Kitabı oku: «Peter Stuyvesant, the Last Dutch Governor of New Amsterdam», sayfa 11
CHAPTER XI.
THE DISASTROUS YEAR
Purchase of Staten Island.—The Restoration cf Charles Second.—Emigration Invited.—Settlement of Bushwick.—The Peculiar People.—Persecution of John Brown.—The Governor Rebuked.—Cumulation of Disasters.—The Outbreak at Esopus.—The Panic.—Measures of the Governor.—The Indian Fort.—The expedition to Mamaket.—Capture of the Fort.—Annihilation of the Esopus Indians.
In the year 1661, the Company purchased of Melyn, the patroon, for about five hundred dollars, all his rights to lands on Staten Island. Thus the whole island became the property of the Company. Grants of lands were immediately issued to individuals. The Waldenses, and the Huguenots from Rochelle in France, were invited to settle upon the island. A block-house was built which was armed with two cannon and garrisoned by ten soldiers. Fourteen families were soon gathered in a little settlement south of the Narrows.
Upon the restoration of Charles the Second, in England, the Royalists and churchmen insisted upon the restoration of the hierarchy. The Restoration was far from being the unanimous act of the nation. The republicans and dissenters, disappointed and persecuted, were disposed in ever increasing numbers, to take refuge in the New World. The West India Company of Holland being in possession of a vast territory, between the Hudson and the Delaware, which was quite uninhabited, save by a few tribes of Indians, availed themselves of this opportunity to endeavor to draw emigrants from all parts of Europe, and especially from England, to form settlements upon their lands.
They issued proclamations inviting settlers and offering them large inducements. The country, which embraced mainly what is now New Jersey, was described in glowing terms as if it were a second Eden. And yet there was no gross exaggeration in the narrative.
"This land," they wrote,
"is but six weeks' sail from Holland. It is fertile in the extreme. The climate serene and temperate, is the best in the world. The soil is ready for the plough, and seed can be committed to it with scarcely any preparation. The most valuable timber is abundant. The forest presents in profusion, nuts and wild fruit of every description. The richest furs can be obtained without trouble. Deer, turkeys, pigeons and almost every variety of wild game, are found in the woods, and there is every encouragement for the establishment of fisheries."
Having presented this view of the region, to which emigrants were invited, and having also announced an exceedingly attractive charter of civil and religious privileges which would be granted them, in the following terms the invitation to emigrate was urged:
"Therefore if any of the good Christians, who may be assured of the advantages to mankind of plantations in these latitudes, shall be disposed to transport themselves to said place, they shall have full liberty to live in the fear of the Lord upon the aforesaid good conditions and shall be likewise courteously used.
"We grant to all Christian people of tender conscience, in England or elsewhere oppressed, full liberty to erect a colony between New England and Virginia in America, now within the jurisdiction of Peter Stuyvesant."
Twenty-three families, most of them French, established a settlement on Long Island, at the place now called Bushwick. The village grew rapidly and in two years had forty men able to bear arms.
The proclamation issued by the Company, inviting emigrants to settle upon the lands between the Hudson and the Delaware, attracted much attention in Europe. Committees were sent to examine the lands which it was proposed thus to colonize. The region between New Amstel and Cape Henlopen, being quite unoccupied, attracted much attention. A company, the members of which may be truly called a peculiar people, decided to settle there. An extraordinary document was drawn up, consisting of one hundred and seventeen articles for the government of the association. In this singular agreement it is written:
"The associates are to be either married men or single men twenty-four years old, who are free from debt. Each one is bound to obey the ordinances of the society and not to seek his own advancement over any other member. No clergyman is to be admitted into the society. Religious services are to be as simple as possible. Every Sunday and holiday the people are to assemble, sing a Psalm and listen to a chapter from the Bible, to be read by one of the members in rotation. After this another Psalm is to be sung. At the end of these exercises the court shall be opened for public business. The object of the association being to establish a harmonious society of persons of different religious sentiments, all intractable people shall be excluded from it, such as those in communion with the Roman See usurious Jews, English stiff-necked Quakers, Puritans, fool-hardy believers in the Millenium and obstinate modern pretenders to revelation."
While the Company in Holland, were inviting emigrants to their territory of the New World, with the fullest promises of religious toleration, their governor, Stuyvesant, was unrelentingly persecuting all who did not sustain the established religion.
