Chapter XII: Part 12

_25th, Thursday._ We had thought of riding a little further on, and so back to Albany; but my comrade was too sick, and had the chills and fever again. The weather, too, was windy and rainy. We concluded therefore to postpone it till the following day; and in the meantime I accompanied Sanders to the before mentioned Adam's. While we were there, a certain Indian woman, or half-breed, that is, from a European and an Indian woman, came with a little boy, her child, who was dumb, or whose tongue had grown fast. It was about four years old; she had heard we were there, and came to ask whether we knew of any advice for her child, or whether we could not do a little something to cure it. We informed her we were not doctors or surgeons, but we gave her our opinion, just as we thought.[338] Sanders told me aside that she was a Christian, that is, had left the Indians, and had been taught by the Christians and baptized; that she had made profession of the reformed religion, and was not of the unjust. Not contenting myself with this account, and observing something in her that pleased me, I asked her to relate to me herself how it had gone with her from the first of her coming to Christendom, both outwardly and inwardly. Looking at me she said, "How glad am I that I am so fortunate; that God should permit me to behold such Christians, whom I have so long desired to see, and to whom I may speak from the bottom of my heart without fear; and that there are such Christians in the world. How often have I asked myself, are there no other Christians than those amongst whom we live, who are so godless and lead worse lives than the Indians, and yet have such a pure and holy religion? Now I see God thinks of us, and has sent you from the other end of the world to speak to us." She had heard me give reasons to the others, and address them generally, before I made this request of her. I answered, that all who professed the Christian religion did not live as that religion required, that such were false professors, and not Christians, bearing the name only, but denying the truth. She had said all this with a tender and affectionate heart, and with many tears, but tears which you felt proceeded from the heart, and from love towards God. I was surprised to find so far in the woods, and among Indians--but why say among Indians? among Christians ten times worse than Indians--a person who should address me with such affection and love of God; but I answered and comforted her. She then related to me from the beginning her case, that is, how she had embraced Christianity. She was born of a Christian father and an Indian mother, of the Mohawk tribes. Her mother remained in the country, and lived among the Mohawks, and she lived with her, the same as Indians live together. Her mother would never listen to anything about the Christians, or it was against her heart, from an inward, unfounded hate. She lived then with her mother and brothers and sisters; but sometimes she went with her mother among the Christians to trade and make purchases, or the Christians came among them, and thus it was that some Christians took a fancy to the girl, discovering in her more resemblance to the Christians than the Indians, but understand, more like the Dutch, and that she was not so wild as the other children. They therefore wished to take the girl and bring her up, which the mother would not hear to, and as this request was made repeatedly, she said she would rather kill her. The little daughter herself had no disposition at first to go; and the mother did nothing more with the daughter than express continually her detestation and abhorrence of the Christians. This happened several times, when the daughter began to mistrust that the Christians were not such as the mother told her; the more so, because she never went among them without being well treated, and obtaining something or other. She therefore began to hearken to them; but particularly she felt a great inclination and love in her heart towards those Christians who spoke to her about God, and of Christ Jesus and the Christian religion. Her mother observed it, and began to hate her and not treat her as well as she had done before. Her brothers and sisters despised and cursed her, threw stones at her, and did her all the wrong they could; but the more they abused and maltreated her, the more she felt something growing in her that attracted and impelled her towards the Christians and their doctrine, until her mother and the others could endure her no longer; while she, feeling her love of the Christians, and especially of their religion, which she called their doctrine, to increase more and more, could no longer live with the Indians. They ceased not seeking to wrong her, and compelled her to leave them, as she did, and went to those who had so long solicited her. They gave her the name of Eltie or Illetie.[339] She lived a long time with a woman, with whom we conversed afterwards, who taught her to read and write and do various handiwork, in which she advanced so greatly that everybody was astonished. She had especially a great desire to learn to read, and applied herself to that end day and night, and asked others, who were near her, to the vexation and annoyance of the other maids, who lived with her, who could sometimes with difficulty keep her back. But that did not restrain her; she felt such an eagerness and desire to learn that she could not be withheld, particularly when she began to understand the Dutch language, and what was expressed in the New Testament, where her whole heart was. In a short time, therefore, she understood more about it than the other girls with whom she conversed, and who had first instructed her, and, particularly, was sensible in her heart of its truth. She had lived with different people, and had very much improved; she spoke of it with heart-felt delight. Finally, she made her profession, and was baptized.[340] Since that time, she said, the love she felt in her heart had not diminished, but had increased, and she sighed to live near Christians, who were good and faithful, and lived up to their religion. Therefore it was that she was so glad to see us, and that God, who had so loved her before, still so loved her as to permit her to see and speak to us, "_me_," she said, "who have been such a heathen." I told her that God had showed her still more love, as she well knew. She believed it, she said, melting into tears, but she could not express her heart. "Might I only live with such people, how would my heart do good." "Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be satisfied," I repeated to her, and further expressed what was necessary. "How many times," said she, "have I grieved over these Christians, not daring to speak out my heart to any one, for when I would sometimes rebuke them a little for their evil lives, drunkenness, and foul and godless language, they would immediately say: 'Well, how is this, there is a sow converted. Run, boys, to the brewer's, and bring some swill for a converted sow,' words which went through my heart, made me sorrowful and closed my mouth. But I see that God still thinks of me and loves me, now that he causes me to see and converse with such people as you." We told her she must so much the more receive with love and affection what we said to her, out of regard to God and her soul. "Oh!" said she, "what you have told me is as dear to me as my heart," and she spoke with such feeling and tenderness, such depth of love, that I cannot describe it, and it affected me. Yes, she expressed to me more reality of the truth of Christianity, through the emotions of her heart, although in language according to the genius of the person, which nevertheless was nothing but loving--more, I said, than any one, whether minister or other person, in all New Netherland. She had a brother who was also a half-breed, who had made profession of Christianity, and had been baptized, and who was not by far as good as she, but on the contrary very wicked; though, I believe, he has been better, and has been corrupted by the conversation of impious Hollanders; for this place is a godless one, being without a minister, and having only a homily read on Sundays.[341] He was married, and so was she. She has some children; her husband is not as good as she is, though he is not one of the worst; she sets a good example before him, and knows how to direct him.

