WHO can divine what wisdom brooded over the College of the Nineteen Directors of the Company, when they chose Van Twiller's successor, William Kieft? Though with more abilities and experience, while possibly less foolish, Kieft was scarcely fitted to be either a statesman or a first-class business man. Very probably it was in the reaction against too much patroonism that such a man was appointed. It is probable, also, that in political influence with the States-General, rather than in special favor with the Company, lay the secret of Kieft's selection. Wishing to avoid war with England until the Spaniards were overcome, especially since the fortunes of the West India Company were declining, the Dutch National Congress made direct choice of this man who promised great reforms. It is certain that dark stories were told of his previous misbehavior in France and Turkey, before reaching America, and that from the first he as surely boasted of his power as it seems he intended to misuse it.
Kieft took the oath of office, which he was to break in manifold ways, and sailed on the ship Herring. To avoid the terrible Hatteras and Jersey coast storms, he spent the winter at the Bermudas, and arrived at Manhattan, March 28, 1638.
He took hold of things with the energy of an absolute ruler and with the effect of a new broom. He hoped to remedy all disorders and defects by proclamations. He erected and set in operation a brewery and made good beer, — then the daily drink of Europe; for tea, coffee, cocoa, and hot drinks were not yet. The first in the United States territory, this brewery made profits. Yet Kieft would allow no taprooms open during divine service, or after one o’clock A. M. Then "tap-toe" (in our language, "tattoo" or "taps," and now a military signal for bedtime) sounded. He refused to have firearms sold to the Indians. He had the curfew rung at nine P. M. He planted orchards and gardens and opened two annual cattle fairs. He built a hotel at the corner of Pearl Street and Coenties Slip. He put the Company's farms in such good condition that the better class of native Dutch colonists began to come over from Patria in larger numbers.
Yet his first official act showed him to be a tyrant, and he never reformed. His method was farcical. His idea of duty was to do as he pleased. He wrote, "I am my own master, for I have my commission, not from the Company, but from the Slates-General." He appointed the Huguenot physician, Johannes la Montagne, his sole councilor, giving one vote to the doctor and having two votes for himself. The affairs of the province were administered by these two men, aided also by the secretary and the schout.
Domine Bogardus was not afraid of Kieft. It was a good thing for the colony that he was not, and that there was a man of influence brave enough to oppose high-handed folly. No newspapers or ballot boxes being in operation to improve the government, the pulpit was almost the only place in which the best organ of public opinion could restrain the Director-General.
Kieft, stimulated by Captain de Vries, did something towards improving morals and religion, but his self-conceit came near spoiling his good intentions. However, after a popular subscription, a new church edifice was reared, wherein Domine Bogardus held forth for five years longer. Yet the preacher would not truckle to the Director, or approve his wicked doings. When Kieft began his wholly unjustifiable and bloody Indian war, Bogardus denounced him from the pulpit, taking the part of the people against their bad ruler, and demanding an appeal for justice to Patria. This Kieft would not allow. He even made a counter charge against the Domine, of being too fond of wine and of taking part with the malcontents. Then, instead of attending divine worship, Kieft stayed away and ordered drums to be beaten and cannon to be fired, making things as uncomfortable for the worshipers as possible. Thus the teapot tempest was kept up.
Under Kieft's administration, the southern part of New Netherland was nearly ruined in war with the Indians in the tide-water region. Several causes may be stated for this terrible but utterly needless calamity. In the first place, there was undying hatred between the Iroquois and the Algonquins, and it was not always easy for the Dutch to prevent getting mixed up in forest politics or to keep out of the red men's quarrels. Again, the divided territory and jurisdiction — of the Patroon at Rensselaerwijk and of the Director at Manhattan — made serious trouble because the Iroquois could freely buy guns and powder in the north, while these munitions of war were forbidden to the Algonquins in the south. The bloodshed which followed the quarrels arising through misunderstandings of language and customs, between white man and red, boded dire evil to all the colonists.
When, for example, some pigs were stolen from Staten Island by some of "John Company's" servants, the blame was laid on the Raritan Indians, who lived twenty miles inland. Thereupon Kieft sent a party of soldiers among them who killed several, plundered their houses, and destroyed their crops. The savages, unable to understand such treatment, were at once changed from friendly neighbors into sullen enemies, secretly sworn to revenge. When clouds of danger were seen arising, Kieft began to repair the fort. This gave him a pretext for going further in his career of tyranny. In order to raise revenue for this extra expense, he laid a tax upon the River Indians. This was flying in the face of all Dutch precedent aril principle in the Fatherland. "No taxation without consent" was a maxim as old as the abolition of feudalism.
At this trick, the Indians were surprised and angry; but when the Raritans proceeded to discharge their debts of vengeance by descending on Staten Island and killing four colonists and burning their grain and tobacco, Kieft set one tribe against the other. He offered the North River Indians a bounty of ten fathoms of wampum for every Raritan’s head. This started intestine war among the savages, in which Pacham, a wily sachem at Haverstraw, led off. Among the striking autumn novelties at Manhattan was the sight of this chief marching down Broadway with a dead man’s hand hanging to a stick. It had belonged to the Raritan chief. Presenting this token of bloody service to the Director, he claimed his reward.
