given him outward proofs of His love and protection, and among other
instances I will relate these two which I well remember. It happened
once that his uncle went out a shooting with him in the woods, when
the uncle began to sneer at him, saying that he, a mere stupid Indian,
could not shoot, but a Christian was a different character and was
expert and handy: that he, Wouter, would not shoot anything that day,
but he himself would have a good hunt. To which Wouter replied, "It is
well, I cannot help it; I will have whatever God sends me." Upon this
they separated from each other in the woods, and each went where he
thought best. "Now when I was tired out," said Wouter, for we heard it
from himself, as well as from his aunt, "and had travelled and hunted
the whole day without finding any game, with the evening approaching,
grieved that I had shot nothing and troubled at the reproach of my
uncle, my heart looked up to God; I fell upon my knees and prayed to
Him, that although I was no Christian (he meant baptized), I loved
God, and only longed to learn the language in order to be instructed
in Christianity, and would receive it with my whole heart; that God
would be pleased to send to me a wild animal to shoot, so that the
slur, which my uncle had thrown upon me, might be wiped off." While
thus down on his knees, with his hat hanging upon a bough which was
bent down,[342] his prayer not finished, there comes and stands before
him a very young deer, not twenty paces off; it comes softly up to
him; his gun rests alongside of him loaded; he takes aim, shoots, and
hits the deer in the breast, and the creature drops before him on its
two fore feet and there remains. Without going to the deer, he thanks
God upon his knees that he had heard his prayer and had turned back
the reproach. "Oh," said he, "now do I know there is a God, who is in
the woods also, and hears, loves, and thinks of me there." He comes to
the deer, which is a young buck two or three years old, as fat and
beautiful as he had ever seen in his life, and takes it upon his
shoulders and goes with joy to his uncle, whom he found, and asked
where was his good hunt and the game he had shot. His uncle was angry
and spoke angrily, saying he had been going the whole day, tired and
weary, without seeing or shooting anything, and had come there to look
after chestnuts. "That is well, that is good," said Wouter, "reproach
the Indians no more for not being good shooters. Look at what God has
given me upon my prayer;" for he was very glad at what had occurred.
The uncle stood and looked, and knew not what to say, being ashamed at
what he heard and saw, and of himself. Wouter said further, "I know
there has been no wild animal round about here, for I have explored
the whole place, far and near, without being able to discover any; and
now in so short a time this one presented itself before me, and it is,
therefore, certain that God placed it there or caused it to come
there. I have no doubt of it." Although the uncle was ashamed, he was
not much affected by the circumstance, and still less humiliated or
improved. But Elletie had taken it strongly to heart, and when they
both told it to us, we were affected by it ourselves, and saw God in
it more than he had done.
[Footnote 342: Methinks he was moved by seeing this bended branch, to
bend himself before God, and therefore hung his hat upon it; though I
dare not so affirm certainly.--_Note of the journalist._]
Another occasion was during the last harvest, in the year 1679, while
he was out in the woods hunting beavers. He had then had a successful
time and had killed some beavers, the flesh of which he used for food,
and had nothing else to eat. The flesh of the beaver, although we
never relished it, is esteemed by others a great delicacy.
Nevertheless, as we have been told by those who are well acquainted
with it, it is a kind of food with which they soon become satiated. He
also became tired of it; and not having anything else became sad. He
felt his heart boil--this is his own expression--and fell down upon
his knees and prayed that God who had heard before, might be pleased
now again to hear him and give him other food, not so much to satisfy
him, as to show that he was God and loved him--a God whom the Indians
did not know, but for whom he felt he had a greater hunger than his
hunger for outward food, or for what the Indians usually were
satisfied with, which is beaver and beaver meat, that is, to hunt
successfully and trade the skins, which is all they go out hunting
for; but that he felt something else, a hunger which could not be
satisfied with this food and such like; that he felt more hunger after
other food than what the Indians satisfied themselves with; and sought
to be a Christian, and no longer to be an Indian.
