character. In 1626, fifteen years before, a venerable Indian warrior, accompanied by his nephew, a lad of tender age, came to New Amsterdam with some furs, which he intended to sell at the fort. Passing by the edge of the "Collect," a natural pond in the lower part of Manhattan Island, he was stopped by three laborers belonging to the farm of Director Minuit (said to have been negroes), who, coveting the valuable property which he bore, slew him and made off with the goods, but permitted the boy to escape. The latter, after the custom of his race in circumstances of personal grievance, made a vow of vengeance, which in 1641, having arrived at manhood's estate, he executed in the most deliberate and cruel manner, he one day entered the shop of Claes Cornelisz Smits, a wheelwright living near Turtle Bay, in the vicinity of Forty-fifth street and the East River. The Dutchman, who knew him well, suspected no harm, and, after setting food before him, went to a chest to get some cloth which the young savage had said he came to purchase. The other fell upon him from behind, and struck him dead with an ax. This terrible deed aroused strong feeling throughout the settlements, and Director Kieft demanded satisfaction of the chief of the Weckquaesgecks, the tribe to which the offender belonged. An exasperating answer was returned, to the effect that the accused had but avenged a wrong, and that, in the private opinion of the chief, it would not have been excessive if twenty Christians had been killed in retaliation. The only recourse now left was to declare war against the savages, and to this end all the heads of families were summoned to meet on August 29, 1641, " for the consideration of some important and necessary matters." The assembled citizens selected a council of twelve men, who, upon advising together, recommended that further efforts be made to have the murderer delivered up to justice. All endeavors in this line proving unsuccessful, war was declared in the spring of 1642. Hendrick Van Dyck, an ensign in the company's service, was placed in command of eighty men, with instructions to proceed against the Weekquaesgecks and " execute summary vengeance upon that tribe with fire and sword." This party crossed into our county, and, under the direction of a guide supposed to be experienced and trustworthy, marched through the woods with the intent of attacking the Indian village, which then occupied the site of Dobbs Ferry. But they lost their way, and were obliged to come ingloriously back. Shortly afterward a treaty of peace was signed at Bronck's house, the Indians engaging to give up the murderer of Smith's, dead or alive. The first period of the war was thus brought to an end.
But causes of irritation still existed, which were not done away with as time passed. The assassin was not surrendered according to agreement, and the savages continued to commit outrages, which greatly incensed the not too amiable Dutch director-general. The next event of importance was an act of aggression against the Indians, quite as barbarous as any ever perpetrated by the latter, which has covered Kieft's name with infamy. Early in February, 1643, a band of Mohawks from the north made a descent upon the Mohican tribes, for the purpose of levying tribute. Many of the Weekquaesgecks and Tappaens, to escape death at the hands of the invaders, fled to the Dutch settlements; and thus large parties of Indian fugitives belonging in part to a tribe against whom Kieft cherished bitter resentment were gradually congregated within close proximity to New Amsterdam. The director, seizing the opportunity for vengeance thus presented, secretly dispatched a body of soldiers across the Hudson to Pavonia, which had been selected by most of the fleeing savages as their headquarters, and on the night between the 25th and 26th of February these natives were indiscriminately massacred. " Nearly a hundred," says Bancroft, " perished in the carnage. Daybreak did not end its horrors; men might be seen, mangled and helpless, suffering from cold and hunger; children were tossed into the stream, and as their parents plunged to their rescue the soldiers prevented their landing, that both child and parent might drown." Similar scenes were enacted at Corlaer's Hook, where forty Indians were slaughtered. In 1886 the remains of some of these victims of Kieft's inhumanity and treachery were unearthed by persons making excavations at Communipaw Avenue and Halliday Street, Jersey City. A newspaper report published at the time, after reciting the historical facts of the tragedy, gave the following particulars: "Trenches were dug (by the soldiers) and the bodies thrown into them indiscriminately. The scene of the butchery is now known as Lafayette, and after nearly two and a half centuries one of the trenches has been opened. Crowds gathered around the place yesterday while the excavating was going on, and looked at the skulls and bones. The number of the bodies can only be determined by means of the skulls, as the bones are all mixed together, and many of them crumble at the touch into fine dust."