[Footnote 338: But it appears from the report of a physician and several surgeons, printed in _Ecclesiastical Records of New York_, II. 869-871, that in 1683 "Dr. Vorstman" (Peter Sluyter) attempted to practise medicine, and with disastrous results.]

[Footnote 339: Aletta.]

[Footnote 340: The record of baptisms of the Dutch church at Schenectady does not begin till 1694.]

[Footnote 341: There was a church, and Domine Gideon Schaets came over from Albany four times a year to administer the sacrament, but there was no settled minister till the call of Domine Petrus Tesschenmaker in 1684.]

She has a nephew, a full-blooded Mohawk, named Wouter. The Lord has also touched him, through her instrumentality. Wouter speaks no Dutch, or very little. He has abandoned all the Indians, and his Indian friends and relations, and lives with his uncle, the brother of Illetie. He has betaken himself entirely to the Christians and dresses like them. He has suffered much from the other Indians and his friends. He has such a love and comprehension of God, such reverence and humility towards Him and what is godly, that it is a joy to hear him speak. His thoughts are occupied night and day with God and Jesus Christ, wondering about God and His mercy, that he should cause him to know Him, to comprehend Him, and to serve Him. He is endeavoring to learn the Dutch language, so as to be instructed in Christianity, and to be among good Christians who live like Christians. That was all his desire, thinking all the time about it, speaking always with Illetie about it, who assisted and instructed him as much as she could, and always with love, with which God much blessed her. His uncle, with whom he lived, was covetous, and kept him only because he was profitable to him in hunting beaver. He therefore would hardly speak a word of Dutch to him, in order that he might not be able to leave him too soon, and go among the Christians and under Christianity. He sent him to the woods and among the Indians, for the sake of the devilish profit of the world--these are the words of Robert Sanders, and Illetie said not much less; yet this poor creature has, nevertheless, such a great inclination and longing after Christianity.

Besides this inward desire, propensity and feeling, God, the Lord, has given him outward proofs of His love and protection, and among other instances I will relate these two which I well remember. It happened once that his uncle went out a shooting with him in the woods, when the uncle began to sneer at him, saying that he, a mere stupid Indian, could not shoot, but a Christian was a different character and was expert and handy: that he, Wouter, would not shoot anything that day, but he himself would have a good hunt. To which Wouter replied, "It is well, I cannot help it; I will have whatever God sends me." Upon this they separated from each other in the woods, and each went where he thought best. "Now when I was tired out," said Wouter, for we heard it from himself, as well as from his aunt, "and had travelled and hunted the whole day without finding any game, with the evening approaching, grieved that I had shot nothing and troubled at the reproach of my uncle, my heart looked up to God; I fell upon my knees and prayed to Him, that although I was no Christian (he meant baptized), I loved God, and only longed to learn the language in order to be instructed in Christianity, and would receive it with my whole heart; that God would be pleased to send to me a wild animal to shoot, so that the slur, which my uncle had thrown upon me, might be wiped off." While thus down on his knees, with his hat hanging upon a bough which was bent down,[342] his prayer not finished, there comes and stands before him a very young deer, not twenty paces off; it comes softly up to him; his gun rests alongside of him loaded; he takes aim, shoots, and hits the deer in the breast, and the creature drops before him on its two fore feet and there remains. Without going to the deer, he thanks God upon his knees that he had heard his prayer and had turned back the reproach. "Oh," said he, "now do I know there is a God, who is in the woods also, and hears, loves, and thinks of me there." He comes to the deer, which is a young buck two or three years old, as fat and beautiful as he had ever seen in his life, and takes it upon his shoulders and goes with joy to his uncle, whom he found, and asked where was his good hunt and the game he had shot. His uncle was angry and spoke angrily, saying he had been going the whole day, tired and weary, without seeing or shooting anything, and had come there to look after chestnuts. "That is well, that is good," said Wouter, "reproach the Indians no more for not being good shooters. Look at what God has given me upon my prayer;" for he was very glad at what had occurred. The uncle stood and looked, and knew not what to say, being ashamed at what he heard and saw, and of himself. Wouter said further, "I know there has been no wild animal round about here, for I have explored the whole place, far and near, without being able to discover any; and now in so short a time this one presented itself before me, and it is, therefore, certain that God placed it there or caused it to come there. I have no doubt of it." Although the uncle was ashamed, he was not much affected by the circumstance, and still less humiliated or improved. But Elletie had taken it strongly to heart, and when they both told it to us, we were affected by it ourselves, and saw God in it more than he had done.