A very quiet, thoughtful, inoffensive man, John Brown, an Englishman, moved from Boston to Flushing. He was a plain farmer, very retiring in his habits and a man of but few words. From curiosity he attended a Quaker meeting. His meditative spirit was peculiarly impressed with the simplicity of their worship. He invited them to his house, and soon joined their society. The magistrates informed Stuyvesant that John Brown's house had become a conventicle for Quakers. Being arrested, he did not deny the charge, and was fined twenty-five pounds and threatened with banishment.
The next week a new proclamation was issued, saying,
"The public exercise of any religion but the Reformed, in houses, barns, ships, woods or fields, will be punished by a fine of fifty guilders; double for the second offence; and for the third quadruple with arbitrary correction."
John Brown, either unable or refusing to pay his fine, was taken to New Amsterdam, where he was imprisoned for three months. An order was then issued announcing his banishment.
"For the welfare," it was written,
"of the community, and to crush as far as possible, that abominable sect who treat with contempt both the political magistrate, and the ministers of God's holy word, and who endeavor to undermine the police and religion, John Brown is to be transported from this province in the first ship ready to sail, as an example to others."
He was sent to Holland in the "Gilded Fox." Stuyvesant wrote to the Company, "The contumacious prisoner has been banished as a terror to others who, if not discouraged by this example, will be dealt with still more severely."
The Company in Holland, was not at all in sympathy with its intolerant governor. The exile was received by them respectfully. The following dispatch, condemnatory of the severe measures of Stuyvesant, was forwarded to him:
"Although it is our cordial desire that similar and other sectarians may not be found there, yet, as the contrary seems to be the fact, we doubt very much whether vigorous proceedings against them ought not to be discontinued; unless indeed, you intend to check and destroy your population, which, in the youth of your existence, ought rather to be encouraged by all possible means.
"Wherefore it is our opinion that some connivance is useful, and that at least the consciences of men, ought to remain free and unshackled. Let every one remain free so long as he is modest, irreproachable in his political conduct, and so long as he does not offend others or oppose the government. This maxim of moderation has always been the guide of our magistrates in this city. The consequence has been that people have flocked from every land to this asylum. Tread thus in their steps and we doubt not you will be blessed."
From this time persecution ceased in New Netherland. Either Governor Stuyvesant was convinced by the argument in the above dispatch, or he was intimidated by his rebuke. After two years of absence John Brown returned to New Netherland, and it is said that the governor received him as though he were ashamed of what he had done.
The year 1663 was a year of many disasters. Early in the year an earthquake shook severely the whole of New Netherland and of the adjacent regions. The melting of the snow in the spring, and the falling rains caused a desolating freshet, which inundated all the meadow lands of the rivers, utterly destroying the crops. This calamity was followed by the small-pox, which spread with a like rapidity and fatality among the Europeans and the Indians. Of the Iroquois Indians over a thousand died. In addition to these calamities came, worst of all, war with its indescribable horrors.
At Esopus the hand of industry had been very successfully employed. Quite a crowded population filled the houses, within the palisades, and the rapidly increasing numbers had rendered it necessary to commence another village, which was called Wildwyck, on a fertile plain at a little distance from the fort. Under the blessings of peace, wealth had increased. The church numbered sixty members. Most of the garrison had been withdrawn as no longer needed.
But the Indians could not forget their brethren sent to life-long slavery at Curaçoa. It was increasingly evident that the peace, into which they had entered, was not cordial. It was a compulsory peace. An unendurable outrage had driven them into the war. And by the terms of peace, while they had been compelled to return all the captives they held, fifteen of their warriors were doomed to perpetual slavery.
Murmurings were heard which foreboded an outbreak. Some of the settlers became alarmed and communicated their fears to Governor Stuyvesant. He sent word that he would soon visit Esopus, to investigate the state of affairs. The Indian chiefs, hearing of this, returned the message, that if he were coming to renew their treaty of friendship they should expect him to come unarmed and they would be happy to meet him in council, according to their custom, in the open field outside of the gate.
It was a pleasant morning of the 7th of June. The governor had not yet arrived. The settlers, thrown off their guard by the friendly message which the chiefs had returned, were scattered about in the fields engaged in their daily avocations. Between eleven and twelve o'clock at noon, an unusual number of savages spread themselves through the villages and entered the dwellings. They were apparently, as usual, entirely unarmed, though it afterwards appeared that they had concealed weapons. They brought corn, beans, and other trifling articles for sale.