Twenty years before, under Van Twiller's administration, some rascally Dutchman, unknown to the authorities, had wantonly killed a savage, whose nephew, an Indian boy, who witnessed the murder, vowed to be revenged for the death of his kinsman. The young brave nourished his wrath for years, and when grown up, all white men being alike to him, he entered the shop of Claes Smits, a wheelwright, and smote him dead with an axe. When Kieft demanded satisfaction of the sachem, he received a history of the case, but no more. He sent soldiers, but they failed to arrest the assassin.
By this time Kieft's folly in taxing Indians and opening a market for heads and scalps had disgusted every one, but, like a true poltroon, he himself kept out of personal danger. Men openly twitted him with sleeping in the fort and sending others to risk their lives on his abominable errands. Portents of war were every day growing more threatening, yet the people had no share in the government, as in the Fatherland, while they had to suffer from the Director's folly. So, to save his own skin, Kieft called together the heads of families on Manhattan Island for deliberation and advice before going to war. These at once chose "Twelve Select Men," all Hollanders, and de Vries was made president. Their counsel was promptly given against war, while they stoutly called for reforms at home. Only after long argument, and the Director’s consenting to head the expedition in person, did hostilities begin, and then under limits and conditions imposed by the Twelve Men.
The first expedition, under Ensign van Dyck, who is the ancestor of many notable and noble men still living, was a failure, but the Indians wore alarmed and sued for peace. A treaty was made at the home, of Jonas Bronk, from whose name Bronxville and the Borough of the Bronx take theirs.
Peace was of short duration. The story of the war that broke out again is a long one, and has been often told. The Iroquois from the north attacked the Mohicans in the lower Hudson valley, driving them across the river like sheep before wolves. Those who survived Mohawk bullets and tomahawks were slaughtered by Dutch soldiers sent by Kieft at Pavonia and Corlaer's Hook. Then fifty Englishmen were enrolled anal led by Captain John Underhill. In February, 1614, these attacked and burned an Indian town in Connecticut with frightful slaughter. The men who were opposed to Kieft's policy, and who throughout pleaded for justice to the Indians, were de Vries and Jacobus van Curler.
Kieft had failed to saddle the responsibility of war on the Twelve Men, and dissolved the Assembly. For a time the people were denied the rights of the Fatherland and left as political exiles. They suffered that for which their fathers took up arms against the Spaniards, — "taxation without consent." Nothing could be more diametrically opposed to Dutch political genius and long-established custom in the Netherlands than Kieft’s procedure. Taxation, only as voted by those who were to pay the taxes, was the established Dutch principle, to which Kieft was a traitor. Under pressure, the Governor again called a popular Assembly of the Eight Men, for consultation.
When, in order to pay the English soldiers, Kieft proposed a new excise to be laid on liquors and beaver, the Eight Men opposed him, and demanded that the Company attend to the defense of the colony. Taking a bold step, they petitioned the West India Company to recall Kieft. During five years there had hardly been as many months of peace. Their petition was heard, and Kieft was ordered home.
Like the cow of the Dutch proverb that kicks over the bucket of milk she produces, Kieft spoiled the good results of his earlier energy and enterprise by dealing the colony a blow from which it did not recover until after 1664. Under him, during the Indian wars, the population of New Netherland was reduced over half. What he did of evil was wholly against the wish and will of the people. Between "John Company" and William Kieft, a foolish corporation and their foolish servant, the people of lower New Netherland were nearly crushed.
As there were two distinct Indian domains, on the plateau and in the tide-water region, Iroquois and Algonquin, so in New Netherland there were two different Dutch policies in dealing with the natives, according as the white man's principles were incarnated in Arendt van Curler or William Kieft. In the north was an almost unbroken peace founded on mutual respect and justice. In the south were turmoil, bloodshed, waste, amt devastation, the fruit of hatred and unrighteousness.
The Company now elected a military man as Director-General, whose commission on its behalf was signed by the Jonkheer Alexander van der Capellen, ancestor of our friend Derck during the Revolution. In the Princess, one of the squadron of four ships, Stuyvesant, the man destined to live up to his name and stir up things, embarked for Manhattan.
In August, 1647, the returning ship Princess, which bore both Domine Bogardus and Director Kieft, sailed for Patria, but was wrecked off the coast of Wales, and both notorieties were drowned. Happily, to cleanse the stain of his life, Kieft in his last words confessed that he had done wrong, and requested to be forgiven. Only twenty of the passengers or crew were saved. Kieft’s two accusers, Melyn and Kuyter, were rescued, one of them, like Caesar, saving his manuscript, in his teeth as it were, for he at once set about recovering from the waves the box containing the papers of accusation, and he found them. In the States-General these representatives of New Netherland presented the case of the people so well that we shall find them, at the psychological moment, rising in behalf of the people in judgment against Peter Stuyvesant, the implacable hater of popular free institutions.