The Epic of New York City

by Edward Robb Ellis

  Company directors were outraged by the effrontery of the Nine Men in appealing to the government. They sneered at the petitioners, denied the need for reforms in the colony, and upheld Peter Stuyvesant in everything he had done. This was all the ammunition he needed. Seeking revenge on the upstart members of his advisory board, Stuyvesant began by insulting them. He forbade them to use their reserved pews in the Dutch Reformed Church and branded them publicly as promoters of “schisms, factions and intestine commotions.” Whenever a board member died or resigned, Stuyvesant refused to let his position be filled and so almost extinguished the board. But before the Nine Men vanished, they again appealed to the States General.

  This time the Dutch government cracked down on the company. Its directors realized now that they had better concede a few points or risk losing the colony. Therefore, in 1652 the firm ordered Stuyvesant to grant New Amsterdam a burgher system of government modeled after that of the free cities of Holland.

  The crisp evening of February 2, 1653, the birth of a new city was proclaimed. The ceremonies began with a parade down Broadway to the church within the fort. Old Peg Leg marched at the head of the procession, resplendent in his regimental coat studded with brass buttons from chin to waist. His coat skirts were turned back and separated to display his sulfur-hued breeches. His right hand held a long gold-headed cane, and his left hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

  The bell ringer carried rich pew cushions for the dignitaries to use in the church. These grave-faced gentlemen wore long-waisted coats with skirts reaching almost to the ankles, vests with large flaps, and multicolored breeches. Their coats and vests were trimmed with big silver buttons and decorated with lace. On nearby pews they placed their low-crowned beaver hats. When all were assembled and the coughs had been stifled, Stuyvesant rose to speak. With his proclamation that the city was being granted municipal government, the town elders nodded at one another and preened.

  Then Stuyvesant announced that he would appoint one schout, or sheriff; two burgomasters, or city magistrates; and five schepens, or aldermen. Appoint? Faces fell. In Holland these officials were elected by the people themselves. Slowly the townspeople realized that they had little cause for rejoicing. The governor went on to state that even after he had appointed these officials, his authority would not be diminished one whit. Often he would preside at their meetings, and always he would counsel them about matters of importance. Before Stuyvesant finished speaking, the congregation understood that the officials would function in name only. The people had begged for a loaf and been thrown a few crumbs.

  Four days later the newly appointed city fathers met for the first time. Eighteen days after this, City Tavern was officially proclaimed the first City Hall. Not until the spring of 1657, however, were burghers registered. Thus, for the first time in the city’s history, citizenship became an accomplished, legal fact.

  Although Stuyvesant felt that he had local matters firmly in hand, he worried about external affairs. New Netherland thrust like a wedge between New England, to the northeast, and the English colonies of Maryland and Virginia, to the southwest. This Dutch-held gap along the Atlantic seaboard made it difficult for the English government to enforce its commercial regulations in America. A few Englishmen from Maryland and Virginia filtered into Dutch territory, but it was mainly New Englanders who encroached on the land claimed by the Hollanders. English and Dutch traders vied for the fur trade. New Amsterdam’s tariffs were a source of irritation. For the Dutch West India Company, Stuyvesant claimed all the coast between the Delaware River and Cape Cod. The Dutch and English quarreled over ownership of the Connecticut Valley.

  Matters worsened. At last Stuyvesant offered to confer in Hartford, Connecticut, with commissioners of the United Colonies of New England, consisting of Massachusetts, Plymouth, Connecticut, and New Haven. Stuyvesant agreed to negotiate because he realized that the New Englanders outnumbered the New Netherlanders. Indeed he thought them fifty times more numerous, whereas the odds were actually sixteen to one. This margin still prevented Stuyvesant from engaging in power politics. Setting forth with attendants, he made the four-day trip from New Amsterdam to Hartford, where he was received courteously.

