THE FINAL SURRENDER.
The Summons.--The Bombardment.--Disembarkation of the Land
Force.--Indecision of Captain Manning.--The
Surrender.--Short Administration of the Dutch.--Social
Customs.--The Tea Party.--Testimony of Travellers.--Visit to
Long Island.--Fruitfulness of the Country.--Exploration of
Manhattan Island.
The Dutch ships, having anchored and prepared themselves for the
immediate opening of the bombardment, a boat was sent on shore with a
flag of truce, to demand the surrender of the city. At the same time a
boat was sent by Colonel Manning, from the fort to the ships. The
boats passed each other without any interchange of words. Colonel
Manning's boat bore simply the message to the Dutch Admirals, "Why do
you come in such a hostile manner to disturb his Majesty's subjects in
this place?" As England and Holland were then engaged in open war, one
would hardly think that such an inquiry was then called for. When
Colonel Nicholls came to New Amsterdam with his English fleet, the two
nations were in friendly alliance. Such a question then would have
been very appropriate.
The boat from the Dutch fleet bore a flag of truce at its stern, and
was accompanied by a trumpeter, who asked for the English officer in
command and presented the following message to Colonel Manning:
"The force of war, now lying in your sight, is sent by the
High and Mighty States-General and his serene Highness the
Prince of Orange, for the purpose of destroying their
enemies. We have sent you therefore, this letter, together
with our trumpeter, to the end that, upon the sight hereof,
you surrender unto us the fort called James, promising good
quarter; or by your refusal we shall be obliged to proceed,
both by land and water, in such manner as we shall find to
be most advantageous for the High and Mighty States."
Captain Manning returned an answer simply acknowledging the receipt of
the message, and informing the Dutch Admirals that he had already
dispatched officers to communicate with him. He promised upon the
return of those messengers to give a definite reply to his summons.
The Dutch Admirals, Benckes and Evertson, were not disposed to waste
any time in parleying. They probably remembered the circumstances
under which the province of New Netherland had been wrested from them
by its present possessors, and they rejoiced that the hour of
retribution had thus unexpectedly come.
They therefore sent back word that their batteries were loaded and
shotted and ready to open fire; that one half hour and one half hour
only, would be granted for deliberation; that immediately upon the
arrival of the boat at the fort the half hour glass would be turned
up; and that if, when its last sands fell, the white flag of surrender
were not raised upon the fort, the bombardment would be commenced.
The last sands fell and no white flag appeared. Instantly the thunder
of a cannon echoed over the bay, and a storm of iron hail came
crashing upon the frail fort, killing and wounding a number of men.
Volley after volley succeeded without any intermission. Captain
Manning made no attempt to return the fire. He and his powerless
garrison hurried to places of safety, leaving the ramparts to be
ploughed up and the barracks to be battered down without any
resistance.
While this cannonade was going on, the Dutch Admirals manned their
boats with a land force of six hundred men, and they were disembarked
upon the shore of the island without encountering any foe. The little
band of English soldiers was powerless, and the Dutch inhabitants were
much more disposed to welcome their countrymen as deliverers than to
oppose them as enemies. These Dutch troops were armed with hand
grenades and such other weapons as were deemed necessary to take the
place by storm. Rapidly they marched through the fields to the Common,
now called the Park. It was, as we have mentioned, nearly a mile north
from the fort.
Here they formed in column to march upon the town, under their leader,
Captain Colve. The English commander, Captain Manning, sent three of
his subordinate officers, without any definite message, to Captain
Colve, to talk over the question of a capitulation. It would seem that
Captain Manning was quite incompetent for the post he occupied. He was
bewildered and knew not what to do. As his envoys had no proposals to
make, two of them were detained and held under the Dutch standard,
while the third, Captain Carr, was sent back to inform the English
commander that if in one quarter of an hour the place were not
surrendered, it would be taken by storm. In the meantime the troops
were put upon the march.
Captain Carr, aware of the indecision of Captain Manning and of the
personal peril he, as an Englishman, would encounter, with six hundred
Dutch soldiers sweeping the streets, burning with the desire to avenge
past wrongs, did not venture back into the town with his report, but
fled into the interior of the island. The troops pressed on to the
head of Broadway, where a trumpeter was sent forward to receive the
answer to the summons which it was supposed had been made. He speedily
returned, saying that the commander of the fort had, as yet, obtained
no answer from the commissioners he had sent to receive from the Dutch
commander his propositions.
