At the same time he claimed that the territory, north of forty degrees of latitude, which included a large part of New Netherland, and all their Hudson river possessions, belonged to the English. Still he promised that, for the sake of good neighborhood, the English would not molest the Dutch at the mouth of the Hudson, if they would "forbear to trade with the natives in this bay and river of Narragansett and Sowames, which is, as it were, at our doors."

The authorities at Fort Amsterdam could not, for a moment, admit this claim of English supremacy over New Netherland. Director Minuit returned an answer, remarkable for its courteous tone, but in which he firmly maintained the right of the Dutch to trade with the Narragansetts as they had done for years, adding "As the English claim authority under the king of England, so we derive ours from the States of Holland, and we shall defend it."

Governor Bradford sent this correspondence to England. In an accompanying document he said,

"the Dutch, for strength of men and fortification, far exceed us in all this land. They have used trading here for six or seven and twenty years; but have begun to plant of later time; and now have reduced their trade to some order, and confined it only to their company, which, heretofore, was spoiled by their seamen and interlopers, as ours is, this year most notoriously. Besides spoiling our trade, the Dutch continue to sell muskets, powder and shot to the Indians, which will be the overthrow of all, if it be not looked into."

Director Minuit must have possessed some very noble traits of character. After waiting three months to receive a reply to his last communication, he sent another letter, reiterating the most friendly sentiments, and urging that an authorized agent should be sent from Plymouth to New Amsterdam, to confer "by word of mouth, touching our mutual commerce and trading." He stated, moreover, that if it were inconvenient for Governor Bradford to send such an agent, they would depute one to Plymouth themselves. In further token of kindness, he sent to the Plymouth Governor, "a rundlet of sugar and two Holland cheeses."

It is truly refreshing to witness the fraternal spirit manifested on this occasion. How many of the woes of this world might have been averted had the brotherhood of man been thus recognized by the leaders of the nations!

A messenger was sent to Plymouth. He was hospitably entertained, and returned to Fort Amsterdam with such testimonials of his reception as induced Director Minuit to send a formal ambassador to Plymouth, entrusted with plenipotentiary powers. Governor Bradford apologized for not sending an ambassador to Fort Amsterdam, stating, "one of our boats is abroad, and we have much business at home." Director Minuit selected Isaac De Rassieres, secretary of the province, "a man of fair and genteel behavior," as his ambassador. This movement was, to those infant colonies, an event of as much importance as any of the more stately embassies which have been interchanged between European courts.

The barque Nassau was fitted out, and manned with a small band of soldiers, and some trumpeters. It was the last of September, 1629, when earth and sky were bathed in all the glories of New England autumnal days. In De Rassieres' account of the excursion, he writes:

"Sailing through Hell-gate, and along the shores of Connecticut and Rhode Island, we arrived, early the next month, off Frenchman's Point, at a small river where those of New Plymouth have a house, made of hewn oak planks, called Aptuxet; where they keep two men, winter and summer, in order to maintain the trade and possession."

This Aptuxet was at the head of Buzzard's Bay, upon the site of the present village of Monumet, in the town of Sandwich. Near by there was a creek, penetrating the neck of Cape Cod, which approached another creek on the other side so near that, by a portage of but about five miles, goods could be transported across.

As the Nassau came in sight of this lonely trading port suddenly the peals of the Dutch trumpets awoke the echoes of the forest. It was the 4th of October. A letter was immediately dispatched by a fleet-footed Indian runner to Plymouth. A boat was promptly sent to the head of the creek, called Manoucusett, on the north side of the cape, and De Rassieres, with his companions, having threaded the Indian trail through the wilderness for five miles, was received on board the Pilgrims' boat and conveyed to Plymouth, "honorably attended with the noise of trumpeters."²

This meeting was a source of enjoyment to both parties. The two nations of England and Holland were in friendly alliance, and consequently this interview, in the solitudes of the New World, of the representatives of the two colonies, was mutually agreeable. The Pilgrims, having many of them for a long time resided in Holland, cherished memories of that country with feelings of strong affection and regarded the Hollanders almost as fellow-countrymen.