[Footnote 342: Methinks he was moved by seeing this bended branch, to bend himself before God, and therefore hung his hat upon it; though I dare not so affirm certainly.--_Note of the journalist._]

Another occasion was during the last harvest, in the year 1679, while he was out in the woods hunting beavers. He had then had a successful time and had killed some beavers, the flesh of which he used for food, and had nothing else to eat. The flesh of the beaver, although we never relished it, is esteemed by others a great delicacy. Nevertheless, as we have been told by those who are well acquainted with it, it is a kind of food with which they soon become satiated. He also became tired of it; and not having anything else became sad. He felt his heart boil--this is his own expression--and fell down upon his knees and prayed that God who had heard before, might be pleased now again to hear him and give him other food, not so much to satisfy him, as to show that he was God and loved him--a God whom the Indians did not know, but for whom he felt he had a greater hunger than his hunger for outward food, or for what the Indians usually were satisfied with, which is beaver and beaver meat, that is, to hunt successfully and trade the skins, which is all they go out hunting for; but that he felt something else, a hunger which could not be satisfied with this food and such like; that he felt more hunger after other food than what the Indians satisfied themselves with; and sought to be a Christian, and no longer to be an Indian.

While in the midst of his prayer, there stood a fine deer before him, which he aimed at and felled at one shot. He quickly loaded his gun again, and had scarcely done so, when he saw close to him a young buffalo. He levelled his gun and brought it down; but on running up to it, he came to himself, his heart was disturbed, and he became anxious and ashamed in considering his covetousness, that he had not thanked God for the first small animal; so that he could go no further from joy and fear. He fell upon his knees before God, in great humility, shame, and reverence, confessing his fault and his want of gratitude, praying God to forgive him, and thanking Him now for both; saying that through his unthankfulness for the first one, he was not worthy to have the second and larger one.

This may be believed as the true meaning and almost the very words of the Indian, for they were repeated to us from him in his presence, Illetie, who first told us, interpreting after him in the presence of five or six persons who were well versed in the Mohawk language, and bore testimony that he said what she interpreted, and that it was not enlarged.

Thus continuing to long after something which he did not have, and being yet in the woods returning home, he came to a bush which was growing in the shape of a man's hand, and which he stopped to look at and speculate upon. He wondered at it, and his heart was disturbed and began to _boil_. He fell down upon his knees by the bush, striking his hands into it, and prayed: "Oh God! you cause to come before me a sign or image of what I want and for which I hunger and long. It is true I have two hands with which I hunt and shoot and do other things, but I feel I still require a hand to help me, more serviceable than those I have and use, and stronger and wiser than mine. I am in want of a third hand. It is true I have forsaken the Indians and have come among Christians, but this cannot help me unless a third power make me a true Christian, and enable me to learn the language, that I may inquire, read, and enter into the grounds of Christianity." This he did with great tenderness and love; and being so much affected, he cut off the bush and took it with him in remembrance of his feelings and the outpouring of his heart to God, more than for the rarity of the figure in which it had grown. This stick or bush we have seen ourselves and had in our hands. He presented it to Robert Sanders, who carried it to Albany.