Captain Colve supposed that he was trifled with. Indignantly he
exclaimed "They are not to play the fool with us in this way, forward
march." With the beat of drums and trumpet peals and waving banners
his solid columns marched down the Broadway road to the little cluster
of about three hundred houses, at the extreme southern point of the
island. An army of six hundred men at that time and place presented a
very imposing and terrible military array. In front of his troops the
two commissioners who had been detained, were marched under guard.
As they approached the fort, Captain Manning sent another flag of
truce to the Dutch commander, with the statement that he was ready to
surrender the fort with all its arms and ammunition, if the officers
and soldiers were permitted to march out with their private property
and to the music of their band. These terms were acceded to. The
English troops, with no triumphal strains, vacated the fort. The Dutch
banners soon waved from the ramparts, cheered by the acclaim of the
conquerors.
Captain Manning was, in his turn, as severely censured by the people
of the English colonies in America, and by the home government, as
Governor Stuyvesant had been on the day of his misfortune. English
pride was grievously mortified, that the commandant of an English fort
should allow himself to be fired upon for hours without returning a
shot.
The unfortunate captain was subsequently tried by court-martial for
cowardice and treachery. He was condemned. His sword was broken over
his head and he was declared incompetent forever to hold any station
of trust or authority under the government. Governor Lovelace was
condemned for neglect of duty. He received a severe reprimand, and all
his property was confiscated to the Duke of York.
The victorious Dutch commanders appointed Captain Colve as governor of
recaptured New Netherland. With great energy he commenced his rule.
The name of New York was changed to New Orange, and fort James became
fort Hendrick. Work was immediately commenced upon the fortifications,
and large sums of money were expended upon them, so that within two
months they were deemed so strong that it was thought that no English
fleet would dare to venture within range of their guns. The whole city
assumed the aspect of a military post. Nearly every citizen was
trained to arms. The Common, now the Park, was the parade ground where
the troops were daily drilled. It was very firmly resolved that the
city should not again surrender without the firing of a gun.
The municipal institutions were all re-organized to conform to those
of the fatherland. This second administration of the Dutch was of but
short duration. On the 9th of January, 1674, but about three months
after the re-capture of the city, a treaty of peace was signed between
England and Holland. The sixth article of this treaty read as follows,
"Whatsoever countries, islands, ports, towns, castles or
forts have been taken on both sides, since the time that the
late unhappy war broke out, either in Europe or elsewhere,
shall be restored to the former lord or proprietor in the
same condition they shall be in when peace itself shall be
proclaimed."
Several months however transpired before the actual re-surrender of
the city to the English. On the 10th of November 1674, a little more
than one year after the capture of the city by the Dutch, this change
took place. Mr. David V. Valentine writes:
"This event was not distasteful to the great body of the
citizens, whose national sentiment had, in a measure, given
way before the obvious advantages to their individual
interests of having a settled authority established over
them, with the additional privilege of English institutions
which were then considered of a liberal tendency."
In conclusion, we have but a few words to say respecting the manners
and customs in the thriving little village of New York, in these
primitive days. People were then, to say the least, as happy as they
are now. Food was abundant, and New York was far-famed for its cordial
hospitality. Days of recreation were more abundant than now. The
principal social festivals were "quilting," "apple paring" and
"husking." Birthdays, christenings, and marriage anniversaries were
also celebrated with much festivity. Upon most of these occasions
there was abundant feasting. Dancing was the favorite amusement, with
which the evening was almost invariably terminated. In this busy
community the repose of the night was necessary to prepare for the
labors of the ensuing day. The ringing of the nine o'clock bell was
the signal for all to retire.
A mild form of negro slavery existed in those days. The slaves danced
to the music of their rude instruments in the markets. The young men
and maidens often met on the Bowling green and danced around the May
pole. Turkey shooting was a favorite amusement, which usually took
place on the Common. New Year's Day was devoted to the interchange of
visits. Every door was thrown open, and all guests were welcome,
friends as well as strangers, as at a Presidential levee. This custom
of olden time has passed down to us from our worthy Dutch
predecessors. Dinner parties were unknown. But tea-parties, with the
ladies, were very common.
"To take tea out," writes Mr. William L. Stone, in his interesting
History of New York,
"was a Dutch institution, and one of great importance. The
matrons, arrayed in their best petticoats and linsey
jackets, home-spun by their own wheels, would proceed on the
intended afternoon visit. They wore capacious pockets, with
scissors, pin-cushion and keys hanging from their girdle,
outside of their dress; and reaching the neighbor's house
the visitors industriously used knitting needles and tongues
at the same time. The village gossip was talked over;
neighbors' affairs settled, and the stockings finished by
tea-time, when the important meal appeared on the table,
precisely at six o'clock.
