It will be remembered that some years before an Indian had been robbed and murdered near the pond, in the vicinity of the fort at Manhattan, and that his nephew, a boy, had escaped. That boy was now a man, and, through all these years, with almost religious scrupulousness, had been cherishing his sense of duty to avenge his uncle's unatoned death.
A very harmless Dutchman, by the name of Claes Smits, had reared his solitary hut upon the Indian trail near the East river. The nephew of the murdered savage came one day to this humble dwelling, and stopped under the pretence of selling some beaver skins. As Smits was stooping over the great chest in which he kept his goods, the savage, seizing an axe, killed him by a single blow. In doing this, he probably felt the joys of an approving conscience,—a conscience all uninstructed in religious truth—and thanked the great spirit that he had at length been enabled to discharge his duty in avenging his uncle's death.
Kieft sent to the chief of the tribe, demanding the murderer. The culprit Indian sent back the reply:
"When the fort was building some years ago, my uncle and I,
carrying some beaver skins to the fort to trade, were
attacked by some Dutchmen, who killed my uncle and stole the
furs. This happened when I was a small boy. I vowed to
revenge it upon the Dutch when I grew up. I saw no better
chance than this of Claes Smits."
The sachem refused to deliver up the criminal, saying that he had but done his duty, according to the custom of his race, in avenging the death of his kinsman, murdered many years before. Kieft was exceedingly embarrassed. He was very unpopular; was getting the colony deeper and deeper into difficulty, and was accused of seeking war with the Indians that he "might make a wrong reckoning with the Company."
In this emergency, that others might share the responsibility with him, he reluctantly sought the counsel of the community. Twelve "select men" were chosen to consider the propositions to be submitted to them by the Director. To them the question was propounded:
"Is it not just, that the murder lately committed by a
savage, upon Claes Smits, be avenged and punished? In case
the Indians will not surrender the murderer, is it not just
to destroy the whole village to which he belongs? In what
manner, when, and by whom ought this to be executed?"
The result of their deliberations was, in brief, as follows:
"Our harvest is still ungathered; our cattle are scattered
in the woods. Many of the inhabitants, unsuspicious of
danger, are at a distance. It is not best to precipitate
hostilities. In the meantime let two hundred coats of mail
be procured in preparation for the expedition. Let our
friendly intercourse with the savages be uninterrupted, to
throw them off their guard. When the hunting season
commences, let two armed bands be sent out to attack the
Indians from opposite directions. Let as many negroes as can
be spared, be sent on this expedition, each armed with
tomahawk and half-pike. Still let messengers be sent once,
twice and even a third time to solicit the surrender of the
murderer."
The Governor had the reputation of being an arrant coward. It had often been said, "It is very well for him to send us into the field, while he secures his own life in a good fort, out of which he has not slept a single night in all the years he has been here." They therefore shrewdly added, "The Governor himself ought to lead the van in this attack. We will follow his steps and obey his commands."