Suddenly the war-whoop was uttered from one savage throat as a signal, and was instantly re-echoed by a hundred others. Tomahawks and knives and battle-axes gleamed in the air, and the work of extermination was instantly and energetically commenced. The settlers were taken entirely by surprise. Every Indian had marked his man. Neither women nor children were spared. Those who could not easily be captured were struck down. Many of the Indians speedily regained their guns which they had concealed in the grass. Houses were plundered and set on fire.
But the colonists did not submit to their fate without valiant resistance. For several hours the most deadly battle raged. The yells of the savages, and the shrieks of wounded women and children, devoured by the flames which consumed their dwellings, were awful beyond any power of the pen to describe.
Roelof Swartwout was entrusted with the municipal government at Esopus. His office of Schout somewhat resembled that of a mayor in one of our modern cities. He displayed much presence of mind and bravery on this occasion. Rallying a few bold men around him, he at length succeeded in driving the savages from within the palisades and in shutting the gates. Several hours of this awful conflict had now passed. Evening had come. Devastation, ruin, death surrounded them. The outer village was in ashes. The fields were strewn with the bodies of the dead. The half-burned corpses of women and children were to be seen amidst the smoking cinders of their former homes.
The village within the palisades had been set on fire. A few houses had been burned, consuming the mangled remains of those who had fallen beneath the tomahawk and battle-axe of the Indian. Fortunately a change of the wind had saved most of the village from destruction. Swartwout and his brave little band, protected by the palisades, were able through the loop-holes, to strike down any Indian, who should appear within reach of their bullets. They were now safe.
But this awful storm of war, which had passed over their beautiful valley had, in three short hours of a summer's afternoon, converted the whole scene into a spectacle of almost unearthly misery. Every dwelling outside of the palisades was in ashes. Several within the enclosure were consumed, and the charred bodies of the dead were intermingled with the blackened timbers. Twenty-one of the settlers had been killed outright. Nine were severely wounded. Forty-five, mostly women and children, were taken captive, to be carried into bondage more dreadful than death.
A night of woe ensued, during which the yells of the savages, in their triumphal orgies dancing around their captives, and probably exposing some to the torture, fell appallingly upon the ears of the sleepless survivors within the gates. Was this God's allowed retribution for the crime of sending the Indians into slavery? It certainly was the consequence.
The intelligence of this dreadful calamity was immediately transmitted to Governor Stuyvesant at New Amsterdam. Through all the settlements the tidings spread, creating universal panic. Mothers and maidens turned pale as they thought of another Indian war. The farmers and their families, abandoning everything, fled from all directions to the forts within their reach. Every able-bodied man was put to work in strengthening the defences.
The governor promptly dispatched forty-two well-armed men to Esopus. Large bounties were offered to all who would enlist. Forty-six friendly Indians from Long Island offered their services and were accepted as auxiliaries. Ample supplies were forwarded to the devastated village. Scouting parties were sent up the river to search out the savages in their hiding-places. The Mohawks interposed their friendly mediation in behalf of peace, and succeeded in recovering and restoring to the Dutch several captives.
They also informed the governor that the Indians had taken the remaining captives to one of their villages about thirty miles southwest of Esopus, and that they refused to release them unless the governor would send them rich presents and make a peace without any compensation for what had transpired at Esopus. It seems that the Indians regarded the massacre there simply as the just atonement which they had exacted for the enslavement of their brethren, and that now their rude sense of justice being satisfied, they were ready to enter into a solid peace. But the governor was not at all disposed to regard the matter in this light. He deemed it necessary, under the circumstances, that the Indians should feel the full weight of the white man's avenging hand.
Just then a woman, Mrs. Van Imbrock, who had succeeded in effecting her escape from the Indians, reached Esopus, having traversed the wilderness through a thousand perils. She was a woman of great energy, intelligent and observing, and her heart was bleeding in view of the friends she had left behind her in captivity. She was eager to act as a guide to lead a war-party for the rescue of her friends in the retreat of the savages. She estimated their number at about two hundred warriors. They occupied a square fort, very strongly built of timber. And still they adopted the precaution of sending the prisoners every night under strong guard, to some distant place in the mountains. The Indians had a very clear appreciation of the value of their captives as hostages.
Governor Stuyvesant sent a force of two hundred and ten men, under Captain Crygier, to attack them. Forty-one of these were Indians and seven were negroes. They took with them two small cannon, with which at a safe distance, they could soon open a breach through the Indian ramparts, which were merely bullet-proof. A garrison of about seventy men was left behind for the protection of Esopus.