His aunt, Illetie, had taught him as well as she could, how he must pray, which she recommended to him to do every time he returned home, morning or evening, or on any other occasion which might happen to him, which he always did with concern and anxiety of heart. He always rejoiced at the proofs of God's [care] over him, and was sorry that he could not improve them, hoping and believing that God would yet give him what he still wanted and hungered after. I asked Illetie, who first told me all this, why they did not take him to some place where he could learn the language, and some handiwork, with reading and writing and the like, and especially where he might be brought to the knowledge and practice of Christianity. She said there were two impediments, first his uncle, whom we have mentioned, who only kept him as a kind of servant, such as the English have, for the sake of vile gain; and, although he was free, and bound to nobody, would never speak a word of Dutch to him, so that he might not lose him. The other difficulty was, that as he was of age, 24 or 26 years old, or thereabouts, no one would receive him for his board and clothing, fearful he would not learn the one or other handiwork, and would therefore be a loss to them. Whereupon I said if he would go with us we would give him board and clothing for all his life, and he should never be our servant or slave, and would be free and clear of all obligation; and if God should give him further the grace he would be our brother and as free as we were. "Oh," said she, "how happy he would be if he should be so fortunate, and God so honored him, as I must shame myself for the honor and happiness He causes me in enabling me to speak with you about these things." I spoke to her further what I thought would serve for her edification and consolation; and told her as my comrade was sick and not able to go out, and the weather was too rainy, she must come to us in the evening, and bring Wouter with her, that we might see him, and converse with him.

I thereupon went home and told my comrade my adventure, who was rejoiced at it, and would expect her in the evening. Meanwhile he had become stronger. The parish prelector,[343] who is the son of minister Schaets, came to visit my comrade, and said he had heard of us, and had been desirous to converse with us. He was a little conceited, but my comrade having heard that he was the prelector, gave him a good lesson, at which he was not badly content, and with which he went away.

[Footnote 343: Parish clerk and lay reader. This was Reynier Schaets, chirurgeon and justice of the peace, killed in the massacre of 1690.]

When evening came, so came Illetie with her husband, and Wouter, and Adam and his wife, with two or three others besides. We conversed together through Illetie, who interpreted to him from us, and to us from him, and he himself repeated all that Illetie had told me, as before related. We spoke to him from the bottom of our hearts, and he to us from the bottom of his heart and out of love to us. We exhorted, encouraged, and comforted him as much as he required, and his condition would permit. He thanked us with tenderness, that God had vouchsafed to cause him to see and speak with true Christians, with people whom he had so longed for, and with whom he wished to spend his life. "What would you be willing to give to do so?" my comrade asked. "Oh," said he, "all that I have in the world, and more if I had it, or it were in my power." We told him he must leave it to God's liberty, who would do what he pleased, would hear him, and release him when his time should come. After several episodes, we inquired of him what was his greatest wish and desire, his greatest hunger and strongest longing. "I know not justly what it is," he replied, "but I am like a person who has three knives or some other articles which are valuable, useful, and necessary, but has lost the one he has most need of, or is the most serviceable and necessary, and without which the others are of little service. Thus I have forsaken my relatives, and all my friends, my nation and country, which is good, and that is one of the articles. Moreover, I have come among Christians, and Dutch, and begun to know something of God, and that also is good, and is the second one. But I am wanting something more than these, and without which they are of no service to me, namely, a knowledge of the Dutch language, ability to enter into the grounds of Christianity, and become a good Christian." We encouraged him, and assured him of the way of the Lord, that God would hear his prayer, and fulfill his desire, according to the words of the Lord Jesus: "Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be satisfied." "Oh," said he to Illetie, "how I love people who speak so kindly and mildly, and know how to utter such sweet and beautiful comparisons. Oh, what love I have for them!"

After we had addressed him and her, earnestly and in love, and also the bystanders, to their shame and conviction, for their godless lives, whereby they repelled the heathen and wronged such as began to be drawn [to God] like these, and as having a terrible judgment to expect which they could not escape, Illetie said, yes, there were many Mohawk Indians, who, if they were taught, as they seek to be, and had good examples set before them by the Christians, by their lives, and were not so deceived and cheated by the Christians who ought to assist them, would listen; but now they were repulsed, and the Jesuits who were among them, and whom Wouter had heard preach several times in his own language, corrupted them all. Having said all that was proper to them at this time, we invoked upon them the blessing of God.