A furious war of revenge was now proclaimed by the savages, a general alliance of the tribes being effected. Even the Long Island Indians, who had formerly dwelt on terms of amity with the settlers, rose against the common white foe. The settlement planted in the previous year at Maspeth by the Rev. Francis Doughty, father of Elias Doughty, who in 1666 became the purchaser of Van der Donck's patroonship of Yonkers, was entirely swept away; and another English settlement at Gravesend, presided over by Lady Moody (an exile from New England, like Anne Hutchinson, on account of religious belief), was three times fiercely attacked, but, being excellently stockaded, successfully resisted the desperate assailants. Historical writers upon this gloomy period vie with each other in vivid descriptions of its terrors. " The tomahawk, the firebrand, and scalping-knife," says O'Callaghan, " were clutched with all the ferocity of frenzy, and the war-whoop rang from the Raritan to the Connecticut. Every settler on whom they laid hands was murdered, women and children dragged into captivity, and, though the settlements around Fort Amsterdam extended, at this period, thirty English miles to the east and twenty-one to the north and south, the enemy burned the dwellings, desolated the farms and farmhouses, killed the cattle, destroyed the crops of grain, hay, and tobacco, laid waste the country all around, and drove the settlers, panic-stricken, into Fort Amsterdam." Roger Williams, who was in New Amsterdam during that eventful spring writes: " Mine eyes saw the flames of their towns, the frights and hurries of men, women, and children, and the present removal of all who could to Holland." Nevertheless, after a few weeks of violent aggression, the Indians were persuaded to sign another peace, negotiated mainly through the prudent efforts of the patroon David Pietersen de Vries. This treaty included the solemn declaration that " all injuries committed by the said natives against the Netherland er, or by the Netherlander against said natives, shall be forgiven and forgotten forever, reciprocally promising one the other to cause no trouble the one to the other."
There is no doubt that the Dutch, alarmed for the very existence of their New Netherland colony, this time most scrupulously observed the compact entered into; but the Indians, still restless and unsatiated, renewed hostilities with the expiration of the summer season. In September they attacked and captured two boats descending the river from Fort Orange, and, resuming their programme of promiscuous slaughter, they soon afterward murdered the New England refugees on the coast of the Sound and burnt their dwellings. It was consequently resolved by the Dutch to take up arms once more, and, if possible, administer a crushing blow to the power of their enemy, a resolve which, during the ensuing winter, they were enabled by good fortune to realize, at least to the limit of reasonable expectation.
Kieft first sent a force to scour Staten Island, which, like Van Dyck's Westchester expedition of 1642, returned without results, no foe being encountered. A detachment of one hundred and twenty men was then dispatched by water to the English settlement of Greenwich, on the Sound, it having been reported that a large body of hostile Indians was encamped in the vicinity of that place. Disappointment was also experienced there. After marching all night without finding the expected enemy, the troops came to Stamford, where they halted to wait for fresh information. From here a raid was made on a small Indian village (probably lying within Westchester borders), and some twenty braves were put to death. An aged Indian who had been taken prisoner now volunteered to lead the Dutch to one of the strongholds of the natives, consisting of three powerful castles. He kept his promise; but, although the castles were duly found, they were deserted. Two of them were burned, the third being reserved for purposes of retreat in case of emergency. Thus the second armed expedition sent into Westchester County accomplished comparatively little in the way of inflicting the long-de sired punishment upon the audacious savages. Numbers of Westchester Indians (mostly women and children) were captured and sent to Fort Amsterdam, where, as testified by Dutch official records, they were treated with malignant cruelty.
The next move was somewhat more successful. A mixed force of English and Dutch, commanded jointly