But again Governor Bradford asserted the right of the English to the country claimed by the Dutch, and even intimated that force might soon be employed to vindicate the British pretentions. We must admire the conduct of both parties in this emergency. The Dutch, instead of retaliating with threats and violence, sent a conciliatory memorial to Charles I., then King of England. And Charles, much to his credit, issued an order that all the English ports, whether in the kingdom or in the territories of the British king, should be thrown open to the Dutch vessels, trading to or from New Netherland.

The management of the affairs of the Dutch Colony was entrusted to a body of merchants called the West India Company. In the year 1629, this energetic company purchased of the Indians the exclusive title to a vast territory, extending north from Cape Henlopen, on the south side of Delaware Bay, two miles in breadth and running thirty-two miles inland.

The reader of the record of these days, often meets with the word Patroon, without perhaps having any very distinct idea of its significance. In order to encourage emigration and the establishment of colonies, the authorities in Holland issued a charter, conferring large extents of land and exclusive privileges, upon such members of the West India Company as might undertake to settle any colony in New Netherland.

"All such," it was proclaimed in this charter,

"shall be acknowledged Patroons of New Netherland, who shall, within the space of four years, undertake to plant a colony there of fifty souls upwards of fifteen years of age. The Patroons, by virtue of their power, shall be permitted, at such places as they shall settle their colonies, to extend their limits four miles³ along the shore, and so far into the country as the situation of the occupiers will admit."

The patroons, thus in possession of territory equal to many of the dukedoms and principalities of Europe, were invested with the authority which had been exercised in Europe by the old feudal lords. They could settle all disputes, in civil cases, between man and man. They could appoint local officers and magistrates, erect courts, and punish all crimes committed within their limits, being even authorized to inflict death upon the gallows. They could purchase any amount of unappropriated lands from the Indians.

One of these patroons, Kiliaen Van Rensselaer, a wealthy merchant in Holland, who had been accustomed to polish pearls and diamonds, became, as patroon, possessed of nearly the whole of the present counties of Albany and Rensselaer, in the State cf New York, embracing the vast area of one thousand one hundred and forty-one square miles. Soon all the important points on the Hudson River and the Delaware were thus caught up by these patroons, wealthy merchants of the West India Company.

When the news of these transactions reached Holland, great dissatisfaction was felt by the less fortunate shareholders, that individuals had grasped such a vast extent of territory. It was supposed that Director Minuit was too much in sympathy with the patroons, who were becoming very powerful, and he was recalled. All were compelled to admit that during his administration the condition of the colony had been prosperous. The whole of Manhattan Island had been honestly purchased of the Indians. Industry had flourished. Friendly relations were everywhere maintained with the natives. The northwestern shores of Long Island were studded with the log cottages of the settlers. During his directorship the exports of the colony had trebled, amounting, in the year 1632, to nearly fifty thousand dollars.

We come now to a scene of war, blood and woe, for which the Dutch were not at all accountable. It will be remembered that a colony had been established near the mouth of Delaware Bay. Two vessels were dispatched from Holland for this point containing a number of emigrants, a large stock of cattle, and whaling equipments, as whales abounded in the bay. The ship, called the Walvis, arrived upon the coast in April, 1631. Running along the western shore of this beautiful sheet of water, they came to a fine navigable stream, which was called Horekill, abounding with picturesque islands, with a soil of exuberant fertility, and where the waters were filled with fishes and very fine oysters. There was here also a roadstead unequalled in the whole bay for convenience and safety.

Here the emigrants built a fort and surrounded it with palisades, and a thriving Dutch colony of about thirty souls was planted. They formally named the place, which was near the present town of Lewiston, Swaanendael. A pillar was raised, surmounted by a plate of glittering tin, upon which was emblazoned the arms of Holland; and which also announced that the Dutch claimed the territory by the title of discovery, purchase and occupation.

