ous and so unfortunate, was one. The sheriff, Anthony, produced his pris

oners.

They were from Seatalcott

or Brookhaven, Long Island, and were charged with having procured the deaths of one George Wood by wicked arts and of the infant child of Ann Rogers, "widdow of ye aforesaid George Wood." Several witnesses testified to the facts. "Then the clarke calling upon Ralph Hall, bad him hold up his hand and read as follows: Ralph Hall, thou standest here indicted for that, not having the fear of God before thine eyes, thou didst upon the 25th day of December, as is suspected, by some wicked and detestable arts, cause the deaths of the said George Wood and the infante childe.'" The wife, Mary Hall, was summoned in the same way. Both prisoners pleaded not guilty. The jury, who had some intelligence, gave them the advantage of the doubt. Hall was acquitted. Some suspicion, they allowed, rested upon his wife. and he was directed to give bonds for her good conduct. But Governor Nicolls in 1668, with his usual moderation, set them both free. Some years later Katherine Harrison, a widow from Wethersfield, Connecticut, was charged by the people of Westchester with witchcraft. They were anxious to drive her from their borders, but she proved her innocence so clearly that she was allowed "to remaine in the towne of Westchester." New York officials were free from the mad superstition that

covered Old and New England with judicial murders; her juries never condemned a witch.

Nicolls in November wrote to the duke that his government was satisfactory to the people, and that even the republicans could find no cause for complaint. He urged his patron to send over merchant ships, for the trade of the city was nearly lost. Yet he foretold the future greatness of New York; he saw that it must become the chief port of the continent. Hither, he said, and not to Boston, must come the commerce of America. But he complained of the neglect shown towards him by the ministry; no supplies had reached him from England, he had nearly ruined his private fortune to save his soldiers. from want, and now he begged to be relieved of his command.

At this moment there was good reason why no troops nor supplies came from England. Charles had entered upon the war with the Netherlands, hoping to crush them easily. At first he had been successful. De Witt had sent out one of the finest fleets the Dutch had ever possessed. It was commanded by Obdam, a brave if not a skilful officer; Cortenær was his vice-admiral, and the most famous Dutch captains, except De Ruyter, who was on a distant expedition, appeared in the fleet. The crews were well fed with increased rations and promised pensions to the wounded and double pensions to their wives and children in case of

death. A great reward was offered to any one who captured a flag-ship. One hundred and three line-of-battle ships, eleven fire-ships and twelve galliots, besides a reserve squadron of forty ships more, all manned by twenty-two thousand men, completed this unequaled armament. All was hope and ardor, we are told by D'Estrades, among the Dutch soldiers and sailors; they were full of cheerfulness and certain of success. The English fleet numbered one hundred and nine line-of-battle ships, twenty-one fireships, seven galliots, and twenty-one thousand men. The Duke of York, the Earl of Sandwich, and Prince Rupert were in chief command. The fire-ships used in these naval contests were often of great service; they closed with the larger vessels and were then set on fire. The two fleets met off Lowestoft on the Surrey coast, on the 2d of June. A frightful combat followed. Cortenær, the Dutch vice-admiral, was shot early in the battle, and his squadron fled; Obdam assailed the Duke of York on his flagship, but his own ship blew up, and all on board were lost. The Dutch were beaten. They fled to their harbors with great loss, and the enraged people met their defeated officers with outcries and ill-usage.

The English were full of triumph. "It is the greatest victory that ever was," wrote Pepys in his secret diary; and the king ordered medals to be struck inscribed "et pontus serviret" -"the sea shall obey him." The

English were plainly masters of the sea. But not for a long time. John De Witt was now the ruling statesman of the Netherlands. He formed a happy contrast to the corrupt kings and ministers of his age. Honest, firm, unyielding, pure in morals, an excellent husband and father, learned and the friend of all men of letters, but above all a patriot, De Witt, for twenty years, as Grand Pensionary of Holland, led on his countrymen to unusual prosperity. Dutch fleets covered the seas. Dutch commerce supplied the wants of Europe. The cities of Holland were full of activity and wealth, the envy and the models of their contemporaries. But it was as the teachers of republican virtue and simplicity that the Dutch had chiefly alarmed and offended the profligate rulers of France and England. A sense of their own moral inferiority sharpened the rage of Charles, James, and Louis against De Witt and his associates. The republic must be subdued, the monitor blotted from existence, and the conscience of the nations deadened and destroyed. Happily the event was very different, and the corrupt monarchs succeeded only in rousing again an impulse of reform that became at last irresistible.

De Witt, unshaken in defeat, succeeded in awakening the patriotism of his people. He went in person to the fleet, punished the cowardly, rewarded the brave, celebrated the memories of the two brave admirals,

Obdam and Cortenaer.

The fleet was fitted out anew, and suddenly the return of De Ruyter with twelve lineof-battle ships, a great number of prizes, and two thousand tried sailors added to the general confidence and joy. The people crowded to see their famous hero, women kissed and embraced him. He received them with all his usual good humor; they hailed him as the savior of the republic. He was made at once admiral of the fleet.

