The Governor regretted having called
together the twelve men. But he soon got rid of them, and to show that
he was still absolute ruler, he decided to make war upon the Indians.
Then the war-cloud broke.
Those Indians who lived nearest New Amsterdam were fighting with another
tribe called the Mohawks. The nearby Indians thought that since Kieft
had been paid to protect them, he should do so now. So they gathered,
some on the Island of Manhattan, and some on the nearby shore of New
Jersey. But instead of protecting them, Kieft sent his soldiers against
these friendly Indians, and in the night killed them as they slept. The
soldiers came so suddenly upon the Indians, sleeping peacefully on the
Jersey shore, and slew them so quickly in the darkness, that the Indians
believed they had been attacked by the unfriendly tribe. One Indian,
with his squaw, made his way to the fort. He was met at the gate by De
Vries. "Save us," he cried, "the Mohawks have fallen upon us, and have
killed all our people." But De Vries answered, sadly, "No Indian has
done this. It is the Dutch who have killed your people." And he pointed
toward the deep woods close by. "Go there for safety, but do not come
here."
This was not war.
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