The patroons, thus in possession of territory equal to many of the dukedoms and principalities of Europe, were invested with the authority which had been exercised in Europe by the old feudal lords. They could settle all disputes, in civil cases, between man and man. They could appoint local officers and magistrates, erect courts, and punish all crimes committed within their limits, being even authorized to inflict death upon the gallows. They could purchase any amount of unappropriated lands from the Indians.
One of these patroons, Kiliaen Van Rensselaer, a wealthy merchant in Holland, who had been accustomed to polish pearls and diamonds, became, as patroon, possessed of nearly the whole of the present counties of Albany and Rensselaer, in the State cf New York, embracing the vast area of one thousand one hundred and forty-one square miles. Soon all the important points on the Hudson River and the Delaware were thus caught up by these patroons, wealthy merchants of the West India Company.
When the news of these transactions reached Holland, great dissatisfaction was felt by the less fortunate shareholders, that individuals had grasped such a vast extent of territory. It was supposed that Director Minuit was too much in sympathy with the patroons, who were becoming very powerful, and he was recalled. All were compelled to admit that during his administration the condition of the colony had been prosperous. The whole of Manhattan Island had been honestly purchased of the Indians. Industry had flourished. Friendly relations were everywhere maintained with the natives. The northwestern shores of Long Island were studded with the log cottages of the settlers. During his directorship the exports of the colony had trebled, amounting, in the year 1632, to nearly fifty thousand dollars.
We come now to a scene of war, blood and woe, for which the Dutch were not at all accountable. It will be remembered that a colony had been established near the mouth of Delaware Bay. Two vessels were dispatched from Holland for this point containing a number of emigrants, a large stock of cattle, and whaling equipments, as whales abounded in the bay. The ship, called the Walvis, arrived upon the coast in April, 1631. Running along the western shore of this beautiful sheet of water, they came to a fine navigable stream, which was called Horekill, abounding with picturesque islands, with a soil of exuberant fertility, and where the waters were filled with fishes and very fine oysters. There was here also a roadstead unequalled in the whole bay for convenience and safety.
Here the emigrants built a fort and surrounded it with palisades, and a thriving Dutch colony of about thirty souls was planted. They formally named the place, which was near the present town of Lewiston, Swaanendael. A pillar was raised, surmounted by a plate of glittering tin, upon which was emblazoned the arms of Holland; and which also announced that the Dutch claimed the territory by the title of discovery, purchase and occupation.
For awhile the affairs of this colony went on very prosperously. But in May, 1632, an expedition, consisting of two ships, was fitted out from Holland. with additional emigrants and supplies. Just before the vessels left the Texel, a ship from Manhattan brought the melancholy intelligence to Amsterdam that the colony at Swaanendael had been destroyed by the savages, thirty-two men having been killed outside of the fort working in the fields. Still DeVrees, who commanded the expedition, hoping that the report was exaggerated, and that the colony might still live, in sadness and disappointment proceeded on his way. One of his vessels ran upon the sands off Dunkirk, causing a delay of two months. It was not until the end of December that the vessels cast anchor off Swaanendael. No boat from the shore approached; no signs of life met the eye. The next morning a boat, thoroughly armed, was sent into the creek on an exploring tour.
Upon reaching the spot where the fort had been erected they found the building and palisades burned, and the ground strewn with the hones of their murdered countrymen, intermingled with the remains of cattle. The silence and solitude of the tombs brooded over the devastated region. Not even a savage was to be seen. As the boat returned with these melancholy tidings, DeVrees caused a heavy cannon to be fired, hoping that its thunders, reverberating over the bay, and echoing through the trails of the wilderness, might reach the ear of some friendly Indian, from whom he could learn the details of the disaster.
The next morning a smoke was seen curling up from the forest near the ruins. The boat was again sent into the creek, and two or three Indians were seen cautiously prowling about. But mutual distrust stood in the way of any intercourse. The Dutch were as apprehensive of ambuscades and the arrows of the Indians, as were the savages of the bullets of the formidable strangers.
Some of the savages at length ventured to come down to the shore, off which the open boat floated, beyond the reach of arrows. Lured by friendly signs, one of the Indians soon became emboldened to venture on board. He was treated with great kindness, and succeeded in communicating the following, undoubtedly true, account of the destruction of the colony:
The commandant was shocked at this severity of retribution, so far exceeding anything which he had desired, and told the savages that they had done very wrong; that they should only have arrested the chief and brought him to the fort. The commandant would simply have reprimanded him and forbidden him to repeat the offence.