"This was always the occasion for the display of the family
plate, with the Lilliputian cups, of rare old family china,
out of which the guests sipped the fragrant herb. A large
lump of loaf sugar invariably accompanied each cup, on a
little plate, and the delightful beverage was sweetened by
an occasional nibble, amid the more solid articles of
waffles and Dutch doughnuts. The pleasant visit finished,
the visitors donning cloaks and hoods, as bonnets were
unknown, proceeded homeward in time for milking and other
necessary household duties.
"The kitchen fire-places were of immense size large enough
to roast a whole sheep. The hooks and trammels sustained
large iron pots and kettles. In the spacious chimney-corners
the children and negroes gathered, telling stories and
cracking nuts by the blazing pine-knots, while the
industrious _vrows_ turned the merry spinning-wheel, and
their lords, the worthy burghers, mayhap just returned from
an Indian scrimmage, quietly smoked their long pipes, as
they sat watching the wreaths curling above their heads. At
length the clock with its brazen tongue having proclaimed
the hour of nine, family prayers were said, and all retired,
to rise with the dawn."
In the summer of 1679, but five years after the final accession of New
Netherland by the English, two gentlemen from Holland, as the
committee of a religious sect, visited the Hudson river, to report
respecting the condition of the country, and to select a suitable
place for the establishment of a colony. They kept a minute journal of
their daily adventures. From their narrative one can obtain a very
vivid picture of New York life two hundred years ago.
On Saturday, the 23d day of September, they landed at New York, and
found it a very strange place. A fellow passenger, whose name was
Gerritt, and who was on his return from Europe, resided in New York.
He took the travellers to the house of one of his friends, where they
were regaled with very luscious peaches, and apples far better than
any they had seen in Holland. They took a walk out into the fields and
were surprised to see how profusely the orchards wore laden with
fruit. They took up lodgings with the father-in-law of their
fellow-traveller, and in the evening were regaled with rich milk. The
next day was Sunday.
"We walked awhile," they write,
"in the pure mountain air, along the margin of the clear
running water of the sea, which is driven up this river at
every tide. We went to church and found truly there a wild
worldly people. I say wild, not only because the people are
wild, as they call it in Europe, but because most all the
people who go there, partake somewhat of the nature of the
country; that is peculiar to the land where they live."
The preacher did not please them. "He used such strange gestures and
language," writes one of them, "that I think I never in my life heard
anything more miserable. As it is not strange in these countries, to
have men as ministers, who drink, we could imagine nothing else than
that he had been drinking a little this morning. His text was _Come
unto me all ye, etc._; but he was so rough that the roughest and most
godless of our sailors were astonished.
"The church being in the fort, we had an opportunity to look
through the latter, as we had come too early for preaching.
The fort is built upon the point formed by the two rivers,
namely the East river, which is the water running between
the Manhattans and Long Island, and the North river, which
runs straight up to fort Orange. In front of the fort there
is a small island called Nut Island. Around the point of
this vessels must sail in going out or in, whereby they are
compelled to pass close by the point of the fort, where they
can be flanked by several of the batteries. It has only one
gate and that is on the land side, opening upon a broad lane
or street, called the Broadway."
They went to church again in the afternoon. "After preaching," they
write,
"the good old people with whom we lodged, who, indeed if
they were not the best on all the Manhattan, were at least
among the best, especially the wife, begged we would go with
their son Gerrit, to one of their daughters who lived in a
delightful place and kept a tavern, where we would be able
to taste the beer of New Netherland. So we went, for the
purpose of seeing what was to be seen. But when we arrived
there we were much deceived. On account of its being, to
some extent, a pleasant spot, it was resorted to on Sundays
by all sorts of revellers and was a low pothouse. It being
repugnant to our feelings to be there, we walked into the
orchard, to seek pleasure in contemplating the innocent
objects of nature. A great storm of rain coming up in the
evening, we retraced our steps in the dark, exploring our
way through a salt meadow, and over water upon the trunk of
a tree."
On Thursday the 26th, our two travellers, at two o'clock in the
afternoon, crossed East river to visit Long Island. The fare in the
ferry-boat, which was rowed across, was three stivers, less than half
a cent of our money, for each person. They climbed the hill and walked
along through an open road and a little woods to "the first village,
called Breukelen, which has a small and ugly little church in the
middle of the road." The island was then mostly inhabited by Indians.