While in the midst of his prayer, there stood a fine deer before him,
which he aimed at and felled at one shot. He quickly loaded his gun
again, and had scarcely done so, when he saw close to him a young
buffalo. He levelled his gun and brought it down; but on running up to
it, he came to himself, his heart was disturbed, and he became anxious
and ashamed in considering his covetousness, that he had not thanked
God for the first small animal; so that he could go no further from
joy and fear. He fell upon his knees before God, in great humility,
shame, and reverence, confessing his fault and his want of gratitude,
praying God to forgive him, and thanking Him now for both; saying that
through his unthankfulness for the first one, he was not worthy to
have the second and larger one.
This may be believed as the true meaning and almost the very words of
the Indian, for they were repeated to us from him in his presence,
Illetie, who first told us, interpreting after him in the presence of
five or six persons who were well versed in the Mohawk language, and
bore testimony that he said what she interpreted, and that it was not
enlarged.
Thus continuing to long after something which he did not have, and
being yet in the woods returning home, he came to a bush which was
growing in the shape of a man's hand, and which he stopped to look at
and speculate upon. He wondered at it, and his heart was disturbed and
began to _boil_. He fell down upon his knees by the bush, striking his
hands into it, and prayed: "Oh God! you cause to come before me a sign
or image of what I want and for which I hunger and long. It is true I
have two hands with which I hunt and shoot and do other things, but I
feel I still require a hand to help me, more serviceable than those I
have and use, and stronger and wiser than mine. I am in want of a
third hand. It is true I have forsaken the Indians and have come among
Christians, but this cannot help me unless a third power make me a
true Christian, and enable me to learn the language, that I may
inquire, read, and enter into the grounds of Christianity." This he
did with great tenderness and love; and being so much affected, he cut
off the bush and took it with him in remembrance of his feelings and
the outpouring of his heart to God, more than for the rarity of the
figure in which it had grown. This stick or bush we have seen
ourselves and had in our hands. He presented it to Robert Sanders, who
carried it to Albany.
His aunt, Illetie, had taught him as well as she could, how he must
pray, which she recommended to him to do every time he returned home,
morning or evening, or on any other occasion which might happen to
him, which he always did with concern and anxiety of heart. He always
rejoiced at the proofs of God's [care] over him, and was sorry that he
could not improve them, hoping and believing that God would yet give
him what he still wanted and hungered after. I asked Illetie, who
first told me all this, why they did not take him to some place where
he could learn the language, and some handiwork, with reading and
writing and the like, and especially where he might be brought to the
knowledge and practice of Christianity. She said there were two
impediments, first his uncle, whom we have mentioned, who only kept
him as a kind of servant, such as the English have, for the sake of
vile gain; and, although he was free, and bound to nobody, would never
speak a word of Dutch to him, so that he might not lose him. The other
difficulty was, that as he was of age, 24 or 26 years old, or
thereabouts, no one would receive him for his board and clothing,
fearful he would not learn the one or other handiwork, and would
therefore be a loss to them. Whereupon I said if he would go with us
we would give him board and clothing for all his life, and he should
never be our servant or slave, and would be free and clear of all
obligation; and if God should give him further the grace he would be
our brother and as free as we were. "Oh," said she, "how happy he
would be if he should be so fortunate, and God so honored him, as I
must shame myself for the honor and happiness He causes me in enabling
me to speak with you about these things." I spoke to her further what
I thought would serve for her edification and consolation; and told
her as my comrade was sick and not able to go out, and the weather was
too rainy, she must come to us in the evening, and bring Wouter with
her, that we might see him, and converse with him.
I thereupon went home and told my comrade my adventure, who was
rejoiced at it, and would expect her in the evening. Meanwhile he had
become stronger. The parish prelector,[343] who is the son of minister
Schaets, came to visit my comrade, and said he had heard of us, and
had been desirous to converse with us. He was a little conceited, but
my comrade having heard that he was the prelector, gave him a good
lesson, at which he was not badly content, and with which he went
away.
[Footnote 343: Parish clerk and lay reader. This was Reynier Schaets,
chirurgeon and justice of the peace, killed in the massacre of 1690.]