De Ruyter was the chief naval commander of his time. He was born in extreme poverty at Flushing, the son of a brewer's journeyman. He went to sea at eleven as a cabinboy, was then a common sailor, and soon made his way by his skill and courage to the highest place in the navy. Modest, honest, sincere, amiable, he was often unwilling to take the high positions offered him. He was a faithful friend of De Witt and always eager to obey him. But every one felt his real superiority as a commander and a citizen; his return at once roused his countrymen from their depression. He was of middle stature, we are told, but good figure, his forehead broad, his complexion ruddy, dark eyes and beard, and a grave yet gentle countenance that reflected the brave spirit within. He reminds one of the faithful Batavians who formed the most trusted portion of the Roman legions in Britain.

The war in Europe and its disas

ters prevented any effectual aid from being sent to Nicolls. He was left to his own resources. From his residence in the fort, June 22d, he issued his orders to all the officers, civil and military, of the East Riding of Yorkshire to prepare for the defense of New York. De Ruyter, he said, was about "to attempt the recovery of this place." He directed every town to be ready at the first alarm to send their soldiers in arms to the Ferry opposite New York. A physician and surgeon, Peter Harris, who had arrived in the city about this time, he

the Fatherland. But soon Nicolls found a new cause for anxiety. Louis XIV., who was bound by treaty to assist the Dutch, roused by the boastful claims of the English king, had resolved to interfere. He thought, he said, the Dutch were entitled to New Netherland; he proposed terms of peace which Charles haughtily rejected. Louis then declared war against the English; but his aim was only to weaken both Holland and England and to profit by their disasters. Denmark, too, had formed an alliance with the Dutch, and Holland was no longer alone. An invasion

made by the Bishop of Munster into the Dutch territory, with fearful ravages, was checked by the interposition of the German powers.

Nicolls, neglected by his superiors, was next to provide for the safety of his northern domain. The Mohawks were the fiercest, boldest, most overbearing of all the Indian tribes. Cruel beyond belief, cannibals who fed on the flesh of their prisoners, cunning, daring, merciless, they ruled over the lands from Saratoga to Canada, and terrified the other people. of the woods into abject submission. It is said that a single Mohawk would by his presence alone subdue a whole tribe of the river savages. They sent their messengers into Long Island and exacted tribute even of the Canarsies. With the Dutch they had been friendly; with the French they waged almost perpetual war. Their massacres and their treachery roused

the French ruler of Canada to revenge. He planned an expedition that was to enter the Mohawk country, destroy their castles and villages, and break forever their haughty

Courcelle

spirit. Courcelles, in the depth of a Canadian winter, gathered his troops. for his mad expedition. It was January, the ground was covered deep. with snow, the soldiers were often frozen and rendered helpless when they went to pay their devotions at the shrine of St. Michael the Archangel. Even already they dropped frozen and benumbed in the snow and were carried away to places of shelter. But Courcelles persisted in his plan of marching several hundred miles into the wilderness, to burn the Mohawk villages. The soldiers, provided with snow-shoes on which they were to travel, were laden with thirty pounds of baggage; their provisions were carried on sledges drawn by dogs. They passed over the frozen. lake of Canada, through Lake Champlain, along the borders of the Adirondacks, and reached the hostile territory. Nearly all the Mohawks had gone on a foray against the Southern savages. But enough remained to annoy the half-frozen but still courageous French.

The guides proved treacherous or incompetent, and led the invaders far away from the Mohawk castles. A

party of Mohawks were seen retreating; the French pursued with sixty of their best fusileers, fell into an ambush, and were shot down by two hundred savages who hid behind trees. The Indians carried the heads of four of the slain to Schenectady, and an express was at once sent to Albany to announce the approach of the French. Courcelles had been led by his guides to within a few miles of the Dutch settlements. He must have wandered for two months at least in the frightful wilderness, his soldiers often dropping by the way. The Dutch received him with kindness, furnished him with wine and provisions, especially peas and bread." They offered him shelter for his troops, but he was afraid to trust to the luxury of a fire and a home "his weary and half-starved people," who were already too willing to leave their ranks, and with whom he had marched and camped "under the blue canopy of heaven full six weeks." At length, when refreshed and fed, Courcelles turned back to march through the frozen wilderness, still courageous and sanguine. The Mohawks now fell upon their retreating foes, but killed or captured only a few. Five Frenchmen they found lying dead on the way with cold and hunger. They brought back their scalps.

To Nicolls the expedition of Courcelles was a plain invasion of the English territory He wrote a remonstrance to Tracy, the Governor. He

pointed out that a foreign army had come upon his lands without his permission; but the letter is full of his usual humanity and tenderness. He recalls the days when he and Tracy had served in the French army together with the Duke of York, his master; thanks him for the civilities his countrymen had shown them in their low estate, and signs his letter, "Your affectionate servant." It was this strain of tenderness that marks all his career. Tracy replied with politeness, excusing the error of Courcelles; he had not even heard, he said, that the English were in possession of New York. He thanked Nicolls for his obliging expressions, but said it was his son who had been his acquaintance in the French wars; he signs himself, "Your thrice affectionate and humble servant." Unhappily the French did not remember the kind deeds of the people of Schenectady. The town was the scene of a fearful massacre by the French and Indians in February, 1690.

In March, 1666, Nicolls was obliged to forbid the export of wheat from New York, owing to the poor harvest and the quantity furnished to Courcelles. He wrote letters to the duke explaining the unfortunate condition of his province. He thought the Dutch would prove good subjects if they were only allowed some privileges of "time and trade." But the effect of the war and the English navigation laws had been fatal to the