WILLIAM KIEFT and the WAR with the INDIANS
A dreary winter came and went, and just as the first signs of spring
showed in the fields that closed about the fort, a ship sailed up the
bay, bringing a stranger to the province.
This was William Kieft, the new Governor of New Netherland.
He was a blustering man, who became very angry when anyone disagreed
with him, and who very soon was known as "William the Testy." He made no
effort to make the Indians his friends, and the result was that much of
his rule of ten years was a term of bloody warfare.
The affairs of the Company had been sadly neglected by Governor Van
Twiller, and Governor Kieft, in a nervous, testy, energetic fashion set
about remedying them. The fort was almost in ruins from neglect. The
church was in little better condition. The mills were so out of repair
that even if the wind could have reached them they could not have been
made to do their work properly. There were smugglers who carried away
furs without even a thought of the koopman, who was waiting to record
the duties which should have been paid on them. There were those who
defied all law and order, and sold guns and powder and liquor to the
Indians, regardless of the fact that the penalty for doing so was death.
For guns and liquor had been found to be dangerous things to put in
savage hands.
Governor Kieft rebuilt the houses, put down all smugglers, and set
matters in New Amsterdam in good working order generally. The patroon
system of peopling the colony had proven a total failure. So, soon after
Kieft came, the West India Company decided on another plan. They
furnished free passage to anyone who promised to cultivate land in the
new country. In this way there would be no patroons to act as masters.
Each man would own his land, and could come and go as he saw fit. This
brought many colonists.
[Illustration: The Bowling Green in 1840.]
At this time there were really only two well-defined roads on the Island
of Manhattan. One stretched up through the island and led to the
outlying farms and afterward became The Bowery; the second led along the
water-side, and is to-day Pearl Street. Bowling Green, although it was
not called Bowling Green then, was the open space in front of the fort
where the people gathered on holidays. In the fourth year of Governor
Kieft's rule, he conceived the idea of holding fairs in this open space,
where fine cows and fat pigs could be exhibited. These fairs attracted
so many visitors from distant parts of the colony, that the Governor had
a large stone house built, with a roof running up steep to a peak, in
regular, step-like form. This was called a tavern, and could accommodate
all the visitors. In after years it became the first City Hall.
If you wish to stand where this building was, you must go to the head of
Coenties Slip, in Pearl Street. On the building which is there now you
will see a bronze tablet which tells all about the old Stadt Huys.
The church that Walter Van Twiller had built was little better than a
barn. The minister wanted a new one. So did his congregation. Governor
Kieft decided that there should be one of stone, and that it should be
built inside the fort. There was a question as how to secure the money
to build it. Kieft gave a small amount, as did other colonists, but
there was not enough. Fortunately, just at this time, a daughter of
Bogardus, the minister, was married. At the wedding, when the guests
were in good humor, a subscription-list was handed out. The guests tried
to outdo one another in subscribing money for the new church. Next day
some of the subscribers were sorry they had agreed to give so much, but
the Governor accepted no excuses and insisted on the money. It was
collected, and the church was built. Close upon this time Kieft decided
that he needed money for other work, and he told the Indians of the
province that he expected something from them. Of course the Indians had
no such money as we have in these days. They used instead beads, very
handsome and made from clam-shells. These beads were arranged on
strings. There were black ones and white ones, and the black were worth
twice as much as the white. The Indians did not see why they should give
money to the Governor. Kieft explained that it was to pay for the
protection given to them by the Dutch. Then the Indians understood less
than ever, for the Dutch had never done anything for them except to
give them as little as they could for their valuable furs. The Indians
hated Kieft, and this act of his made their hatred more bitter. A
war-cloud was gathering. The Indians were well prepared for war, for
they had been supplied with guns, with bullets, and with powder by those
greedy Dutchmen, the smugglers, who thought more of their personal
gains than of the safety of the colonists.
[Illustration: Selling Arms to the Indians.]
Over on Staten Island about this time, an Indian stole several hogs
from a colonist. Kieft's soldiers found the tribe to which the Indian
belonged, and in revenge killed ten Indian warriors. After this the
war-cloud grew darker.
Kieft was anxious that there should be war. But there were many of the
colonists who did all in their power to prevent it. The men who wanted
peace were headed by that able sailor, Captain David Pietersen De Vries,
who had founded a colony on Staten Island. A council of twelve men was
formed to decide whether there should be peace or war. This council
declared that there should be no war. They then began to look into
public affairs, for they thought it all wrong that Kieft should have
the only voice in the management. The Governor regretted having called
together the twelve men. But he soon got rid of them, and to show that
he was still absolute ruler, he decided to make war upon the Indians.
Then the war-cloud broke.
Those Indians who lived nearest New Amsterdam were fighting with another
tribe called the Mohawks. The nearby Indians thought that since Kieft
had been paid to protect them, he should do so now. So they gathered,
some on the Island of Manhattan, and some on the nearby shore of New
Jersey. But instead of protecting them, Kieft sent his soldiers against
these friendly Indians, and in the night killed them as they slept. The
soldiers came so suddenly upon the Indians, sleeping peacefully on the
Jersey shore, and slew them so quickly in the darkness, that the Indians
believed they had been attacked by the unfriendly tribe. One Indian,
with his squaw, made his way to the fort. He was met at the gate by De
Vries. "Save us," he cried, "the Mohawks have fallen upon us, and have
killed all our people." But De Vries answered, sadly, "No Indian has
done this. It is the Dutch who have killed your people." And he pointed
toward the deep woods close by. "Go there for safety, but do not come
here."
This was not war. It was murder. A cruel, treacherous act, which the
greater number of colonists condemned and the record of which is a dark
stain on the memory of William Kieft.
After this, all the Indians within the border of New Netherland
combined. Colonists were shot as they worked in the fields. Cattle were
driven away. Houses were robbed and burned. Women and children were
dragged into captivity. The war raged fiercely for three years. By this
time Indians and colonists were worn out. Then the war ended. But
scarcely a hundred men were left on the Island of Manhattan. The country
was a waste.
A strong fence had been built across the island, to keep what cattle
remained within bounds. This fence marked the extreme limit of the
settlement of New Amsterdam. The fence in time gave place to a wall, and
when in still later years the wall was demolished and a street laid out
where it had been, the thoroughfare was called Wall Street, and remains
so to this day.
While the entire province was in a very bad way, and the people
suffering on every side, Governor Kieft sent to the West India Company
in Holland _his_ version of the war. He showed himself to be all in the
right, and proved, to his own satisfaction, that the province was in a
fairly good condition; though during all the years he had been Governor
he had not once left the settlement on the Island of Manhattan to look
after other parts.
Certain of the colonists also sent a report to Holland. Theirs being
much nearer the truth, carried such weight with it, that the West India
Company decided on the immediate recall of Governor Kieft, who had done
so much injury to the colony, and had shown himself to be utterly
incapable of governing.
Kieft returned to Holland in a ship that was packed from stem to stern
with the finest of furs. The ship was wrecked at sea. Kieft was drowned,
and the furs were lost.
In the same ship was Everardus Bogardus (the minister who had married
Annetje Jans), who was on his way to Holland on a mission relating to
his church. The people of New Amsterdam mourned for their minister, but
there was little sorrow felt for the Governor who had plunged the colony
in war by his obstinate and cruel temper.
[Illustration: Smoking the Pipe of Peace.]