When evening came, so came Illetie with her husband, and Wouter, and
Adam and his wife, with two or three others besides. We conversed
together through Illetie, who interpreted to him from us, and to us
from him, and he himself repeated all that Illetie had told me, as
before related. We spoke to him from the bottom of our hearts, and he
to us from the bottom of his heart and out of love to us. We exhorted,
encouraged, and comforted him as much as he required, and his
condition would permit. He thanked us with tenderness, that God had
vouchsafed to cause him to see and speak with true Christians, with
people whom he had so longed for, and with whom he wished to spend his
life. "What would you be willing to give to do so?" my comrade asked.
"Oh," said he, "all that I have in the world, and more if I had it, or
it were in my power." We told him he must leave it to God's liberty,
who would do what he pleased, would hear him, and release him when his
time should come. After several episodes, we inquired of him what was
his greatest wish and desire, his greatest hunger and strongest
longing. "I know not justly what it is," he replied, "but I am like a
person who has three knives or some other articles which are valuable,
useful, and necessary, but has lost the one he has most need of, or
is the most serviceable and necessary, and without which the others
are of little service. Thus I have forsaken my relatives, and all my
friends, my nation and country, which is good, and that is one of the
articles. Moreover, I have come among Christians, and Dutch, and begun
to know something of God, and that also is good, and is the second
one. But I am wanting something more than these, and without which
they are of no service to me, namely, a knowledge of the Dutch
language, ability to enter into the grounds of Christianity, and
become a good Christian." We encouraged him, and assured him of the
way of the Lord, that God would hear his prayer, and fulfill his
desire, according to the words of the Lord Jesus: "Blessed are they
who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be
satisfied." "Oh," said he to Illetie, "how I love people who speak so
kindly and mildly, and know how to utter such sweet and beautiful
comparisons. Oh, what love I have for them!"
After we had addressed him and her, earnestly and in love, and also
the bystanders, to their shame and conviction, for their godless
lives, whereby they repelled the heathen and wronged such as began to
be drawn [to God] like these, and as having a terrible judgment to
expect which they could not escape, Illetie said, yes, there were many
Mohawk Indians, who, if they were taught, as they seek to be, and had
good examples set before them by the Christians, by their lives, and
were not so deceived and cheated by the Christians who ought to assist
them, would listen; but now they were repulsed, and the Jesuits who
were among them, and whom Wouter had heard preach several times in his
own language, corrupted them all. Having said all that was proper to
them at this time, we invoked upon them the blessing of God.
_26th, Friday._ Wouter was early at our house, in order to assist in
getting the horses ready. My comrade finding himself better, but still
weak, we determined to leave, two of us on horseback and he in a wagon
belonging at Albany, which we had the good fortune of meeting at
Schoonechten, and in which he could ride over a very comfortable road.
It had frozen quite hard during the night, but when the sun rose a
little, it became warm enough, especially in the woods, where the
wind, which was northwest, could not blow through. I went to take my
leave of several persons with whom I had conversed, and also of
Illetie, consoling and strengthening her once more and committing her
to God and His grace, and she leaving us with tenderness and many
tears. At a place where we were taking our leave, the uncle of Wouter
had come, who commenced saying in very good Dutch: "Well, gentlemen, I
understand Wouter is going to Holland with you." We answered, we did
not know it, nor had we thought of it, but nevertheless our hearts
were good and tender enough to help him, both body and soul, in
whatever the Lord had wrought in him, or should work in him, as far as
we could, which we considered to be our duty, and not only our duty,
but the duty of all Christians. If he wished to go to Holland, we
would not prevent him, because any person who is free may go there if
he chooses; and if he wished to go with us in the same ship in which
we should go over, he was free and might act his mind; yes, if he
wished to be in our company we should not be able to hinder him, and
while he was free no one could prevent him, or ought to, but on the
other hand should aid him; especially as all who bore the name of
Christians ought to assist in bringing to Christ any one who hungered
and thirsted after him as Wouter did. "Well," he asked, without any
feeling, "what trade would you teach him?" "Whatever God wished," we
answered. "And if he should be taken by the Turks," he continued, "who
would be his security, and who would redeem him?" "Well," we asked,
"if we were taken by the Turks who would be our security and redeem
us? God gives no security and makes no agreement. Whoever wishes to be
a Christian must believe and trust in Him, and follow Him in faith,
and so must you, and I, and every one, who wishes to be a Christian."
