For a time the war which had desolated the region of the lower valley of the Hudson, did not reach fort Nassau, now Albany. The tribes resident there were at war with the lower river tribes. As these Indians still maintained apparently friendly relations with the whites, the patroon, Van Rensselaer, allowed his agents freely to sell to them fire arms and powder.
This distant and feeble post at this time consisted only of a wretched little fort built of logs, with eight or ten small cannon or swivels.
A hamlet of about thirty huts was scattered along the river. A church, thirty-four feet long by nineteen wide, had been erected in a pine grove within range of the guns of the fort. Nine benches accommodated the congregation. A very faithful pastor, Domine Megapolensis, ministered to them.
The red men were often attracted to the church to hear the preached gospel, and wondered what it meant. Megapolensis writes:
"When we have a sermon sometimes ten or twelve of the
Indians will attend, each having in his mouth a long tobacco
pipe made by himself, and will stand awhile and look.
Afterwards they will ask me what I was doing, and what I
wanted, that I stood there alone and made so many words and
none of the rest might speak.
"I tell them that I admonish the Christians that they must
not steal or drink, or commit murder, or do anything wrong,
and that I intend, after a while, to come and preach to them
when I am acquainted with their language. They say that I do
well in teaching the christians, but immediately add, 'Why
do so many christians do these things?'"
This was several years before John Eliot commenced preaching the gospel to the Indians near Boston. Kieft very earnestly applied to the English colony at New Haven for assistance against the Indians. The proposal was submitted to the General Court. After mature deliberation, it was decided that the Articles of Confederation between the New England colonies prohibited them from engaging separately in war; and that moreover "they were not satisfied that the Dutch war with the Indians was just."
The Dutch Director, thus disappointed in obtaining assistance from the English, was roused to the energies of desperation. The spirit of the people also rose to meet the emergency. It was determined to commence the most vigorous offensive measures against the savages.
We have not space to enter into the details of this dreadful war. We will record one of its sanguinary scenes, as illustrative of many others. The Connecticut Indians, in the vicinity of Greenwich, had joined the allied tribes, and were becoming increasingly active in their hostility. Ensign Van Dyck was dispatched with one hundred and fifty men in three vessels. The expedition landed at Greenwich. The Indian warriors, over five hundred in number, were assembled in a strongly palisaded village in the vicinity of Stamford.
It was midnight in February, 1644, when the expedition approached the Indian village. All the day long the men had toiled through the snow. It was a wintry night, clear and cold, with a full moon whose rays, reflected by the dazzling surface of hill and valley, were so brilliant that "many winter days were not brighter."
The Dutch, discharging a volley of bullets upon the doomed village, charged, sword in hand. The savages, emboldened by their superior numbers, made a desperate resistance. But in a conflict like this, arrows are comparatively powerless when opposed to muskets. The Indians, unable to reach their foes with their arrows, made several very bold sallies, recklessly endeavoring to break the Dutch lines. They were invariably driven back with great loss. Not one of them could show himself outside the palisades without being shot down.