For awhile the affairs of this colony went on very prosperously. But in May, 1632, an expedition, consisting of two ships, was fitted out from Holland. with additional emigrants and supplies. Just before the vessels left the Texel, a ship from Manhattan brought the melancholy intelligence to Amsterdam that the colony at Swaanendael had been destroyed by the savages, thirty-two men having been killed outside of the fort working in the fields. Still DeVrees, who commanded the expedition, hoping that the report was exaggerated, and that the colony might still live, in sadness and disappointment proceeded on his way. One of his vessels ran upon the sands off Dunkirk, causing a delay of two months. It was not until the end of December that the vessels cast anchor off Swaanendael. No boat from the shore approached; no signs of life met the eye. The next morning a boat, thoroughly armed, was sent into the creek on an exploring tour.

Upon reaching the spot where the fort had been erected they found the building and palisades burned, and the ground strewn with the hones of their murdered countrymen, intermingled with the remains of cattle. The silence and solitude of the tombs brooded over the devastated region. Not even a savage was to be seen. As the boat returned with these melancholy tidings, DeVrees caused a heavy cannon to be fired, hoping that its thunders, reverberating over the bay, and echoing through the trails of the wilderness, might reach the ear of some friendly Indian, from whom he could learn the details of the disaster.

The next morning a smoke was seen curling up from the forest near the ruins. The boat was again sent into the creek, and two or three Indians were seen cautiously prowling about. But mutual distrust stood in the way of any intercourse. The Dutch were as apprehensive of ambuscades and the arrows of the Indians, as were the savages of the bullets of the formidable strangers.

Some of the savages at length ventured to come down to the shore, off which the open boat floated, beyond the reach of arrows. Lured by friendly signs, one of the Indians soon became emboldened to venture on board. He was treated with great kindness, and succeeded in communicating the following, undoubtedly true, account of the destruction of the colony:

"One of the chiefs, seeing the glittering tin plate, emblazoned with the arms of Holland, so conspicuously exposed upon the column, apparently without any consciousness that he was doing anything wrong, openly, without any attempt at secrecy, took it down and quite skilfully manufactured it into tobacco pipes. The commander of the fort, a man by the name of Hossett, complained so bitterly of this, as an outrage that must not pass unavenged, that some of the friendly Indians, to win his favor, killed the chief, and brought to Hossett his head, or some other decisive evidence that the deed was done."

The commandant was shocked at this severity of retribution, so far exceeding anything which he had desired, and told the savages that they had done very wrong; that they should only have arrested the chief and brought him to the fort. The commandant would simply have reprimanded him and forbidden him to repeat the offence.

The ignorant Indians of the tribe, whose chief had thus summarily, and, as they felt, unjustly been put to death, had all their savage instincts roused to intensity. They regarded the strangers at the fort as instigating the deed and responsible for it. They resolved upon bloody vengeance.

A party of warriors, thoroughly armed, came stealing through the glades of the forest and approached the unsuspecting fort. All the men were at work in the fields excepting one, who was left sick at home. There was also chained up in the fort, a powerful and faithful mastiff, of whom the Indians stood in great dread. Three of the savages, concealing, as far as they could, their weapons, approached the fort, under the pretence of bartering some beaver skins. They met Hossett, the commander, not far from the door. He entered the house with them, not having the slightest suspicion of their hostile intent. He ascended some steep stairs into the attic, where the stores for trade were deposited, and as he was coming down, one of the Indians, watching his opportunity, struck him dead with an axe. They then killed the sick man. Standing at a cautious distance, they shot twenty-five arrows into the chained mastiff till he sank motionless in death.

The colonists in the field, in the meantime, were entirely unaware of the awful scenes which were transpiring, and of their own impending peril. The wily Indians approached them, under the guise of friendship. Each party had its marked man. At a given signal, with the utmost ferocity they fell upon their victims. With arrows, tomahawks and war-clubs, the work was soon completed. Not a man escaped.