_26th, Friday._ Wouter was early at our house, in order to assist in getting the horses ready. My comrade finding himself better, but still weak, we determined to leave, two of us on horseback and he in a wagon belonging at Albany, which we had the good fortune of meeting at Schoonechten, and in which he could ride over a very comfortable road. It had frozen quite hard during the night, but when the sun rose a little, it became warm enough, especially in the woods, where the wind, which was northwest, could not blow through. I went to take my leave of several persons with whom I had conversed, and also of Illetie, consoling and strengthening her once more and committing her to God and His grace, and she leaving us with tenderness and many tears. At a place where we were taking our leave, the uncle of Wouter had come, who commenced saying in very good Dutch: "Well, gentlemen, I understand Wouter is going to Holland with you." We answered, we did not know it, nor had we thought of it, but nevertheless our hearts were good and tender enough to help him, both body and soul, in whatever the Lord had wrought in him, or should work in him, as far as we could, which we considered to be our duty, and not only our duty, but the duty of all Christians. If he wished to go to Holland, we would not prevent him, because any person who is free may go there if he chooses; and if he wished to go with us in the same ship in which we should go over, he was free and might act his mind; yes, if he wished to be in our company we should not be able to hinder him, and while he was free no one could prevent him, or ought to, but on the other hand should aid him; especially as all who bore the name of Christians ought to assist in bringing to Christ any one who hungered and thirsted after him as Wouter did. "Well," he asked, without any feeling, "what trade would you teach him?" "Whatever God wished," we answered. "And if he should be taken by the Turks," he continued, "who would be his security, and who would redeem him?" "Well," we asked, "if we were taken by the Turks who would be our security and redeem us? God gives no security and makes no agreement. Whoever wishes to be a Christian must believe and trust in Him, and follow Him in faith, and so must you, and I, and every one, who wishes to be a Christian." Some hard words passed also between Robert Sanders and him, about something relating to himself, namely, that Sanders had said the uncle only sought to keep Wouter on account of the profit to him. As the time called us to depart, we took our leave and left him standing there abashed. Having mounted our horses and entered the wagon, we rode from there about ten o'clock, over a smooth sandy road, and arrived at half-past three at Albany, or Fort Orange, where Sanders's wife was glad to see us, and where we were well received by his whole family.

This Schoonechtendeel is situated, as we have said, twenty-four miles west of Fort Albany, toward the country of the Mohawks, upon a good flat, high enough to be free from the overflowing of the water of the river, which sometimes overflows their cultivated lands which lie much lower. Their cultivated lands are not what they call in that country _valleyen_, but large flats between the hills, on the margin or along the side of the rivers, brooks or creeks, very flat and level, without a single tree or bush upon them, of a black sandy soil which is four and sometimes five or six feet deep, but sometimes less, which can hardly be exhausted. They cultivate it year after year, without manure, for many years. It yields large crops of wheat, but not so good as that raised in the woodland around the city of [New] York and elsewhere, nor so productively: the latter on the other hand produce a smaller quantity, but a whiter flour. The wheat which comes from this place, the Hysopus, and some other places is a little bluer. Much of the plant called dragon's blood grows about here, and also yearly a kind of small lemon or citron, of which a single one grows upon a bush. This bush grows about five feet high, and the fruit cannot be distinguished from any other citron in form, color, taste or quality. It grows wild about the city of New York, but not well. I have not heard of its growing in any other places.

The village proper of Schoon echten [Schenectady], is a square, set off by palisades. There may be about thirty houses, and it is situated on the side of the Maquas Kill [Mohawk River], a stream however they cannot use for carrying goods up or down in yachts or boats.[344] There are no fish in it except trout, sunfish, and other kinds peculiar to rivers, because the Cohoes stops the ascent of others, which is a great inconvenience for the _menage_ and for bringing down the produce.

[Footnote 344: The form of Schenectady a few years later is shown in the map in Miller's _New York_ (1695).]

As soon as we arrived in Albany we went to our skipper Meus Hoogboom, to inquire when he was going to the city. He said to-morrow, but he said he would come and notify us of the time. We saw it would run on a much longer time, as it usually does in these parts.

_27th, Saturday._ We went to call upon a certain Madam Rentselaer, widow of the Heer Rentselaer, son of the Heer Rentselaer of the colony named the colony of Rentselaerswyck, comprising twelve miles square from Fort Orange, that is, twenty-four miles square in all. She is still in possession of the place, and still administers it as _patroonesse_, until one Richard van Rentselaer, residing at Amsterdam, shall arrive in the country, whom she expected in the summer, when he would assume the management of it himself. This lady was polite, quite well informed, and of good life and disposition.[345] She had experienced several proofs of the Lord. The breaking up of the ice had once carried away her entire mansion, and every thing connected with it, of which place she had made too much account. Also, in some visitations of her husband, death, and others before. In her last child-bed, she became lame or weak in both of her sides, so that she had to walk with two canes or crutches. In all these trials, she had borne herself well, and God left not Himself without witness in her. She treated us kindly, and we ate here exceedingly good pike, perch, and other fish, which now began to come and be caught in great numbers. We had several conversations with her about the truth, and practical religion, mutually satisfactory. We went to look at several of her mills at work, which she had there on an ever-running stream, grist-mills, saw-mills, and others. One of the grist-mills can grind 120 schepels[346] of meal in twenty-four hours, that is, five an hour. Returning to the house, we politely took our leave. Her residence is about a quarter of an hour from Albany up the river. This day we went to visit still other farms and milling establishments on the other side of the river, where there was a water-fall but not large, sufficient to keep about three mills going. This is indeed, I think, the highest that I have seen.