  Stuyvesant proposed that negotiations be conducted in writing since he didn’t speak English fluently and this procedure would ensure greater accuracy. His very first paper, though, raised a storm because it was datelined New Netherland. The New England delegates insisted that the name Connecticut be substituted. Peg Leg Peter apologized. He said that the paper had been drafted before he left New Amsterdam and then translated and copied by his English secretary en route to Hartford.

  The week-long conference ended in a stalemate. Finally, all agreed to submit the issues to four arbitrators, two for the English and two for the Dutch. Stuyvesant, who seems to have relied on his English subjects living on Long Island, appointed two of them—Thomas Willett and George Baxter. The four arbitrators came to a decision that was accepted by both parties to the dispute—the Treaty of Hartford of 1650. Six years later the Dutch government ratified the agreement. The English government never did. Although the treaty did not become legally binding, it served awhile as a method for both sides to get along.

  Long Island was divided between the Dutch and English, but not evenly. Stuyvesant sacrificed a great deal of real estate by allowing the English to win the larger eastern end of the island. When terms of the treaty were revealed to the Nine Men, they angrily declared he “had ceded away territory enough to found 50 colonies each four miles square.” They kept harping on this subject; whereupon Stuyvesant threatened to dissolve the body, then and there. Actually, he had been powerless against the English. The treaty, however, didn’t end all trouble with other colonies.

  Rhode Island, which did not belong to the New England confederation, started a little war of its own against the Dutch. Its soldiers were led by Captain John Underhill, the very Englishman who years earlier had saved New Amsterdam during the Indian war. Subsequently he had bought property at the site of Locust Valley, Long Island. Annoyed by Dutch discrimination against English settlers and provoked by Stuyvesant’s tyranny, Underhill had incited riots, for which he had twice been arrested by the Dutch. Seething with rage, he now set out with twenty men and took an unoccupied Dutch fort on the Connecticut River, thus ending Dutch sovereignty in New England.

  Besides intercolonial quarrels, Stuyvesant had to contend with overseas affairs that impinged on New Netherland. Oliver Cromwell seized England, and in 1651 the first British Navigation Act was passed. This forbade the importation of goods into England except in British ships or those of the country producing the merchandise. It was intended to prevent rival sea powers—especially Holland—from carrying goods to the American colonies. British sea captains searched and seized Dutch merchant ships. As a result, in 1652 war broke out between England and Holland. The next year the United Colonies of New England girded for war on New Netherland, charging that the Dutch had conspired with the Indians against the Connecticut colonies.

  Stuyvesant ordered his people to build a fortified wall in New Amsterdam along what is now Wall Street. This stretched 2,340 feet from the East River to the Hudson River. Along this line, stakes were hammered 3 feet into the ground, their exposed 9-foot lengths ending in sharp tips. Earth was packed along the inside of the wall for Dutch soldiers to stand on when they fired at an approaching enemy. A land gate was cut in the wall opposite the present Trinity Church, while a water gate toward the east gave access to the Brooklyn ferry. Cattle were driven out the land gate mornings and back in again at night.

  But no assault came. This was the result of a quarrel that developed among the United Colonies of New England. Massachusetts, with a larger population than the other three members combined, was called on to contribute the most men and money. It refused, for it lay at a greater distance from the Dutch than its colleagues. Besides, it didn’t really believe that the Dutch were inciting the Indians. Nevertheless, Oliver Crom
well dispatched a fleet from England to conquer what is now New York City. The expedition was supposed to be aided by the New Englanders. Before an attack could be mounted, however, peace between England and Holland was declared.

  New Netherland enjoyed comparatively greater religious freedom than church-ruled New England. Stuyvesant, however, was a religious bigot. From the time the first Dutch minister arrived to the very end of the Dutch occupation, not a single religious group other than the Dutch Reformed Church was allowed to put up a house of worship. Even so, in 1655 a Dutch pastor complained: “We have here Papists, Mennonites and Lutherans among the Dutch. Also many Puritans or Independents, and many atheists and various other servants of Baal among the English under this government, who conceal themselves under the name of Christians.”