The ignorant Indians of the tribe, whose chief had thus summarily, and, as they felt, unjustly been put to death, had all their savage instincts roused to intensity. They regarded the strangers at the fort as instigating the deed and responsible for it. They resolved upon bloody vengeance.
A party of warriors, thoroughly armed, came stealing through the glades of the forest and approached the unsuspecting fort. All the men were at work in the fields excepting one, who was left sick at home. There was also chained up in the fort, a powerful and faithful mastiff, of whom the Indians stood in great dread. Three of the savages, concealing, as far as they could, their weapons, approached the fort, under the pretence of bartering some beaver skins. They met Hossett, the commander, not far from the door. He entered the house with them, not having the slightest suspicion of their hostile intent. He ascended some steep stairs into the attic, where the stores for trade were deposited, and as he was coming down, one of the Indians, watching his opportunity, struck him dead with an axe. They then killed the sick man. Standing at a cautious distance, they shot twenty-five arrows into the chained mastiff till he sank motionless in death.
The colonists in the field, in the meantime, were entirely unaware of the awful scenes which were transpiring, and of their own impending peril. The wily Indians approached them, under the guise of friendship. Each party had its marked man. At a given signal, with the utmost ferocity they fell upon their victims. With arrows, tomahawks and war-clubs, the work was soon completed. Not a man escaped.
De Vrees very wisely decided that it would be but a barren vengeance to endeavor to retaliate upon the roaming savages, when probably more suffering would be inflicted upon the innocent than upon the guilty. He therefore, to their astonishment and great joy, entered into a formal treaty of peace and alliance with them. Any attempt to bring the offenders to justice would of course have been unavailing, as they could easily scatter, far and wide, through the trackless wilderness. Arrangements were made for re-opening trade, and the Indians with alacrity departed to hunt beaver.
A new Director was appointed at Manhattan, Wouter Van Twiller. He was an inexperienced young man, and owed his appointment to the powerful patronage he enjoyed from having married the niece of the patroon Van Rensselaer. Thus a "raw Amsterdam clerk," embarked in a ship of twenty guns, with a military force of one hundred and four soldiers, to assume the government of New Netherland. The main object of this mercantile governor seemed to be to secure trade with the natives and to send home furs.
De Vrees, having concluded his peace with the Indians, sailed up the South river, as they then called the Delaware, through the floating ice, to a trading post, which had been established some time before at a point about four miles below the present site of Philadelphia. He thought he saw indications of treachery, and was constantly on his guard. He found the post, which was called Fort Nassau, like a similar post on the Hudson, deserted. The chiefs, however, of nine different tribes, came on board, bringing presents of beaver skins, avowing the most friendly feelings, and they entered into a formal treaty with the Dutch. There did not, however, seem to be any encouragement again to attempt the establishment of a colony, or of any trading posts in that region. He therefore abandoned the Delaware river, and for some time no further attempts were made to colonize its coasts.
In April, 1633, an English ship arrived at Manhattan. The bluff captain, Jacob Elkins, who had formerly been in the Dutch employ, but had been dismissed from their service, refused to recognize the Dutch authorities, declaring that New Netherland was English territory, discovered by Hudson, an Englishman. It was replied that though Hudson was an Englishman, he was in the service of the East India Company at Amsterdam; that no English colonists had ever settled in the region, and that the river itself was named Mauritius river, after the Prince of Orange.
Elkins was not to be thus dissuaded. He had formerly spent four years at this post, and was thoroughly acquainted with the habits and language of the Indians. His spirit was roused. He declared that he would sail up the river if it cost him his life. Van Twiller was equally firm in his refusal. He ordered the Dutch flag to be run up at fort Amsterdam, and a salute to be fired in honor of the Prince of Orange. Elkins, in retaliation, unfurled the English flag at his mast-head, and fired a salute in honor of King Charles. After remaining a week at fort Amsterdam, and being refused a license to ascend the river, he defiantly spread his colors to the breeze, weighed anchor, and boldly sailed up the stream to fort Orange. This was the first British vessel which ascended the North river.
