The close of the sixteenth century witnessed the overthrow of the Spanish power in the Netherlands, and, relieved from the oppression under which it had so long groaned, the Dutch republic was able, like the rest of the world, to turn its attention to that golden prize, the short passage to India, the supposed existence of which had instigated so many important expeditions from other countries. Already, long before their independence was acknowledged by the Spanish, the United Netherlands possessed a navy second to none in Europe, and, in the very year (1597) of the signing of the Treaty of Utrecht, the advanced guard of Dutch geographers were struggling for their lives in the dreary solitudes of Nova Zembla.
Leaving the adventures of Barentz, Heemskerk, and others, we join, as the first Dutchman to travel in the districts now under consideration, the celebrated Henry Hudson, who, after one or two unsuccessful voyages to the North-east, under the auspices of the English Muscovy Company, was invited, in 1609, to take service with the Dutch East India Company. He consented, and was appointed by his new employers to the command of yet another expedition to the extreme North, his instructions, however, being this time of a sufficiently elastic nature to admit of his altering his course if desirable.
Hudson set sail from Amsterdam on his new trip, on the 4th April, 1609, in a modest little vessel named the Half Moon, with a crew of some sixteen or eighteen Dutch and English sailors, and, having crossed the Atlantic in safety, he steered due north for Nova Zembla. Before long, the ice, as he had expected, effectually barred his progress, and, after a consultation with his men, he determined to alter his course, and seek for a south-west passage somewhere to the north of the English colony of Virginia. A flying visit for fresh water was then paid to the Faroe Islands, and, after touching at Newfoundland, the Half Moon sailed down the coast of North America, anchoring on the 18th July, in a large bay, probably that of Penobscot. Here a party of Indians, already used to peaceful trading with the French, came out in two canoes to make acquaintance with their visitors, and were met—to the shame of the Dutch be it spoken—by a boat-load of armed sailors, who took many of them prisoners, and afterward burned their village. This outrage completed, the Half Moon proceeded on her voyage, passing Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard, and even, it is supposed, entering Chesapeake Bay, though without holding any intercourse with the Europeans there established.
At Chesapeake Bay, Hudson once more turned his vessel’s head northward, and, cruising along the coast, discovered what was afterward, in honor of the first governor of Virginia, called Delaware Bay. No south-west passage had yet been found, but on the 3d August the watchers on deck saw what they took to be the mouth of three rivers, and which turned out to be the beautiful harbor now forming the entrance to the capital of the New World.
Foiled in his attempt to enter the broadest of the three “rivers” by the bar at its mouth, Hudson ordered the Half Moon to be steered into the deeper bay, now known as Sandy Hook, and there passed the night in anxious expectation as to what the morning would bring to light. That morning dawned on a scene of exquisite, and still, in spite of its changed aspect, of world-famous beauty. The island of Manhattan, Long Island, the Narrows, and many another familiar physical feature of the Bay of New York, were there; but instead of the bristling fortifications and the well-built residences of wealthy citizens of New York of the present day, the shores of mainland and islands were dotted with native wigwams—instead of the fiery little gunboats and stately men-of-war now guarding the entrance to the great metropolis, the canoes of Indians were shooting hither and thither, in undisguised astonishment at the sudden apparition of the Half Moon.
A quarrel with the Indians inaugurated the first day’s work at the mouth of the Hudson, as it had done that on the Penobscot; but the death of one Englishman, a certain John Colman, was in this case the only untoward result. The whole of the shores of the Bay of New York were thoroughly explored, and the great river itself, named after its discoverer, was then entered.
Past the low shores of Manhattan Island, and into the vast expanses of the Tappan Zee and Haverstroo, sailed the Half Moon, entering beyond them the lovely scenery of the Highlands, which rise abruptly to a height of some 1,200 to 1,600 feet on either side of the broad waters of the Hudson, until at last the mighty Catskill Mountains, stretching away in silent grandeur on the right bank of the river near its junction with the Mohawk, were sighted, and navigation became difficult, the stream daily growing shallower and shallower.
THE HALF MOON AT THE MOUTH OF THE HUDSON.
On the 18th August, 1609, Hudson landed near the site of a town now bearing his name, where he was most hospitably entertained by an old chieftain. On the 19th he passed the site of the present Albany, and on the 22d he came to the rocky promontory close to which the modern village of Half Moon now stands, at which point he decided to retrace his steps, the river being apparently too shallow for further navigation.