At four o'clock in the afternoon of the 26th of July, this little band commenced its march through the trails of the wilderness, towards the setting sun. The path was a rugged one over high hills and across mountain streams. They had traversed but a few miles when night came on and they bivouacked until daybreak. The next morning they pressed forward with all vigor until they were within about six miles of the fort. One hundred and sixteen men were then sent forward to attack the Indians by surprise, while the remainder prudently followed close after as a reserve.
But the wary Indians, through their scouts, had ascertained the approach of the foe and had fled with their prisoners to the mountains. The Dutch were astonished at the strength of the fort and at the scientific skill with which it was constructed. The Indians had evidently learned not a little of military art from the Europeans. Three parallel rows of palisades enclosed a large square, with loopholes through which unobstructed aim could be taken at assailants. Within the palisades there were strong block-houses, provided also with loopholes, to which houses the warriors could retreat, as to citadels, in case the outer works were taken. Between the houses and the outworks there was a creek. The whole fortress would have been no disgrace to an European engineer.
The party found very comfortable quarters in the fort for the night, and an ample supply of provisions. An Indian woman, not being aware that the white men were in the fort, came back for some article she had left behind. She was taken prisoner and informed her captors of the direction in which the Indians had fled. As it is necessary for such a party of two or three hundred, to keep together and as the trail through meadows, across streamlets and over mountains is narrow, it is not difficult having once found their track to follow it.
It was determined, after a brief consultation, to pursue them. The next morning at daybreak, the pursuit was commenced. Twenty-five men were left to keep possession of the fort. After several hours of very fatiguing travel, they reached the spot, on a high mountain, where the squaw supposed that the Indians had established their camp. But not an Indian was there. They had probably left their spies on the path, who had informed them that the foe was at hand.
The woman now said that they must have gone on to another stronghold they had, at the distance of about six miles. The march was continued through great difficulties. But it was fruitless. Not an Indian was to be found. They had another stronghold about twelve miles farther on. It was possible that they might be found there. But all were fatigued and discouraged, and were disposed to give up the hopeless chase. At one time they caught sight of nine savages in the distance, but they fled like deer.
Captain Crygier, deeming all further attempt to overtake the savages hopeless, decided to return to the Indian fort. Having reached it, all hands engaged in the work of destruction. The savages had collected there a large supply of provisions for the approaching winter. The colonists took all they could carry away with them and destroyed the rest. They then utterly demolished the buildings and palisades, committing all to the flames. The works must have cost the Indians an immensity of labor. There were two hundred acres of corn, waving richly in the summer breeze, giving promise of an abundant harvest. All was trampled down. It was a fearful calamity to the wretched Indians. Probably not a few perished of famine the next winter. There was by no means a sufficient supply of game in the forest to meet their wants. Their main reliance was upon their cornfields.
While they were engaged in this work of destruction four savages appeared upon a hill near some of the colonists, and cried out to them "To-morrow we will come and fight you, for we must all now die of hunger."
The next morning the colonists commenced their return. They showed their respect for the prowess of the savages, by forming their little army in strong military array, with the advance, the centre and the rear guard. At nine o'clock in the evening of August 1st, 1663, they reached their anxious friends at Esopus, without the loss of a man.
Ere long news reached Esopus, that the savages were building another fort, which they called a castle, about thirty-six miles southwest of Esopus, probably near the present town of Mamakating, Sullivan county. An expedition of one hundred and twenty five men, under Captain Crygier, was immediately organized to destroy the works. A young Indian guided the party. Several horses were taken with them to bring back those who might be wounded.
At one o'clock in the afternoon of September third, the party set out from Esopus. A march of nine miles brought them to a creek, which was so swollen by recent rains, that they were delayed for several hours until they could construct a rude bridge across it. In the meantime the rain was falling in torrents. It was not until four o'clock in the afternoon of the next day that the party effected its passage across the stream. They then pressed forward twelve miles farther and bivouacked for the night.
At daybreak they were again upon the move, and about two o'clock in the afternoon emerged from the forest in view of the fort. It stood upon an elevated plain. Like the one we have already described, it consisted of a square enclosure, surrounded by two rows of strong palisades, and a third had already been commenced. These posts, pointed at the top, were firmly planted in the ground, and were of the thickness of a man's body, and rose fifteen feet into the air.
Captain Crygier, after carefully scrutinizing the works, divided his force into two sections for the attack. He was well aware that he had a foe to encounter who would fight with the utmost desperation behind his intrenchments. One party of the assailants crept cautiously along, beneath the covert of a hill, until, coming to the open plain, they were discovered by a squaw, who uttered a terrible cry which roused the whole garrison of Indians.