  The first Catholic priest visited Manhattan in 1643. A French Jesuit, named Father Isaac Jogues, he did missionary work among the Indians of Canada and upper New York State. The first Irish Catholic layman who settled here was Hugh O’Neal. He married a Dutch widow the very year that Father Jogues paid the city a short visit. Apparently the Jesuit heard O’Neal’s confession. In 1646 Father Jogues was killed by Indians, and in 1930 he was canonized as a saint. It was, however, a long time before Catholics came to New York in large numbers.

  The first Jew to settle here was Jacob Barsimon; he arrived from Holland on July 8, 1654. The next month twenty-seven Jews landed after a long and exhausting voyage from Brazil. They were the descendants of Jews expelled from Spain and Portugal in 1492 by King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella. The original refugees had found a haven in Holland and then, after the Dutch took part of Brazil, had gone there to live. But in 1654 Recife, the last Dutch stronghold in Brazil, was captured by the Portuguese. Faced with persecution from the Inquisition, the twenty-seven remaining Jews fled to New Amsterdam. They left Brazil in such haste that they didn’t even collect debts due them, for on their arrival here the skipper of their ship auctioned off all their goods to pay for their passage.

  Soon more Jews arrived from Curaçao. Annoyed by their presence, Stuyvesant wrote the Dutch West India Company to beg that “none of the Jewish nation be permitted to infest New Netherland.” Company directors wrote him that the Jews had sustained a loss in the capture of Brazil, held shares in the company, and must therefore be allowed to settle in New Netherland, provided they took care of their own poor.

  Stuyvesant fumed but was powerless because no Jew became a welfare case. At first the only trade open to the Jews was that of slaughtering. Despite this, they prospered and began to play an active part in civic affairs. Before the end of Stuyvesant’s reign they were permitted to own property, engage in foreign and domestic trade on a wholesale basis, and enjoy burgher rights. They were barred from public office, however.

  The first Rosh Hashanah service in North America was held on September 12, 1654, when a group of Jewish men met secretly in New York City, probably in an attic or in a room behind a shop. This was the beginning of Congregation Shearith Israel (the Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue), the oldest existing Jewish congregation in North America. New York Jews held their first public service in 1673 on Beaver Street, in a rented room. By 1695 the Jews had their first synagogue, a house on Mill Street (now South William Street).

  In 1656 they acquired a plot for their first cemetery. No trace remains of this earliest Jewish burial ground in North America, but it may have been located a little north of Wall Street. In 1682 members of Congregation Shearith Israel established their second cemetery, a plot fifty-two feet long and fifty feet wide. Located south of Chatham Square, this burial ground is today a small triangle on St. James Place between James and Oliver streets.

  All in all, but in spite of Peter Stuyvesant, the Jews were treated better in New Amsterdam than in most American colonies. The prevailing attitude toward the Quakers was different—different and worse. A group of Quakers expelled from Boston arrived here by ship in August, 1657. Two of the women began preaching in the streets; whereupon Stuyvesant had them locked up inside the fort prison. After an examination they were ordered out of the city and colony and were placed on a ship bound for Rhode Island.

  Another Quaker, Robert Hodgson, made his way to Heemstede, or Hempstead, Long Island, where he intended to spread the word about the new Society of Friends. While strolling in an orchard, he was seized and led before a local magistrate, who took away his Bible and imprisoned him. For twenty-four hours he was tied in a painful position. The Hempstead magistrate also arrested two women who had sheltered Hodgson. One of them was nursing an infant. Word was sent to Stuyvesant that other Quakers had been captured. He ordered them brought to New Amsterdam.

  Hodgson was lashed facedown in a cart. The women were roped to the cart’s tail. In this fashion the three prisoners were conveyed over rough roads to the city and thrown into separate dungeons. After Hodgson had endured vermin and filth, and near starvation for several days, he was brought before Stuyvesant. The governor and council tried him, but the prisoner was not allowed to speak in his own defense. He was sentenced to be chained to a wheelbarrow and suffer hard labor for two years, unless he paid a $240 fine.