The pusillanimous Van Twiller was in a great rage, but had no decision of character to guide him in such an emergency. The merchant clerk, invested with gubernatorial powers, found himself in waters quite beyond his depth. He collected all the people of the fort, broached a cask of wine, and railed valiantly at the intrepid Englishman, whose ship was fast disappearing beyond the palisades. His conduct excited only the contempt and derision of those around.
DeVrees was a man of very different fibre. He had, but a few days before, entered the port from Swaanendael. He dined with the Governor that day, and said to him in very intelligible Dutch:
Stimulated by this advice, Van Twiller prepared, as speedily as possible, three well armed vessels, strongly manned with soldiers, and sent them, under an intrepid captain, in pursuit of the intruders. They found the English ship, the William, about a mile below fort Orange. A tent was pitched upon the shore, where, for a fortnight, the English had been pursuing a very lucrative traffic for furs. The Dutch soldiers were in strength which Elkins could not resist.
They ordered him to strike his tent. He refused. They did it for him; reshipped all his goods which he had transferred to the shore, to trade with the Indians, and also the furs which he had purchased. They then weighed the anchors of the William, unfurled her sails, and, with trumpet blasts of victory, brought the ship, captain and crew down to fort Amsterdam. The ship was then convoyed to sea, and the discomfited Elkins returned to London. Thus terminated, in utter failure, the first attempt of the English to enter into trade with the Indians of New Netherland.
The Dutch were now the only Europeans who had occupied any part of the present territory of New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Delaware. They were also carrying on a very flourishing trade with the Indians on the Connecticut river, which was then called Fresh river, and this "long before any English had dreamed of going there." The Value of this traffic may be inferred from the fact that, in the year 1633, sixteen thousand beaver skins were sent to Holland from the North river alone.
To strengthen their title, thus far founded on discovery and exclusive visitation, the Dutch, in 1632, purchased of the Indians nearly all of the lands on both sides of the Connecticut river, including Saybrook Point, at the mouth, where the arms of the States-General were affixed to a tree in token of possession. A fort was also commenced, near the mouth of the river, and a trading post established some miles up the stream, at the point now occupied by the city of Hartford.
About the same time, Lord Warwick, assuming that a legitimate grant of the region had been made to him by the king of England, conveyed to Lords Say, Brook and others, all the territory running southwest from Narragansett river, to the distance of one hundred and twenty miles along the coast, and reaching back, through the whole breadth of the country, from the Western Ocean to the South Sea. The geography of these regions was then very imperfectly known. No one had any conception of the vast distance between the Atlantic Ocean and the shores of the Pacific. The trading post, which the Dutch had established on the Connecticut, was called Fort Hope.
As soon as it was known, at Plymouth and Boston, that the Dutch had taken formal possession of the valley of the Connecticut, Governor Winslow hastened to confer with the Massachusetts Governor respecting their duties. As it was doubtful whether the region of the Connecticut was embraced within either of their patents, they decided not to interfere. But through diplomatic policy they assigned a different reason for their refusal.
"In regard," said Governor Winthrop,
Still Governor Winthrop looked wistfully towards the Connecticut. Though he admitted that the lower part of the valley was "out of the claim of the Massachusetts patent," it could not be denied that the upper part of the valley was included in their grant. In the summer of 1633, John Oldham, with three companions, penetrated the wilderness, through the Indian trails, one hundred and sixty miles to the Connecticut river. They were hospitably entertained in the many Indian villages they passed through by the way.
They brought back early in the autumn, glowing accounts of the beauty of the region, and of the luxuriant meadows which bordered the stream. Governor Winthrop then sent a vessel on a trading voyage, through Long Island Sound, to Manhattan, there to inform the Dutch authorities that the king of England had granted the Connecticut river and the adjacent country to the subjects of Great Britain.
In most of these transactions the Dutch appear to great advantage. After five weeks' absence the vessel returned to Boston to report the friendly reception of the Massachusetts party at Manhattan, and bearing a courteous letter to Governor Winthrop, in which Van Twiller, in respectful terms, urged him to defer his claim to Connecticut until the king of England and the States-General of Holland should agree about their limits, so that the colonists of both nations, might live "as good neighbors in these heathenish countries." Director Van Twiller added, with good sense, which does him much credit:
At the same time the Plymouth colony made a move to obtain a foothold upon the Connecticut. To secure the color of a title, the colony purchased of a company of Indians who had been driven from their homes by the all-victorious Pequods, a tract of land just above fort Hope, embracing the territory where the town of Windsor now stands. Lieutenant Holmes was then dispatched with a chosen company, in a vessel which conveyed the frame of a small house carefully stowed away, and which could be very expeditiously put together. He was directed to push directly by fort Hope, and raise and fortify his house upon the purchased lands. Governor Bradford, of Plymouth, gives the following quaint account of this adventure:
Van Twiller, informed of this intrusion, sent a commissioner, protesting against this conduct and ordering Holmes to depart, with all his people. Holmes replied, "I am here in the name of the king of England, and here I shall remain."