A sudden onslaught was then made by both parties pouring, like an inundation, through the unfinished works into the fort. The savages, taken by Surprise, and many of them without their arms, were thrown into a panic. Many of them rushed out of the fort, leaving their guns in the houses behind. The Dutch followed close upon their heels, shooting them, and with keen sabres cutting them down. Just beyond the fort there was a creek. The terrified Indians precipitated themselves into it, and by wading and swimming forced their way across. Here they attempted to rally and opened fire upon the pursuing Dutch. The fire was returned with so much vigor that the Indians were driven with loss from their position. The assailants soon crossed the creek, and the discomfited Indians, in hopeless rout, fled wildly into the trackless wilderness.
In the impetuous assault the chief of the tribe, Papoquanchen, was slain, and fourteen of his warriors with four Indian women and three children Twenty-two Christian prisoners were recovered, and fourteen Indians were taken captive. The Dutch lost but three killed and six were wounded. The houses were all plundered by the victors. There was found in them eighty guns, and "bearskins, deerskins, blankets, elk hides and peltries sufficient to load a shallop." Forty rolls of wampum and twenty pounds of powder were also taken. The colonists loaded themselves with such plunder as they could carry. The rest was destroyed.
The return of the victors with the rescued Christian captives, gave great joy at Esopus. We regret to record that, on the march home, there was one of the Indian prisoners, an old man, who refused to go any farther. Captain Crygier had him led a few steps out of the path and shot. In unfeeling terms the captain writes, "We carried him a little aside and then gave him his last meal."
The remainder of the month of September was employed in sending out small scouting parties, and in protecting the farmers while gathering their harvests. Though the Esopus Indians were pretty thoroughly crushed by these disasters which had befallen them, they showed no sign of submission. It was estimated that not more than twenty-eight warriors, with fourteen women and a few children survived. And these were without homes and almost in a state of starvation. Still it was decided to fit out a third expedition against them to effect their utter overthrow.
It was thought most probable that the dispersed Indians would rally again within the fort at Mamakating, which had been captured and sacked but not as yet destroyed. It was perhaps left as a lure to draw the Indians to that point where they could be surrounded and annihilated.
A strong well-armed party of one hundred and sixty-four soldiers set out on this expedition. Forty six of these were friendly Indians from a tribe called Marespincks, whose home was on Long Island. The soldiers were familiar with the route which they had so recently traversed. A weary but rapid march of twenty hours brought them to the scene of their recent victory. Not an Indian was there. All was silence and awful desolation. Even the colonists were appalled by the spectacle which opened before them. The Indians were so thoroughly panic stricken that they had not ventured back even to bury their dead. The decaying corpses lay scattered around, many of them half consumed by vultures and wolves. The birds and beasts, with wild cries, were devouring their prey. Parties were sent out to scour the woods. But no signs of the savages could be found. In fact the Esopus tribe was no more. It was afterwards ascertained that the wretched remnant had fled south and were finally blended and lost among the Minnisincks and other southern tribes.
The fort was so strong that it required not a little labor to destroy it. It was necessary to cut down or dig up the palisades, which were composed of trunks of trees twenty feet long and eighteen inches in diameter. Several cornfields were found in the vicinity wherever an opening in the forest and fertile soil invited the labor of the indolent Indian. Two days were occupied in cutting down the corn, already beautiful in its golden ripeness, and in casting the treasure into the creek. The palisades were then piled around the dwellings and in a few hours nothing remained of the once imposing fortress but smoking embers.
This Indian fort or castle, it is said, stood on the banks of what is now called the Shawangunk kill, in the town of the same name, at the southwestern extremity of Ulster county. It seems as though it were the doom of armies on the march, ever to encounter floods of rain. Scarcely had the troops commenced their return ere the windows of heaven seemed to be opened and the fountains of the great deep to be broken up.
At ten o'clock on the morning of the 5th of October, 1664, the march was commenced. The rain came on like that of Noah's deluge. The short afternoon passed away as, threading ravines and climbing mountains, they breasted the flood and the gale. The drenched host was soon enveloped in the gloom of a long, dark, stormy night. Weary and shelterless, the only couch they could find was the dripping sod, the only canopy, the weeping skies. The weeping skies! yes, nature seemed to weep and mourn over the crimes of a lost race,—over man's inhumanity to man. It was not until the evening of the next day, the rain still continuing, that these weary soldiers reached their home at Esopus.