There were several flourishing farms in the vicinity of Brooklyn,
which they visited and where they were bountifully regaled with milk,
cider, fruit, tobacco and "first and most of all, miserable rum,
brought from Barbadoes, and which is called by the Dutch _kill
devil_."
The peach orchards were breaking down beneath the burden of luscious
fruit. They often could not step without trampling upon the peaches,
and yet the trees were full as they could bear. Though the swine were
fattened upon them, still large numbers perished upon the ground. In
the evening they went on to a place called Gouanes, where they were
very hospitably entertained. It was a chill evening, and they found a
brilliant fire of hickory wood crackling upon the hearth.
"There had already been thrown upon it," they write,
"a pail full of Gouanes oysters, which are the best in the
country. They are large, some of them not less than a foot
long, and they grow, sometimes ten, twelve and sixteen
together, and are then like a piece of rock. We had for
supper a roasted haunch of venison which weighed thirty
pounds, and which he had bought of the Indians for fifteen
cents. The meat was exceedingly tender and good and quite
fat. We were served also with wild turkey, which was also
fat and of a good flavor, and a wild goose. Everything we
had was the natural production of the country. We saw lying
in a heap, a hill of watermelons as large as pumpkins. It
was late at night when we went to rest, in a Kermis bed, as
it is called, in the corner of the hearth, alongside of a
good fire."
"The next morning they threaded their way through the
forest, and along the shore to the extreme west end of the
island, where fort Hamilton now stands. They passed through
a large plantation, of the Najack Indians, which was waving
with corn. A noise of pounding drew them to a place where a
very aged Indian woman was beating beans out of the pods
with a stick, which she did with amazing dexterity. Near by
was the little cluster of houses of the dwindling tribe. The
village consisted of seven or eight huts, occupied by
between twenty and thirty Indians, men, women and children.
"These huts were about sixty feet long and fifteen wide. The
floor was of earth. The posts were large limbs of trees,
planted firmly in the ground. The sides were of reeds and
the bark of trees. An open space, about six inches wide, ran
along the whole length of the roof, for the passage of
smoke. On the sides the roof was so low that a man could not
stand under it.
"They build their fire in the middle of the floor, according
to the number of families which live in the hut; not only
the families themselves, but each Indian alone, according as
he is hungry, at all hours morning, noon and night. They lie
upon mats with their feet towards the fire. All in one
house, are generally of one stock, as father and mother,
with their offspring. Their bread is maize, pounded by a
stone, which is mixed with water and baked under the hot
ashes.
"They gave us a small piece when we entered; and although
the grains were not ripe, and it was half-baked and coarse
grains, we nevertheless had to eat it, or at least not throw
it away before them, which they would have regarded as a
great sin, or a great affront. We chewed a little of it with
long teeth, and managed to hide it so that they did not see
it.
"On Wednesday a farmer harnessed his horse to a wagon and
carried them back to the city. The road led through the
forest and over very rough and stony hills, making the ride
quite uncomfortable. Passing again through the little
village of _Breukelen_, they crossed the ferry and reached
home about noon. On Friday they took an exploring tour
through the island of Manhattan. Their pleasant description
is worth transcribing.
"This island is about seven hours distance in length, but it
is not a full hour broad. The sides are indented with bays,
coves and creeks. It is almost entirely taken up, that is
the land is held by private owners, but not half of it is
cultivated. Much of it is good woodland. The west end, on
which the city lies, is entirely cleared, for more than an
hour's distance, though that is the poorest ground; the best
being on the east and north side. There are many brooks of
fresh water running through it, pleasant and proper for man
and beast to drink; as well as agreeable to behold,
affording cool and pleasant resting places, but especially
suitable places for the construction of mills, for though
there is no overflow of water, it can be used.
"A little east of New Harlaem, there are two ridges of very
high rocks, with a considerable space between them,
displaying themselves very majestically, and inviting all
men to acknowledge in them the grandeur, power and glory of
the Creator, who has impressed such marks upon them. Between
them runs the road to _Spuyt den Duyvel_. The one to the
north is the most apparent. The south ridge is covered with
earth on its north side, but it can be seen from the water
or from the mainland beyond to the south. The soil between
these ridges is very good, though a little hilly and stony.
It would be very suitable, in my opinion, for planting
vineyards, in consequence of its being shut off on both
sides, from the winds which would most injure them; and it
is very warm. We found blue grapes along the road, which
were very good and sweet, and as good as any I have tasted
in the fatherland.