Some hard words passed also between Robert Sanders and him, about
something relating to himself, namely, that Sanders had said the uncle
only sought to keep Wouter on account of the profit to him. As the
time called us to depart, we took our leave and left him standing
there abashed. Having mounted our horses and entered the wagon, we
rode from there about ten o'clock, over a smooth sandy road, and
arrived at half-past three at Albany, or Fort Orange, where Sanders's
wife was glad to see us, and where we were well received by his whole
family.
This Schoonechtendeel is situated, as we have said, twenty-four miles
west of Fort Albany, toward the country of the Mohawks, upon a good
flat, high enough to be free from the overflowing of the water of the
river, which sometimes overflows their cultivated lands which lie much
lower. Their cultivated lands are not what they call in that country
_valleyen_, but large flats between the hills, on the margin or along
the side of the rivers, brooks or creeks, very flat and level, without
a single tree or bush upon them, of a black sandy soil which is four
and sometimes five or six feet deep, but sometimes less, which can
hardly be exhausted. They cultivate it year after year, without
manure, for many years. It yields large crops of wheat, but not so
good as that raised in the woodland around the city of [New] York and
elsewhere, nor so productively: the latter on the other hand produce a
smaller quantity, but a whiter flour. The wheat which comes from this
place, the Hysopus, and some other places is a little bluer. Much of
the plant called dragon's blood grows about here, and also yearly a
kind of small lemon or citron, of which a single one grows upon a
bush. This bush grows about five feet high, and the fruit cannot be
distinguished from any other citron in form, color, taste or quality.
It grows wild about the city of New York, but not well. I have not
heard of its growing in any other places.
The village proper of Schoon echten [Schenectady], is a square, set
off by palisades. There may be about thirty houses, and it is situated
on the side of the Maquas Kill [Mohawk River], a stream however they
cannot use for carrying goods up or down in yachts or boats.[344]
There are no fish in it except trout, sunfish, and other kinds
peculiar to rivers, because the Cohoes stops the ascent of others,
which is a great inconvenience for the _menage_ and for bringing down
the produce.
[Footnote 344: The form of Schenectady a few years later is shown in
the map in Miller's _New York_ (1695).]
As soon as we arrived in Albany we went to our skipper Meus Hoogboom,
to inquire when he was going to the city. He said to-morrow, but he
said he would come and notify us of the time. We saw it would run on a
much longer time, as it usually does in these parts.
_27th, Saturday._ We went to call upon a certain Madam Rentselaer,
widow of the Heer Rentselaer, son of the Heer Rentselaer of the colony
named the colony of Rentselaerswyck, comprising twelve miles square
from Fort Orange, that is, twenty-four miles square in all. She is
still in possession of the place, and still administers it as
_patroonesse_, until one Richard van Rentselaer, residing at
Amsterdam, shall arrive in the country, whom she expected in the
summer, when he would assume the management of it himself. This lady
was polite, quite well informed, and of good life and disposition.[345]
She had experienced several proofs of the Lord. The breaking up of the
ice had once carried away her entire mansion, and every thing
connected with it, of which place she had made too much account. Also,
in some visitations of her husband, death, and others before. In her
last child-bed, she became lame or weak in both of her sides, so that
she had to walk with two canes or crutches. In all these trials, she
had borne herself well, and God left not Himself without witness in
her. She treated us kindly, and we ate here exceedingly good pike,
perch, and other fish, which now began to come and be caught in great
numbers. We had several conversations with her about the truth, and
practical religion, mutually satisfactory. We went to look at several
of her mills at work, which she had there on an ever-running stream,
grist-mills, saw-mills, and others. One of the grist-mills can grind
120 schepels[346] of meal in twenty-four hours, that is, five an hour.
Returning to the house, we politely took our leave. Her residence is
about a quarter of an hour from Albany up the river. This day we went
to visit still other farms and milling establishments on the other
side of the river, where there was a water-fall but not large,
sufficient to keep about three mills going. This is indeed, I think,
the highest that I have seen.
