November 1633—New Amsterdam Harbor

The two Dutch fregätten floated quietly, wrapped in a white shroud. The dense fog that had settled over the New Amsterdam harbor was both a blessing and a curse. It hid them from potential enemies but made navigation hazardous and obscured what was happening onshore. That something was happening was evident. The muffled cries and the reflection of flames in the fog were noticeable even out in the harbor off Fort Amsterdam. The Friesland and the Rotterdam had used the cover of the fog to sail unobserved into the anchorage. When the disturbance on shore became evident, they had quietly gone to quarters, with their guns loaded but not run out. Ever since the decision to try and reach New Amsterdam after the defeat at Dunkirk, the ships' captains had worried that they might not reach the colony before their enemies. It appeared that the worst had happened. Captain Tjaert de Groot of the Friesland used the fog as cover to send his last remaining boat ashore with his first officer to scout the situation. The boat was overdue and he was worried.

Visibility was now down to twenty yards. Every swirl of the fog brought visions of a French or English ship bearing down with guns run out. Finally, he could wait no longer. He picked up a speaking trumpet, and stepped to the railing. He made sure the trumpet was directed at the Rotterdam's aftercastle, away from shore and hailed the ship. "Captain van den Broecke, my boat is overdue and I have no others left to send. Can you send one? We must know what's happening." He placed the trumpet to his ear to catch the reply. Instead of the expected words, a laugh could be heard close by on the water. He reversed the trumpet and hailed the Rotterdam again. "Hold off, we've heard something." Slowly a lantern became visible through the fog. It came from the direction the ship's boat had taken earlier when it headed toward shore.

"Ahoy, the Friesland. Where the hell are you?" The shout was loud enough to carry across the harbor. It was the first officer, Pieter de Beers, and he was obviously drunk.

De Groot raced to the opposite rail. A drunken sailor revealing their presence to possible enemies was the last thing he needed. If the French or English had somehow beaten them to New Amsterdam, they could be facing serious opposition. Surprise would be their only hope if they were outnumbered. The boat bumped alongside and he hissed down at it, "Quiet! You fool! You'll give us away. Come aboard and make your report."

De Beers boarded slowly, holding onto a rum bottle. When he reached the deck, he swayed more than the wave motion would account for and there was a broad smile on his face. De Groot could smell the rum half way across the deck. "Everything is fine, sir. The town is celebrating a successful harvest. The director general extends his greetings . . ." He raised the rum bottle. ". . . and an invitation to both crews to join the celebration." He extended the bottle to Tjaert.

"Very well, Mr. de Beers." In his relief at the news, Tjaert reflexively accepted the bottle and took a small taste, then a longer swallow. The rum sent a warmth to his stomach that drove away the chills of the fog and his fears. "It seems you've already received your share of the invitation. You'll be staying on board." He turned to the watch officer by the companionway. "Have the men secure from quarters and pass the word over to the Rotterdam that everything's fine. Then tell off some men for an anchor watch. Everyone else can go ashore. After what we've gone through the past months, they deserve it."

Word of the invitation quickly spread and sailors appeared on the deck ready to disembark as if by magic. They ended up milling about for some time. The battle damage from Dunkirk had left only one usable boat. The captain went ashore in the first trip. It took nearly an hour after he left to finish rowing the remainder of the crew ashore.

De Groot intended to seek out the Director General, Wouter van Twiller, to learn the latest local news and pass on what had happened at Dunkirk. The director general apparently had the same intention and was waiting for him on the dock. Van Twiller was short, stout, and very well off, judging by the cut of his clothing. "Captain de Groot, to what do we owe this pleasure? It isn't often that two ships of the fleet come to call. I want to assure you our full cooperation to make your stay enjoyable. Your men are welcome to join our harvest celebration." He gestured toward the crowd around the building. "Your first officer mentioned that you have news, but he said I had best talk to you."

Other well wishers started to drift toward the dock. Tjaert took van Twiller aside. "Is there someplace I could speak to you and your other leaders in private?"

The look on Tjaert's face sobered von Twiller quickly. "The church is just up the street. I'm sure no one's there at this time of night." He grabbed a young man who had been hanging back. "Go and fetch Krol, van Rensselaer, Schuyler, and de Vries. Tell them I said to fetch them and don't take no for an answer. Bring them to the church! Do you understand?"

"Yes, Uncle." The youth ran off to the partiers by the bonfire.

Wouter asked de Groot quietly, "How bad is the news?"