"We went from the city, following the Broadway, over the
valley or the fresh water. Upon both sides of this way there
were many habitations of negroes, mulattoes and whites. The
negroes were formerly the slaves of the West India Company.
But, in consequence of the frequent changes and conquests of
the country, they have obtained their freedom, and settled
themselves down where they thought proper, and thus on this
road, where they have grown enough to live on with their
families. We left the village called Bowery on the right
hand, and went through the woods to Harlaem, a tolerably
large village situated directly opposite the place where the
northeast creek and the East river come together. It is
about three hours' journey from New Amsterdam."
From the account which these gentlemen give, the morals of the people
certainly do not appear to have been essentially better than now. They
passed the night at the house of the sheriff. "This house was
constantly filled with people all the time drinking, for the most
part, that execrable rum. He had also the best cider we have tasted.
Among the crowd we found a person of quality, an Englishman, named
Captain Carteret, whose father is in great favor with the king. The
king has given his father, Sir George Carteret, the entire government
of the lands west of the North river in New Netherland, with power to
appoint as governor whom he pleases.
"This son is a very profligate person. He married a
merchant's daughter here, and has so lived with his wife
that her father has been compelled to take her home again.
He runs about among the farmers and stays where he can find
most to drink, and sleeps in barns on the straw. If he
conducted himself properly, he could be, not only governor
here, but hold higher positions, for he has studied the
moralities and seems to have been of a good understanding.
But that is all now drowned. His father, who will not
acknowledge him as his son, allows him yearly as much only
as is necessary for him to live on."
Saturday morning they set out from Harlaem village to go to the
northern extremity of the island.
"Before we left we did not omit supplying ourselves with
peaches, which grew in an orchard along the road. The whole
ground was covered with them and with apples lying upon the
new grain with which the orchard was planted. The peaches
were the most delicious we had yet eaten. We proceeded on
our way and when we were not far from the point of _Spuyt
den Duyvel_, we could see on our left the rocky cliffs of
the mainland, and on the other side of the North river these
cliffs standing straight up and down, with the grain just as
if they were antimony.
"We crossed over the _Spuyt den Duyvel_ in a canoe, and paid
nine stivers fare for us three, which was very dear.[12] We
followed the opposite side of the land and came to the house
of one Valentyn. He had gone to the city; but his wife was
so much rejoiced to see Hollanders that she hardly knew what
to do for us. She set before us what she had. We left after
breakfasting there. Her son showed us the way, and we came
to a road entirely covered with peaches. We asked a boy why
he let them lie there and why he did not let the hogs eat
them. He answered 'We do not know what to do with them;
there are so many. The hogs are satiated with them and will
not eat any more.'
"We pursued our way now a small distance, through the woods
and over the hills, then back again along the shore to a
point where an English man lived, who was standing ready to
cross over. He carried us over with him and refused to take
any pay for our passage, offering us at the same time, some
of his rum, a liquor which is everywhere. We were now again
at Harlaem, and dined with the sheriff, at whose house we
had slept the night before. It was now two o'clock. Leaving
there, we crossed over the island, which takes about
three-quarters of an hour to do, and came to the North
river. We continued along the shore to the city, where we
arrived in the evening, much fatigued, having walked this
day about forty miles."
The rather singular record for the next day, which was Sunday, was as
follows:
"We went at noon to-day to hear the English minister, whose
service took place after the Dutch service was out. There
were not above twenty-five or thirty people in the church.
The first thing that occurred was the reading of all their
prayers and ceremonies out of the prayer-book, as is done in
all Episcopal churches. A young man then went into the
pulpit, and commenced preaching, who thought he was
performing wonders. But he had a little book in his hand,
out of which he read his sermon which was about quarter of
an hour or half an hour long. With this the services were
concluded; at which we could not be sufficiently
astonished."
Though New York had passed over to British rule, still for very many
years the inhabitants remained Dutch in their manners, customs and
modes of thought. There was a small stream, emptying into the East
river nearly opposite Blackwell's Island. This stream was crossed by a
bridge which was called Kissing Bridge. It was a favorite drive, for
an old Dutch custom entitled every gentleman to salute his lady with a
kiss as he crossed.
The town wind-mill stood on a bluff within the present Battery. Pearl
street at that time formed the river bank. Both Water street and South
street have been reclaimed from the river. The city wall consisted of
a row of palisades, with an embankment nine feet high. Upon the
bastions of this rampart several cannon were mounted.