Matters soon became seriously complicated. A boat's crew was robbed and murdered by some vagabond Indians. The culprits were taken and hung.
This exasperated against the Dutch the powerful Pequods who had the supremacy over all that territory. Open war soon ensued. The Pequods sent an embassy to Boston, and entered into a treaty of alliance with the Massachusetts colony, in which they surrendered to that colony the Connecticut valley.
In the meantime, Van Twiller having received instructions from the home government, dispatched a force of seventy well armed men to drive Lieutenant Holmes and his men from their post. The English stood firmly upon their defence. The Dutch, seeing that a bloody battle must ensue, with uncertain results, withdrew without offering any violence. In many respects the Dutch colonies continued to enjoy much prosperity. Mr. Brodhead gives the following interesting account of the state of affairs at the mouth of the Hudson, in the year 1633:
The little settlement at Manhattan was entitled to the feudal right of levying a tax upon all the merchandise passing up or down the river. The English were, at this time, so ignorant of this region of the North American coast that a sloop was dispatched to Delaware Bay "to see if there were any river there." As the Dutch had vacated the Delaware, the English decided to attempt to obtain a foothold on those waters. Accordingly, in the year 1635, they sent a party of fourteen or fifteen Englishmen, under George Holmes, to seize the vacant Dutch fort.
Van Twiller, informed of this fact, with much energy sent an armed vessel, by which the whole company was arrested and brought to Manhattan, whence they were sent, "pack and sack," to an English settlement on the Chesapeake.
The Plymouth people had now been two years in undisturbed possession of their post at Windsor, on the Connecticut. Stimulated by their example, the General Court of Massachusetts encouraged emigration to the Connecticut valley, urging, as a consideration, their need of pasturage for their increasing flocks and herds; the great beauty and fruitfulness of the Connecticut valley, and the danger that the Dutch, or other English colonies, might get possession of it. "Like the banks of the Hudson," it was said, "the Connecticut had been first explored and even occupied by the Dutch. But should a log hut and a few straggling soldiers seal a territory against other emigrants?"5
Thus solicited, families from Watertown and Roxbury commenced a settlement at Wethersfield in the year 1635. Some emigrants, from Dorchester, established themselves just below the colony of the Plymouth people at Windsor. This led to a stern remonstrance on the part of Governor Bradford, of Plymouth, denouncing their unrighteous intrusion.
In November of this year, Governor Winthrop dispatched a bark of twenty tons from Boston, with about twenty armed men, to take possession of the mouth of the Connecticut. It will be remembered that the Dutch had purchased this land of the Indians three years before, and, in token of their possession, had affixed the arms of the States-General to a tree. The English contemptuously tore down these arms, "and engraved a ridiculous face in their place."
The Dutch had called this region, Kievit's Hook. The English named it Saybrook, in honor of lords Say and Brook, who were regarded as the leading English proprietors. Early the next year the Massachusetts people established a colony at Agawam, now Springfield. Thus, step by step, the English encroached upon the Dutch, until nearly the whole valley of the Connecticut was wrested from them.
About this time Van Twiller issued a grant of sixty-two acres of land, a little northwest of fort Amsterdam, to Roelof Jansen. This was the original conveyance of the now almost priceless estate, held by the corporation of Trinity Church. The directors, in Holland, encouraged emigration by all the means in their power. Free passage was offered to farmers and their families. They were also promised the lease of a farm, fit for the plough, for six years, with a dwelling house, a barn, four horses and four cows. They were to pay a rent for these six years, of forty dollars a year, and eighty pounds of butter.
At the expiration of the six years the tenants were to restore the number of cattle they had received, retaining the increase. They were also assisted with clothing, provisions, etc., on credit, at an advance of fifty per cent. But notwithstanding the rapid increase of the Dutch settlements, thus secured, the English settlements were increasing with still greater rapidity. Not satisfied with their encroachments on the Connecticut, the English looked wistfully upon the fertile lands extending between that stream and the Hudson.