[Footnote 345: The patroonship of Rensselaerswyck was founded in 1630 by Kiliaen van Rensselaer of Amsterdam. It was a great manorial estate, extending along the west bank of the Hudson from Beeren Island to the Mohawk and running so far back from the river as to embrace about the same area as the present Albany County, though Albany itself was not a part of it. The first patroon had died in 1646, the second, his oldest son Johannes, had also died, and the present heir was the latter's son Kiliaen. The lady here described was Maria, the widow of Jeremias van Rensselaer, the original patroon's third son, who had ruled the colony from 1658 to 1674. She was a daughter of Oloff Stevensz van Cortlandt, and lived till 1689. Her husband's youngest brother Richard had lived at the colony from 1652 to 1672, but was now in Holland, treasurer of Vianen, and never came to America again.]

[Footnote 346: Ninety bushels.]

_28th, Sunday._ We went to church in the morning, and heard Domine Schaets preach, who, although he is a poor, old, ignorant person, and besides is not of good life, yet had to give utterance to his passion, having taken his text largely upon us, at which many of his auditors, who knew us better, were not well pleased, and blamed, condemned, and derided him for it, which we corrected.[347]

[Footnote 347: Rev. Gideon Schaets (1608-1694) was minister of Rensselaerswyck from 1652 to 1657, and of Fort Orange (Beverwyck, Albany) from 1657 to 1694.]

In the afternoon, we took a walk to an island upon the end of which there is a fort built, they say, by the Spaniards. That a fort has been there is evident enough from the earth thrown up and strewn around, but it is not to be supposed that the Spaniards came so far inland to build forts, when there are no monuments of them to be seen elsewhere and down on the sea coasts, where, however, they have been according to the traditions of the Indians. This spot is a short hour's distance below Albany, on the west side of the river.[348]

[Footnote 348: With these data may be compared the matter of the Pompey Stone, found in Pompey, N.Y., and bearing apparently a Spanish inscription of 1520.]

_29th, Monday._ We should have left to-day, but it was not yet to happen, for our skipper, so he said, could not obtain his passport. We called upon several persons, and among others, upon the woman who had brought up Illetie, the Indian woman, and had first taken her from the Indians, and to whom we have alluded before. This woman, although not of openly godless life, is more wise than devout, although her knowledge is not very extensive, and does not surpass that of the women of New Netherland. She is a truly worldly woman, proud and conceited, and sharp in trading with _wild_[349] people, as well as _tame_ ones, or what shall I call them, not to give them the name of Christians, or if I do, it is only to distinguish them from the others. This trading is not carried on without fraud, and she is not free from it, as I have observed. She has a husband, which is her second one, and he I believe is a Papist. He remains at home quietly, while she travels over the country to carry on the trading. In fine she is one of the Dutch female traders, who understand their business so well. If these be the persons who are to make Christians of the heathen, what will the latter be? But God employs such means as pleases Him to accomplish His purposes. He had given Illetie more grace than to her, we are very certain.

[Footnote 349: _Wild_, savage, is the word commonly used by the Dutch of that time to denote the Indians.]

We were also invited to the fort by the Heer commandant, who wished to see us, but left it to our convenience. We went there with Robert Sanders, who interpreted for us. This gentleman received us politely. He said he was pleased to receive us, and to learn how we liked the lands up above, and made a few such common observations. He seemed to be not unreasonable, and a reliable person. If he was not a Scotchman, he seemed nevertheless to be a good Englishman, and, as we thought, a Presbyterian. We soon took a friendly leave, and returned home.

We spoke seriously to Robert Sanders about his pride, arrogance, temper, and passion, although according to the world's reputation he is not of bad character. His wife is more simple and a better person; we spoke to her also, as well as to their children, especially to the oldest, named Elizabeth, who was tender-hearted and affectionate. He and all of them promised to improve and reform themselves somewhat, and we saw with consolation that they in some things commenced to do so.

_30th, Tuesday._ We were ready to leave early, but it ran well on towards noon, when with a head wind, but a strong current down, we tacked over to Kinderhoeck, lying on the east shore sixteen miles below Albany.

