"I sat up that night," writes DeVrees,
"by the kitchen fire at the Director's. About midnight,
hearing loud shrieks, I ran up to the ramparts of the fort.
Looking towards Pavonia, I saw nothing but shooting, and
heard nothing but the shrieks of Indians murdered in their
sleep."
With the dawn of the morning the victorious Dutch returned from their scene of slaughter, bearing with them about thirty prisoners, and the heads instead of the scalps of many warriors. Kieft welcomed these blood-stained men with "shaking of hands and congratulations." The tidings of this outrage spread far and wide among the Indian tribes in the valley of the Hudson and on the Long Island shore.
Private enterprise, relying upon the protection of Kieft, had sent out a foraging expedition upon Long Island. Kieft assumed that he saw signs of hostility there. The unsuspecting savages were plundered of two wagon loads of grain. These Indians, who had thus far been the warmest friends of the Dutch, were now justly roused to the highest pitch of indignation. They immediately made common cause with the river tribes, who were almost frenzied with the desire to avenge the midnight massacres of Pavonia and Manhattan. The storm which thus burst upon New Netherland was sudden and awful. The savages, in their rage, developed energy and power totally unanticipated.
Eleven tribes combined in the most furious and merciless attacks upon the lonely farm-houses. Everywhere the war-whoop resounded, and the plumed and painted savages emerged from swamps and thickets, and assailed every unprotected dwelling. The farmer was shot in the field, his dwelling burned, and his wife and children were thrown into the flames. Many women and children, their lives being spared, were carried into captivity worse than death. Houses, haystacks and granaries were fired. Cattle were slain or driven off, and crops destroyed.
Terror held high carnival. From the banks of the Raritan to the valley of the Housatonic, over a region of hundreds of square miles, not a plantation was safe. Men, women and children, haggard with hunger, exposure and woe, fled from their deserted homes to fort Amsterdam. Despairing of ever again finding peaceful residence in this new world, with one voice they demanded a return to the fatherland. The Dutch colonies were threatened with immediate and entire depopulation.
Kieft himself was terrified in view of the frightful storm he had raised. He was compelled to enlist every able-bodied man as a soldier. There was an end to all traffic, to all agriculture, to all the arts of industry. Even the plantation of the humane DeVrees did not escape the undiscriminating wrath of the savages. The outhouses, cattle and crops were utterly destroyed. Quite a number of the terrified colonists had taken refuge in the manor house which DeVrees had prudently built very strong, and constructed with loopholes for musketry.
The Indians were besieging the place, when one of their tribe came, whom DeVrees had assisted to escape from the massacre at Manhattan. He told the story of his escape and said that DeVrees was a good chief whom they ought to respect. The Indians held a short consultation, and then the grateful savages deputed one of their number to advance within speaking distance of the manor house. This man, whom we call a savage, cried out:
"We are very sorry that we have destroyed the outhouses, the
cattle and the crops. We now know that chief DeVrees is a
good chief and our friend. If we had not destroyed his
property we would not do so. We will not harm the brewery,
though we all greatly need the copper kettle to make barbs
for our arrows."
These noble red men, for we must think they exhibited a noble spirit, then departed. DeVrees was, at the time, in the manor house. He hastened down the river to fort Amsterdam and indignantly addressing the governor, said: "Has it not happened just as I foretold, that you are only helping to shed Christian blood? Who will now compensate us for our losses?"