With much dignity Governor Stuyvesant vindicated himself. "I offered," he said,
"to leave fort Christina in your possession, but you refused
it. I am not responsible for any property for which I have
not given a receipt. On account of your high station, I
offered more than once to entertain you in my own house. As
this did not satisfy you, you were induced to reside in one
of the principal houses of the city. There you indulged in
unmannerly threats that you would return and destroy this
place. This so annoyed the people of the house that, for
peace sake, they abandoned their lodgings.
"The rumors of these threats reached the ears of the
captains of the small vessels, and the passengers with whom
you were to embark. They did not deem it safe to take you
and your suite, with such a large number of dependents. They
feared to land you in England or France, unless they should
chance to meet some English or French vessel in the Channel.
We entered into no obligation to defray your expenses or
those of your unusual suite."
Soon after this Governor Rising and his attendants were embarked for Europe in two vessels. A narrative was, at the same time, sent to the fatherland of the recent Indian troubles. The defenceless condition of the country was explained and assistance earnestly implored.
There were still a number of captives held by the Indian tribes who dwelt among the Highlands. The question was anxiously deliberated, in the Council, respecting the best mode of recovering them. One only, Van Tienhoven, was in favor of war. But Governor Stuyvesant said,
"The recent war is to be attributed to the rashness of a few
hot-headed individuals. It becomes us to reform ourselves,
to abstain from all that is wrong, and to protect our
villages with proper defences. Let us build block-houses
wherever they are needed and not permit any armed Indian to
enter the European settlements."
The Long Island Indians sent a delegation to New Amsterdam declaring that for ten years, since 1645, they had been the friends of the Dutch, and had done them no harm, "not even to the value of a dog." They sent, as a present, a bundle of wampum in token of the friendship of the chiefs of the Eastern tribes. But the up-river Indians continued sullen. With their customary cunning or sagacity they retained quite a number of captives, holding them as pledges to secure themselves from the vengeance of the Dutch. There was no hope of liberating them by war, since the Indians would never deliver up a white captive in exchange for prisoners of their own tribes. And upon the first outbreak of war the unfortunate Dutch prisoners would be conveyed to inaccessible depths of the forests.
The Dutch settlers had scattered widely, on farms and plantations. Thus they were peculiarly exposed to attacks from the Indians, and could render each other but little assistance. As a remedy for this evil, Governor Stuyvesant issued a proclamation ordering all who lived in secluded places in the country to assemble and unite themselves in villages before the ensuing spring, "after the fashion," as he said, "of our New England neighbors."
In Sweden, before the tidings of the fall of fort Casimir had reached that country, an expedition had been fitted out for the South river, conveying one hundred and thirty emigrants. Stuyvesant, on learning of their arrival, forbade them to land. He dispatched a vessel and a land force, to capture the Swedish ship the Mercury, and bring it with all the passengers to fort Amsterdam. Having disposed of her cargo, the vessel and all the Swedish soldiers it bore, were sent back to Europe.
In obedience to orders from home, Stuyvesant erected a fort at Oyster Bay, on the north side of Long island. In the instructions he received he was enjoined, "to maintain, by force, if necessary, the integrity of the Dutch province, the boundaries of which have just been formally confirmed by the States-General."
The Directors added,