The region about New Haven, which, from the East and West rocks, was called the Red Rocks, attracted especial attention. Some men from Boston, who had visited it, greatly extolled the beauty and fertility of the region, declaring it to be far superior to Massachusetts Bay. "The Dutch will seize it," they wrote, "if we do not. And it is too good for any but friends."
Just then an English non-conformist clergyman, John Davenport, and two merchants from London, men of property and high religious worth, arrived at Boston. They sailed to the Red Rocks, purchased a large territory of the Indians, and regardless of the Dutch title, under the shadow of a great oak, laid the foundations of New Haven. The colony was very prosperous, and, in one year's time, numbered over one hundred souls.
And now the English made vigorous efforts to gain all the lands as far west as the Hudson river. A village of fifty log huts soon rose at Stratford, near the Housatonic. Enterprising emigrants also pushed forward as far as Norwalk, Stamford and Greenwich. The colony at Saybrook consisted in 1640, of a hundred houses, and a fine church. The Dutch now held, in the Connecticut valley, only the flat lands around fort Hope. And even these the English began to plough up. They cudgelled those of the Dutch garrison who opposed them, saying, "It would be a sin to leave uncultivated so valuable a land which can produce such excellent corn."
The English now laid claim to the whole of Long Island, and commenced a settlement at its eastern extremity. In the meantime very bitter complaints were sent to Holland respecting the incapacity of the Director Van Twiller. It was said that he, neglecting the affairs of the colony, was directing all his energies to enriching himself. He had become, it was reported, the richest landholder in the province. Though sustained by very powerful friends, he was removed.
William Kieft was appointed in his stead, the fifth Director. He was a man of very unenviable reputation, and his administration was far from successful. Mr. Brodhead gives the following true and very interesting account of the abundant natural resources of the Dutch settlements on the Hudson at this time:
Thus far, as a general rule, friendly relations had existed between the Dutch and the Indians. But all sorts of characters were now emigrating from the old world. The Indians were often defrauded, or treated harshly. Individuals among the natives retaliated by stealing. When caught they were severely punished. Notwithstanding the government prohibited the sale of muskets to the Indians, so eager were the savages to gain these weapons, so invaluable to them on their hunting-fields, that they would offer almost any price for them. Thus the Mohawks ere long obtained "guns, powder and bullets for four hundred warriors."
Kieft endeavored to tax the Indians, extorting payment in corn and furs. This exasperated them. Their reply, through one of their chiefs, would have done honor to any deliberative assembly. Indignantly the chief exclaimed:
This unanswerable argument covered the whole ground. The most illiterate Indian could feel the force of such logic.
Some European vagabonds, as it was afterwards clearly proved, stole some swine from Staten Island. The blame was thrown upon the innocent Raritan Indians, who lived twenty miles inland. The rash Director Kieft resolved to punish them with severity which should be a warning to all the Indians.
He sent to this innocent, unsuspecting tribe, a party of seventy well armed men, many of them unprincipled desperadoes. They fell upon the peaceful Indians, brutally killed several, destroyed their crops, and perpetrated all sorts of outrages.
The Indians never forget a wrong. The spirit of revenge burned in their bosoms. There was a thriving plantation belonging to DeVrees on Staten Island. The Indians attacked it, killed four of the laborers, burned the dwelling and destroyed the crops. Kieft, in his blind rage, resolved upon the extermination of the Raritans. He offered a large bounty for the head of any member of that tribe.
It will be remembered that some years before an Indian had been robbed and murdered near the pond, in the vicinity of the fort at Manhattan, and that his nephew, a boy, had escaped. That boy was now a man, and, through all these years, with almost religious scrupulousness, had been cherishing his sense of duty to avenge his uncle's unatoned death.
A very harmless Dutchman, by the name of Claes Smits, had reared his solitary hut upon the Indian trail near the East river. The nephew of the murdered savage came one day to this humble dwelling, and stopped under the pretence of selling some beaver skins. As Smits was stooping over the great chest in which he kept his goods, the savage, seizing an axe, killed him by a single blow. In doing this, he probably felt the joys of an approving conscience,—a conscience all uninstructed in religious truth—and thanked the great spirit that he had at length been enabled to discharge his duty in avenging his uncle's death.