  The destitute Quaker was unable to pay. Stubbornly he declared that he had done no wrong, had broken no law, was unused to manual labor, and so would do no work. After he had finished speaking, he was stripped to the waist and beaten with a tarred rope until he sagged to the ground. Strong men stood him up again. Once more he was beaten. Blow after stinging blow rained on his back. Then, his flesh waffled with welts, he was left, still chained to the wheelbarrow, to lie under an autumn sun until he fainted.

  That night Hodgson was thrown back into his filthy dungeon. The second day he was flogged—and the third day. At last he was brought again before Stuyvesant, who commanded him to work or be lashed every day until he did. Boldly looking at his tormentor, Hodgson asked what law he had broken. The governor didn’t bother to answer. The Quaker cried that he never would submit to Stuyvesant’s will, so back to the dungeon he went, and for the next two or three days he was kept there without even bread or water. Still he refused to give in.

  Now began new torture. Hodgson was dragged to a room, where his mutilated skin was bared once again. He was suspended from the ceiling by his wrists, with a heavy log tied to his feet. In this taut position he was lashed again and again and again. Two days later the torture was repeated. Sobbing, Hodgson begged to see a fellow Englishman, and at last a poor Englishwoman was allowed to visit him. She bathed his wounds and wept in pity. Later she told her husband that she didn’t think the wretched fellow could live until morning. The husband went to the sheriff to offer him a fat ox to allow the prisoner to be removed to his own house until he recovered. This couldn’t be done, the sheriff said.

  By now, this torture having become common knowledge, people began muttering about their governor. Hodgson wasn’t the only Quaker persecuted in the colony just then, although he suffered the most. Dutch ministers, unlike most burghers, sided with Stuyvesant and wrote the Dutch West India Company of their alarm at the spread of sectarianism in New Netherland.

  Meanwhile, the governor’s sister, Mrs. Verlett, caught the note of public discontent, and her gentle soul winced at what he had done. She marched into Peter’s presence, tongue-lashed him for his cruelty, and denounced and upbraided him until at last Stuyvesant agreed to let the man go. Hodgson was freed, but he was banished from the colony.

  Other Quakers met secretly at Flushing, Long Island, in the homes of Henry Townsend and John Bowne. Both men were arrested. Stuyvesant’s action infuriated and saddened all the people of Flushing and nearby towns. After all, Flushing’s charter of 1645 declared the settlers were “to have and enjoy liberty of conscience, according to the custom and manner of Holland, without molestation or disturbance.” Obviously, the governor himself was the lawbreaker. On December 27, 1657, thirty-one Dutchmen and Englishmen drew up a protest addressed to Stuyvesant. Six of the thirty-one, being illiterate, merely made t
heir mark on the document; they were courageous men, willing to face the fiery governor along with the others.

  This Flushing Remonstrance has been called the first American Declaration of Independence. Among other things, it said:

  The law of love, peace and liberty in the states extending to Jews, Turks and Egyptians, as they are considered the sons of Adam, which is the glory of the outward states of Holland, so love, peace and liberty, extending to all in Christ Jesus, condemns hatred, war and bondage. And because our Saviour saith it is impossible but that offenses will come, but woe unto him by whom they cometh, our desire is not to offend one of his little ones in whatsoever form, name or title. . . .

  The Flushing sheriff traveled to New Amsterdam and handed the protest to Stuyvesant, who angrily banged his wooden leg and ordered the sheriff arrested. Then the governor cracked down on other Flushing officials. The town clerk was jailed for three weeks. Two justices of the peace were suspended from office. For a long time afterward no Long Island resident dared to shelter Quakers openly, but the sectarians continued to hold secret meetings in the Flushing woods. They managed to get news of their persecution to the Dutch West India Company in Holland, whose directors then ordered Stuyvesant to keep hands off the Quakers.