Before we quit Albany, we must say a word about the place. It was formerly named the Fuyck by the Hollanders, who first settled there, on account of two rows of houses standing there, opposite to each other, which being wide enough apart in the beginning, finally ran quite together like a _fuyck_,[350] and, therefore, they gave it this name, which, although the place is built up, it still bears with many, especially the Dutch and Indians living about there. It is nearly square, and lies against the hill, with several good streets, on which there may be about eighty or ninety houses. Fort Orange, constructed by the Dutch, lies below on the bank of the river, and is set off with palisades, filled in with earth on the inside. It is now abandoned by the English, who have built a similar one behind the town, high up on the declivity of the hill, from whence it can command the place. From the other side of this fort the inhabitants have brought a spring or fountain of water, under the fort, and under ground into the town, where they now have in several places always fountains of clear, fresh, cool water. The town is surrounded by palisades, and has several gates corresponding with the streets. It has a Dutch Reformed and a Lutheran church. The Lutheran minister lives up here in the winter, and down in New York in the summer.[351] There is no English church or place of meeting, to my knowledge. As this is the principal trading-post with the Indians, and as also they alone have the privilege of trading, which is only granted to certain merchants there, as a special benefit, who know what each one must pay therefor, there are houses or lodges erected on both sides of the town, where the Indians, who come from the far interior to trade, live during the time they are there. This time of trading with the Indians is at its height in the months of June and July, and also in August, when it falls off; because it is then the best time for them to make their journeys there and back, as well as because the Hollanders then have more time outside their farm duties.

[Footnote 350: See p. 198, note 3.]

[Footnote 351: Rev. Bernhardus Arensius had since 1674 ministered to these two Lutheran congregations, and continued till his death in 1691.]

We came to anchor at Kinderhook, in order to take in some grain, which the female trader before mentioned[352] had there to be carried down the river.

[Footnote 352: Illetje's mistress.]

MAY _1st, Wednesday._ We began early to load, but as it had to come from some distance in the country, and we had to wait, we stepped ashore to amuse ourselves. We came to a creek where, near the river, lives the man whom they usually call the Child of Luxury,[353] because he formerly had been such an one, but who now was not far from being the Child of Poverty, for he was situated poorly enough. He had a saw-mill on the creek, on a water-fall, which is a singular one, for it is true that all falls have something special, and so had this one, which was not less rare and pleasant than others. The water fell quite steep, in one body, but it came down in steps, with a broad rest sometimes between them. These steps were sixty feet or more high, and were formed out of a single rock, which is unusual. I reached this spot alone through the woods, and while I was sitting on the mill, my comrade came up with the Child of Luxury, who, after he had shown us the mill and falls, took us down a little to the right of the mill, under a rock, on the margin of the creek, where we could behold how wonderful God is even in the most hidden parts of the earth; for we saw crystal lying in layers between the rocks, and when we rolled away a piece of the rock, there was, at least on two sides of it, a crust or bark, about as thick as the breadth of a straw, of a sparkling or glassy substance, which looked like alabaster, and this crust was full of points or gems, which were truly gems of crystal, or like substance. They sparkled brightly, and were as clear as water, and so close together that you could obtain hundreds of them from one piece of the crust. We broke some pieces off, and brought them away with us as curiosities. It is justly to be supposed that other precious stones rest in the crevices of the rocks and mines as these do. I have seen this sort of crystal as large and pointed as the joint of a finger. I saw one, indeed, at the house of Robert Sanders as large as your fist, though it was not clear, but white, like glassy alabaster. It had what they call a table point. Robert Sanders has much of this mountain crystal at his farm, about four miles from Albany, towards the Cahoos, on the east side of the river, but we have not been there.

[Footnote 353: This was one Frans Pieterse Clauw, who had come out to Beverwyck (Albany) in 1656.]

On returning to the boat, we saw that the woman-trader had sent a quantity of bluish wheat on board, which the skipper would not receive, or rather mix with the other wheat; but when she came she had it done, in which her dishonesty appeared, for when the skipper arrived at New York he could not deliver the wheat which was under hers. We set sail in the evening, and came to Claver Rack,[354] sixteen miles further down, where we also took in some grain in the evening.

[Footnote 354: "Clover Reach," now Claverack.]

_2d, Thursday._ We were here laden full of grain, which had to be brought in four miles from the country. The boors who brought it in wagons asked us to ride out with them to their places, which we did. We rode along a high ridge of blue rock on the right hand, the top of which was grown over. This stone is suitable for burning lime, as the people of the Hysopus, from the same kind, burn the best. Large, clear fountains flow out of these cliffs or hills, the first real fountains and only ones which we have met with in this country. We arrived at the places which consist of fine farms; the tillable land is like that of Schoonechtendeel, low, flat, and on the side of a creek, very delightful and pleasant to look upon, especially at the present time, when they were all green with the wheat coming up. The woodland also is very good for tillable land, and it was one of the locations which pleased me most, with its agreeable fountains. Coming back to the shore, I made a sketch,[355] as well as I could, of the Catskill mountains, which now showed themselves nakedly, which they did not do to us when we went up the river. They lie on the west side of the river, deep in the country, and I stood on the east side of it. In the evening we obtained a still more distinct view of them.

[Footnote 355: Sketch not preserved.]