Kieft sent to the chief of the tribe, demanding the murderer. The culprit Indian sent back the reply:
The sachem refused to deliver up the criminal, saying that he had but done his duty, according to the custom of his race, in avenging the death of his kinsman, murdered many years before. Kieft was exceedingly embarrassed. He was very unpopular; was getting the colony deeper and deeper into difficulty, and was accused of seeking war with the Indians that he "might make a wrong reckoning with the Company."
In this emergency, that others might share the responsibility with him, he reluctantly sought the counsel of the community. Twelve "select men" were chosen to consider the propositions to be submitted to them by the Director. To them the question was propounded:
The result of their deliberations was, in brief, as follows:
The Governor had the reputation of being an arrant coward. It had often been said, "It is very well for him to send us into the field, while he secures his own life in a good fort, out of which he has not slept a single night in all the years he has been here." They therefore shrewdly added, "The Governor himself ought to lead the van in this attack. We will follow his steps and obey his commands."
The hunting season soon came. Still it was decided to delay hostilities. The savages were on their guard. A very general feeling of unfriendliness pervaded the tribes. The Dutch settlers were widely scattered. A combination of the Indians against the colonists might prove an awful calamity. Thus, for a time, the war which was evidently approaching was averted.
The year 1643 was a year of terror and of blood in nearly all of the American colonies. New England was filled with alarm in the apprehension of a general rising of the Indians. It was said that a benighted traveller could not halloo in the woods without causing fear that the savages were torturing their European captives. This universal panic pervaded the Dutch settlements. The wildest stories were circulated at the firesides of the lonely settlers. Anxiety and terror pervaded all the defenceless hamlets.
DeVrees, rambling one day with his gun upon his shoulder, met an Indian "who was very drunk." Coming up to the patroon, the Indian patted him upon the shoulder, in token of friendship, saying,
DeVrees endeavored in vain to soothe him. He had hardly reached his home ere he heard that the savage had kept his vow. He had shot and killed an innocent man, one Garret Van Voorst, who was thatching the roof of a house. The chiefs of the tribe were terror-stricken, through fear of the white man's vengeance. They did not dare to go to the fort lest they should be arrested and held as hostages. But they hastened to an interview with DeVrees, in whom they had confidence, and expressed a readiness to make atonement for the crime, in accordance with the custom of their tribe, by paying a large sum to the widow of the murdered man.
It is worthy of notice that this custom, so universal among the Indians, of a blood atonement of money, was also the usage of the tribes of Greece We read in Homer's Iliad, as translated by Pope,
At length, encouraged by DeVrees and accompanied by him, the chiefs ventured to fort Amsterdam. They explained to Kieft the occurrence, and proposed the expiatory offering to appease the widow's grief. Kieft was inexorable. Nothing but the blood of the criminal would satisfy him. In vain they represented that he was the son of a beloved chief, and that already he had fled far away to some distant tribe. Our sympathy for these men is strongly excited as we read their sorrowful yet noble remonstrance: "Why," said they,
While this question was being agitated, the Mohawks from the upper part of the Hudson, came down in strong military bands, armed with muskets, upon the lower river tribes, attacked them with great ferocity, killed quite a number of their warriors, took the women and children captive, and destroyed their villages.
The lower river tribes all trembled before the terrible Iroquois. Large numbers of these subjugated tribes fled from the river banks, and from the region of Westchester, to Manhattan and to Pavonia, where Jersey City now stands. Here, stripped and panic-stricken, they encamped, "full a thousand strong."
The humane and judicious patroon, DeVrees, in whom the Indians seem to have reposed great confidence, had a beautiful estate several miles up the river, at a place called Vreesendael. It was a delightful spot of about five hundred fertile acres, through which wound a fine stream affording handsome mill seats. The meadows yielded hay enough spontaneously for two hundred head of cattle.
DeVrees, finding his house full of fugitive savages, on their retreat to Pavonia, at the mouth of the river, paddled down in a canoe through the floating ice to fort Amsterdam, to confer with Director Kieft upon the emergency. He urged upon the Director that these poor Indians, thus escaping from the terrible Iroquois and grateful for the protection which the Dutch had not denied them, might easily be won to a sincere friendship. On the other hand, some of the more fiery spirits in the colony thought that the occasion furnished them with an opportunity so to cripple the Indians as to render them forever after powerless. They sent in a petition to Kieft, saying,