Peter Stuyvesant, the Last Dutch Governor of New Amsterdam. John S. C. Abbott
the Narrows, and anchored in the still and silent waters of New York harbor. These waters had never then been whitened by a sail, or ploughed by any craft larger than the Indian's birch canoe. The next morning, the 12th of September, Sir Henry again spread his sails, and commenced his memorable voyage up the solitary river, which has subsequently borne his name. Only here and there could a few wigwams be seen, scattered through the forest, which fringed its banks. But human life was there, then as now, with the joys of the bridal and the grief of the burial. When we contemplate the million of people, now crowded around the mouth of the Hudson, convulsively struggling in all the stern conflicts of this tumultuous life, it may be doubted whether there were not as much real happiness in the wigwam of the Indian as is now to be found in the gorgeous palace of the modern millionaire. And when we contemplate the vices and the crimes which civilization has developed, it may also be doubted whether, there were not as much virtue, comparatively with the numbers to be found, within the bark hut of the red man, as is now to be found in the abodes of the more boastful white man.
Sir Henry Hudson hoped to find this majestic river, inviting him into unknown regions of the north, to be an arm of the sea through which he could cross the continent to the shores of the Pacific. It was not then known whether this continent were a few miles or thousands of miles in breadth. For the first two days the wind was contrary, and the Half Moon ascended the river but about two miles. The still friendly natives paddled out from the shores, in their bark canoes in great numbers, coming on board entirely unarmed and offering for sale, excellent oysters and vegetables in great abundance.
On the third day a strong breeze sprang up from the southeast. All sail was set upon the Half Moon. It was a bright and beautiful autumnal day. Through enchanting scenery the little vessel ploughed the waves of the unknown river, till, having accomplished forty miles, just at sunset they dropped their anchor in the still waters which are surrounded by the grand and gloomy cliffs of the Highlands.
The next morning, the river and its shores, were enveloped in a dense fog, so that one could see but a few yards before him. Taking advantage of this, the Indian captives, whom Sir Henry Hudson had so treacherously ensnared, leaped out of one of the port-holes, and swam ashore. As soon as they reached the land, they raised loud shouts of hatred and defiance.
The sun soon dispelled the fog, and the voyage was continued, and by night the Half Moon reached a point supposed to be near the present site of Catskill Landing. The natives were numerous, and very friendly. They came freely on board, apparently unsuspicious of danger. It was noticeable that there were many very aged men among them. The river seemed full of fishes, and with their hooks they took large numbers. The next day the Indians came on board in crowds, bringing pumpkins and tobacco. The vessel's boats were sent on shore to procure fresh water.
Early the ensuing morning, they pushed up the river five miles, to a point probably near the present city of Hudson.
Sir Henry Hudson does not appear to advantage in the account transmitted to us of this exploration. Mr. Sparks, in his American Biography, gives the following extraordinary account of one of his procedures.
"It is evident that great distrust was entertained by Hudson
and his men towards the natives. He now determined to
ascertain, by intoxicating some of the chiefs, and thus
throwing them off their guard, whether they were plotting
any treachery. He accordingly invited several of them into
the cabin, and gave them plenty of brandy to drink. One of
these men had his wife with him, who, the Journal informs
us, 'sate so modestly as any of our countrywomen would do in
a strange place.' But the men had less delicacy and were
soon quite merry with the brandy.
"One of them, who had been on board from the first arrival
of the ship, was completely intoxicated, and fell sound
asleep, to the great astonishment of his companions, who
probably feared that he had been poisoned; for they all took
to their canoes and made for the shore, leaving their
unlucky comrade on board. Their anxiety for his welfare soon
induced them to return; and they brought a quantity of
beads, which they gave him, perhaps to enable him to
purchase his freedom from the spell which had been laid upon
him.
"The poor savage slept quietly all night, and when his
friends came to visit him the next morning they found him
quite well. This restored their confidence, so that they
came to the ship again in crowds, in the afternoon, bringing
various presents for Hudson. Their visit which was one of
unusual ceremony is thus described in the Journal:
"'So at three of the clock in the afternoon, they came
aboard and brought tobacco and more beads, and gave them to
our master, and made an oration and showed him all the
country round about. Then they sent one of their company on
land, who presently returned; and brought a great platter
full of venison, dressed by themselves, and they caused him
to eat with them. Then they made him reverence and departed,
all save the old man that lay aboard.'"
It was now manifest that no northwest passage to the Indies could be found in this direction, and it was not deemed expedient to attempt to ascend the river any farther in the ship. The mate, however was sent with a boat's crew, to explore the river some distance higher up. It is supposed that the boat ascended several miles above the present site of the city of Albany, Hudson probably going a little beyond where the town of Waterford now is. Upon the return of the boat, the mate having reported that it was useless to attempt any farther ascent of the river with the ship, Sir Henry commenced his return.
Carefully descending the winding channel of the stream, he was so unfortunate as to run the ship on a mud bank, in the middle of the river nearly opposite the present city of Hudson. Without much difficulty the vessel was again floated, having received no injury. But contrary winds detained him upon the spot two days. In the meantime several boat parties visited the banks on both sides of the stream. They were also visited by many of the natives who were unremitting in their kindness.
A fair wind soon springing up they ran down the river eighteen miles, passing quite a large Indian village where Catskill now stands, and cast anchor in deep water, near Red Hook. Baffled by opposing winds and calms, they slowly worked their way down the stream, the next two days, to near the present point of Castleton. Here a venerable old man, the chief of a small tribe, or rather patriarchal family of forty men and seventeen women, came on board in his birch canoe. He gave Sir Henry a very cordial invitation to visit his little settlement of wigwams, picturesquely nestled upon the banks of the river. Distance lends enchantment to the view. The little hamlet in a sheltered cove where fertile meadows were spread out, was surrounded by fields waving with the harvest. From the deck of the ship the scene presented was one of peace, prosperity and happiness. The smoke ascended gracefully from the wigwam fires, children were sporting upon the beach, and birch canoes, almost as light as bubbles, were being rapidly paddled over the glassy waves.
The good old chief took the English captain ashore and led him into his palace. It was a very humble edifice, constructed of bark so carefully overlapped as effectually to exclude both wind and rain. It was from thirty to forty feet long and eighteen feet wide. There was a door at each end, and ample light was admitted by an opening extending along the whole length, through which the smoke of the fires could escape. The interior was finished with great care, and very smoothly. Under certain states of the atmosphere and of the wind the smoke freely ascended,