_3d, Friday._ We took on board early the rest of our lading. Our tradress left us here in order to go back to Albany, and we received two other passengers in her stead, a young man of this place, named Dirck, to whom we made mention of our crystal. He said they had at his place a rock, in which there was a yellow, glittering substance like gold, as they firmly believed it was; he did not know we were there, otherwise he would have presented us with a specimen. We spoke to him, as he was a good hearted youth, several times of God and Christ, and of the Christian life, and each time he was much concerned. Truly we discover gradually more and more there is here a hunger and thirst after God, and no one to help them. They go everywhere wandering without a shepherd, and know not where they shall turn. We also spoke to the skipper's daughter, a worldly child, who was not affected by what we said. The Lord will, in His own time, gather together those who are of His elect.

We sailed from there about nine o'clock, but after going eight or twelve miles got aground in consequence of our heavy lading, where we were compelled to remain until four o'clock in the afternoon, waiting for high water. But what was unfortunate, we missed a fine, fair wind, which sprang up about eleven o'clock. Meanwhile the passengers went ashore. I walked a small distance into the country, and came to a fall of water, the basin of which was full of fish, two of which I caught with my hands. They were young shad. I went immediately after the other passengers for assistance to catch more, but when they came, they made such an agitation of the water, that the fish all shot to the bottom, and remained there under the rocks. We therefore could obtain no more; but if we had had a small casting net, we could have caught them in great numbers, or if I had remained there quiet alone. But as it was, we had to abandon it. These fish come at high water from the North River into these little streams, where they find clear, fresh water, and weeds and herbs. They remain there eating and sporting, and in the meantime at low water they are left in these holes or basins, and they are thus caught in great numbers in many of the streams by the Indians.

The water having risen, and the wind being favorable, we went on board, and as soon as we were afloat, got under sail. We proceeded rapidly ahead, and at sundown came to anchor before the Hysopus, where we landed some passengers who lived there.

_4th, Saturday._ We went ashore early, and further inland to the village. We found Gerrit the glass-maker there,[356] with his sister. He it was who desired to come up here in company with us, and he was now happy to see us. He was engaged putting the glass in their new church, but left his work to go with us through the country, where he was better acquainted than we were. We found here exceedingly large flats, which are more than three hours' ride in length, very level, with a black soil which yields grain abundantly. They lie like those at Schoonecte and Claver Rack, between the hills and along the creek, which sometimes overflows all the land, and drowns and washes out much of the wheat. The place is square,[357] set off with palisades, through which there are several gates; it consists of about fifty houses within the stockade. They were engaged in a severe war with the Indians during the administration of the Heer Stuyvesant, which is therefore still called the Hysopus war, partly because it was occasioned on account of the people of Hysopus, and because they have had to bear there the largest burden of it.[358] In returning to the village we observed a very large, clear fountain bubbling up from under a rock. When we arrived there, we went to the house of the person who was the head of the village, where some people had assembled, who, having no minister, and hearing that my comrade was a theologian, requested him to preach for them the next day. But our skipper having finished what he had to do, we left there. Here and in Albany they brew the heaviest beer we have tasted in all New Netherland, and from wheat alone, because it is so abundant. The glass-maker informed us that Willem, the son of our old people,[359] was going to follow the sea, and had left for Barbados; that Evert Duyckert, our late mate on our voyage out, who had gone as captain of a ketch to Barbados and Jamaica, had arrived; that it was his ship we had seen coming in, when we were leaving the city, and that perhaps he would go with her to Holland. This place is about three-quarters of an hour inland. At the mouth of the creek, on the shore of the river, there are some houses and a redoubt, together with a general storehouse, where the farmers bring in their grain, in order that it may be conveniently shipped when the boats come up here, and wherein their goods are discharged from the boats, as otherwise there would be too much delay in going back and forth. The woodland around the Hysopus is not of much value, and is nothing but sand and rock. We had hardly reached the river, when a man came running up to us as hard as he could, requesting to speak to us. We inquired of him what he desired, when he complained of being sorely afflicted with an internal disease, and said he had heard we well understood medicine, and knew what to prescribe for him. We told him we were no doctors, and had only brought a few medicines with us for our own use, and most of them we had given away.[360] My comrade told him what he thought of his disease, and that we could not help him: whereupon this poor wretched man went sorrowfully back again, for he had spent much to be cured. We told him, however, we would send him a brackish powder which had done good in several cases, and which, if it pleased God to bless it, would perhaps help him. We went on board the boat, and immediately got under sail, with a favorable but light wind, and by evening arrived at the entrance of the Highlands.

[Footnote 356: Gerrit Duyckinck.]

[Footnote 357: A ground-plan of Esopus or Kingston, showing the stockade with its gates, and the houses and fortifications as they are here described, may be found in Miller's _Description of New York_.]