All voyage-long Tjaert and van den Broecke had debated this very question. The fleet had undoubtedly been defeated at Dunkirk. What remained of it was unknown. The plan Admiral Tromp had discussed in the unlikely chance of defeat had been for the remnants to head to Recife. Circumstances for his and van den Broecke's ships had precluded that. "It's long and involved and I'd rather go through it just once. Suffice it to say that there won't be many Dutch ships calling here for some time."

Van Twiller pulled on his moustache as the word sank in. By the time they reached the church, his stomach was twisted up in knots. The money meant for the city's defenses had gone to other, more profitable ventures. When he had spent those funds, he never dreamed that someday the defenses would actually be necessary.

It took nearly half an hour to locate and bring the leaders to the meeting. As soon as Captain van den Broecke arrived in the company of the last two members, Tjaert started in with his news. "There's no way to make this easier to hear. The fleet has suffered a major defeat."

The New Amsterdam leaders all started to ask questions at once but Tjaert cut them off with a wave of his hand. "Let me finish first. We met the Spaniards off Dunkirk in September. The action initially began very well for us. Our fleet held the weather gauge and Admiral Tromp had ordered all ships to engage the Spaniards at close range. We—" He motioned to van den Broecke and himself "—were on the northeast edge of the action and caught the Spanish ship San Pedro de la Fortuna straggling from their main body. The French and English fleets were supposed to support us after we had engaged the Spaniards. We pounded the San Pedro until it was barely afloat. The Rotterdam suffered some rigging damage and we both received some shots to the hull. As the fight progressed, it left us about two miles to the northeast of the main fleet action. I signaled to the Rotterdam to finish off the San Pedro, while I took the Friesland back to the fleet.

"The French and English fleets were about to join us and I wanted to be in at the finish. From over a mile away, I watched as they passed through our fleet. De With's flagship was blown up in the first exchange of fire and that stunned everyone. I realized immediately what had happened. The bastards had switched sides and then I noticed that three English ships had broken out of their formation and were heading in our direction. I came about and headed back toward the Rotterdam. As we passed astern of the San Pedro, I ordered a final volley. I hope it sank the bastard, but we couldn't stay around to find out. Likely, that's the last time we'll get to administer that type of damage to a Spaniard in a long time. Their return volley was ragged but did take out our foretop. We cut away the damage quickly, but it cost us some time.

"By then the three Englishmen were definitely heading to engage us. I signaled the Rotterdam, to break off and follow my lead. I intended to try and head to port and warn them of the defeat, but the English now had the weather gauge and kept forcing us to the north. They kept coming, but their pursuit seemed halfhearted at best. Eventually we were able to lose them in a fog bank, but by then our only course was to head here."

Joris van den Broecke stood up with a beer in hand and slapped Tjaert on the back. "He's too modest. The ploy he used to make our escape was brilliant. As we approached the fog bank, he had a brazier set up in a hatchway and lit off some old, damp gunpowder and rags to smoke like there was a fire below decks. As soon as we reached the fog bank, he doused his running lights and launched his long boat with a spar holding a decoy light. The long boat held four casks of old spoiled gunpowder and a slow fuse. When the powder went off, the English thought he'd blown up and broke off the pursuit. I guess they didn't think the Rotterdam was worth any further effort."

Tjaert was blushing from the praise but added, "I'm not sure their hearts were in it from the beginning. Their fleet seemed more than willing to let the French have the lead from the brief observation we had before the chase. I just gave them an honorable excuse to break off."

"But what of our fleet? What happened to it?" Rensselaer had cut straight to the crux of the matter.

"I don't know." Tjaert answered and Joris just shrugged his shoulders in agreement. "The French treachery destroyed or heavily damaged most of the ships not already closely engaged with the Spaniards. I'd guess only a dozen, at best, were still fit enough to try to escape. In any case, the fleet has ceased to exist as a force to hold off the Spanish. What advantage the Spanish take from their victory depends on their leadership. The best we can hope for is that they close off our ports, otherwise we may be on our own."

"But what do we do?" Van Twiller had started as a West Indies Company clerk and realized the implications from the loss of the fleet. The Spanish were a long-time enemy but were more concerned with retaking Holland. The English were fierce trade rivals at sea and the French, rivals in the fur trade. Trade and money were powerful motivators. "Without the fleet, we're at the mercy of any fleet that arrives here. The French and English, both have reasons to wish us gone."

