In less than an hour the dark forms of one hundred and eighty Indian warriors lay spread out upon the blood-crimsoned snow. And now the Dutch succeeded in applying the torch. The whole village, composed of the most combustible materials, was instantly in flames. The Indians lost all self-possession. They ran to and fro in a state of frenzy. As they endeavored to escape they were, with unerring aim, shot down, or driven back into their blazing huts. Thus over five hundred perished. Of all who crowded the little village at nightfall but eight escaped. Only eight of the Dutch were wounded; but not one fatally.
The conflagration of an hour laid the bark village in ashes. Nothing remained. The victors built large fires and bivouacked upon the snow. The next day they returned to Stamford, and two days afterward reached fort Amsterdam.
War is generally ruin to both parties. In this case neither of the combatants gained anything. Both parties alike reaped but a harvest of blood and woe. Scouting parties of the savages prowled beneath the very walls of fort Amsterdam, ready at a moment's warning, to dart into the wilderness, where even the bravest of the Dutch could not venture to pursue. For the protection of the few cattle which remained, all the men turned out and built a stout fence, "from the great bowery or farm across to Emanuel plantation," near the site of the present Wall street.
During the whole summer of 1644, the savages were busy carrying the desolating war into every unprotected nook and corner. The condition of the colony became desperate, being almost entirely destitute of food, money and clothing. The utter incompetency of Kieft was daily more conspicuous. He did nothing. "Scarce a foot was moved on land, or an oar laid in the water." The savages, thus left in security to fish and gather in their crops, were ever increasingly insolent and defiant. One of the annalists of those times writes:
"Parties of Indians roved about day and night, over
Manhattan island, killing the Dutch not a thousand paces
from fort Amsterdam. No one dared to move a foot to fetch a
stick of firewood without a strong escort."
Kieft, in his overwhelming embarrassments, had found it necessary to convene eight select men to advise him and to aid in supporting his authority. These select men decided to demand of the home government the recall of Kieft, whose incapacity had thus plunged the once-flourishing colony into utter ruin. They also urged the introduction into New Netherland of the municipal system of the fatherland.
In their brief but touching memorial they write,
"Our fields lie fallow and waste. Our dwellings are burned.
Not a handful can be sown this autumn on the deserted
places. The crops, which God permitted to come forth during
the summer, remain rotting in the fields. We have no means
to provide necessaries for wives or children. We sit here
amidst thousands of savages from whom we can find neither
peace nor mercy.
"There are those among us who, by the sweat and labor of
their hands, through many long years and at great expense,
have endeavored to improve their land. Others have come with
ships freighted with a large quantity of cattle. They have
cleared away the forest, enclosed their plantations, and
brought them under the plough, so as to be an ornament to
the country and a profit to the proprietors after their long
and laborious toil. The whole of these now lie in ashes
through a foolish hankering after war.
"All right-thinking men here know that these Indians have
lived as lambs among us until a few years ago, injuring no
man, offering every assistance to our nation, and when no
supplies were sent for several months, furnishing provisions
to the Company's servants until they received supplies.
These hath the Director, by several uncalled-for proceedings
from time to time, so estranged from us, and so embittered
against the Netherlands nation, that we do not believe that
anything will bring them and peace back, unless the Lord,
who bends all hearts to his will, propitiate their people.
"Little or nothing of any account has been done here for the
country. Every place is going to ruin. Neither counsel nor
advice is taken."
After giving an account of the origin and progress of the war, they warn the home government against relying upon the statements which the Director had sent over to them. "These statements," they said, "contain as many lies as lines." The memorial was concluded with the following forcible words:
"Honored Lords; this is what we have, in the sorrow of our
hearts, to complain of. We shall end here, and commit the
matter wholly to our God, praying that he will move your
lordships' minds, so that a Governor may be speedily sent to
us with a beloved peace, or that we may be permitted to
return with our wives and children, to our dear fatherland.
For it is impossible ever to settle this country until a
different system be introduced here, and a new Governor sent
out."