[Footnote 345: The patroonship of Rensselaerswyck was founded in 1630
by Kiliaen van Rensselaer of Amsterdam. It was a great manorial
estate, extending along the west bank of the Hudson from Beeren Island
to the Mohawk and running so far back from the river as to embrace
about the same area as the present Albany County, though Albany itself
was not a part of it. The first patroon had died in 1646, the second,
his oldest son Johannes, had also died, and the present heir was the
latter's son Kiliaen. The lady here described was Maria, the widow of
Jeremias van Rensselaer, the original patroon's third son, who had
ruled the colony from 1658 to 1674. She was a daughter of Oloff
Stevensz van Cortlandt, and lived till 1689. Her husband's youngest
brother Richard had lived at the colony from 1652 to 1672, but was now
in Holland, treasurer of Vianen, and never came to America again.]
[Footnote 346: Ninety bushels.]
_28th, Sunday._ We went to church in the morning, and heard Domine
Schaets preach, who, although he is a poor, old, ignorant person, and
besides is not of good life, yet had to give utterance to his passion,
having taken his text largely upon us, at which many of his auditors,
who knew us better, were not well pleased, and blamed, condemned, and
derided him for it, which we corrected.[347]
[Footnote 347: Rev. Gideon Schaets (1608-1694) was minister of
Rensselaerswyck from 1652 to 1657, and of Fort Orange (Beverwyck,
Albany) from 1657 to 1694.]
In the afternoon, we took a walk to an island upon the end of which
there is a fort built, they say, by the Spaniards. That a fort has
been there is evident enough from the earth thrown up and strewn
around, but it is not to be supposed that the Spaniards came so far
inland to build forts, when there are no monuments of them to be seen
elsewhere and down on the sea coasts, where, however, they have been
according to the traditions of the Indians. This spot is a short
hour's distance below Albany, on the west side of the river.[348]
[Footnote 348: With these data may be compared the matter of the
Pompey Stone, found in Pompey, N.Y., and bearing apparently a Spanish
inscription of 1520.]
_29th, Monday._ We should have left to-day, but it was not yet to
happen, for our skipper, so he said, could not obtain his passport. We
called upon several persons, and among others, upon the woman who had
brought up Illetie, the Indian woman, and had first taken her from the
Indians, and to whom we have alluded before. This woman, although not
of openly godless life, is more wise than devout, although her
knowledge is not very extensive, and does not surpass that of the
women of New Netherland. She is a truly worldly woman, proud and
conceited, and sharp in trading with _wild_[349] people, as well as
_tame_ ones, or what shall I call them, not to give them the name of
Christians, or if I do, it is only to distinguish them from the
others. This trading is not carried on without fraud, and she is not
free from it, as I have observed. She has a husband, which is her
second one, and he I believe is a Papist. He remains at home quietly,
while she travels over the country to carry on the trading. In fine
she is one of the Dutch female traders, who understand their business
so well. If these be the persons who are to make Christians of the
heathen, what will the latter be? But God employs such means as
pleases Him to accomplish His purposes. He had given Illetie more
grace than to her, we are very certain.
[Footnote 349: _Wild_, savage, is the word commonly used by the Dutch
of that time to denote the Indians.]
We were also invited to the fort by the Heer commandant, who wished to
see us, but left it to our convenience. We went there with Robert
Sanders, who interpreted for us. This gentleman received us politely.
He said he was pleased to receive us, and to learn how we liked the
lands up above, and made a few such common observations. He seemed to
be not unreasonable, and a reliable person. If he was not a Scotchman,
he seemed nevertheless to be a good Englishman, and, as we thought, a
Presbyterian. We soon took a friendly leave, and returned home.
We spoke seriously to Robert Sanders about his pride, arrogance,
temper, and passion, although according to the world's reputation he
is not of bad character. His wife is more simple and a better person;
we spoke to her also, as well as to their children, especially to the
oldest, named Elizabeth, who was tender-hearted and affectionate. He
and all of them promised to improve and reform themselves somewhat,
and we saw with consolation that they in some things commenced to do
so.
_30th, Tuesday._ We were ready to leave early, but it ran well on
towards noon, when with a head wind, but a strong current down, we
tacked over to Kinderhoeck, lying on the east shore sixteen miles
below Albany.