"You probably have some time before you have to worry about an attack. We didn't go down without inflicting heavy losses. They'll need to refit before anyone can show up here. We need to ourselves. We suffered damage to our masts and rigging in the fight and on our voyage. Our bottoms need to be careened and shot holes repaired. Can your yard handle our repairs?"

"Only if we do it one ship at a time." De Vries owned the local shipyard and understood the tasks involved. "It doesn't sound like you've suffered any damage we can't handle. How fast we have to finish will be the biggest concern."

"I'd hoped you'd say that. I'll keep one ship on patrol. We may have been badly hurt at Dunkirk, but we can still take the fight to our enemies. We plan on trolling the Grand Banks for prizes. It may be only a pinprick now, but who knows what the future will bring."

The meeting continued for another hour as they discussed technical issues on repairs and theorized on what would happen in the foreseeable future.

De Vries added an extra two weeks to his estimate on repairs when he realized that both ships were fregätten. He would have to extend the slipway to handle the larger size of the ships. By the time they had broke up, Tjaert was relieved that at least the local leaders seemed to grasp the severity of the situation. They would do what needed to be done to get his ships battle worthy again. If only the French and English would cooperate.

December 1633—West Bank of the North River

"Heave! Heave!" Each explosive pull inched the Rotterdam up the extended slipway of the drydock. Dockworkers slathered on grease with huge straw brushes to ease the ship further into the berth. The temporary expansion of the drydock's slipway to accommodate the fregätten had taken de Vries almost a month to complete, instead of his original estimate of two weeks.

Joris stood next to the dock master, watching his ship rise out of the water. The last hectic week, emptying the ship of all cannon and stores to lighten it and reduce its draft, had left his crew exhausted. Now, the critical point was fast approaching. He yelled at the crew on the ground, holding the lines to the topmast. "Steady on those lines! Keep them taut!" If the lines to the mast weren't kept taut, the ship could topple in the dock. Everyone was struggling to use the last of the tide to pull the ship clear of the water. Their breaths steamed in the cool fall afternoon. Two more turns of the capstan brought the ship as far up the slipway as it could go. Immediately, dockworkers swarmed around the dripping hull, setting braces to stabilize the ship. When the foreman yelled that it was secured, the ship's crews on the lines eased off and let out a cheer. Van den Broecke just let out a long sigh. He'd been holding his breath from the tension.

The dock master leaned over the side and pointed to the site where they had struggled throughout the journey to stem a leak. "See there, Captain? You were lucky to have made it here. It looks like you took a hit as you rose on a wave. The butt ends are sprung and the frame member is damaged. It's going to be at least a month before we can finish this."

Van den Broecke wasn't happy. "I've got to report to Tjaert. He'll want to know how long until we can sail again." He fixed the dock master with a hard stare. "You're sure it's going to be a month? A lot of lives could be in jeopardy if you run longer."

Huetjen bristled at the comment. "Captain, I know my business. With your crew to help, we'll be done by the new year. I commanded a ship once, too, before I lost my leg." He held out the peg leg for emphasis. "I know what you're going through, watching it stuck on dry land. I'll hurry the work as fast as I can." He paused, pointing at the damaged planking. "You'll get it back when that's as good as new! I have family here and we need both your ships if we're to survive."

The captain chuckled. "Very well. I'll leave my child in your care, doctor. Get her well soon." He swung himself over the side and slid down a rope. He slowly walked around the ship, surveying the damage before he set off in search of Tjaert to let him know that he would be sailing alone on his planned cruise. Joris wasn't too concerned. In these waters, even one Dutch fregätten should be more than a match for anything she met. If she wasn't, a whole fleet probably wouldn't be enough.

****

In preparation for the council of war, de Groot had spent the previous two weeks surveying the fortifications around New Amsterdam. He had even sailed the Friesland up the river as far as he could safely take her to "scout out the territory" as he told von Twiller. Tjaert met with a few key members of the colony to learn more about the Dutch settlements further upriver. He wanted to lay the groundwork for his future plans.

The debate over how to proceed had settled into three factions amongst the settlers. Some of the leaders weren't sure if there really was a threat and certainly didn't want to spend any more money paying workers to strengthen the fort's defenses. Von Twiller led this group. Others wanted to abandon New Amsterdam and return to the Netherlands immediately. The rest wanted to stay and fight. When it came for Captain de Groot's turn to speak, he surprised everyone.

"I agree with the Director General. I don't think we should spend anything on the fort here."

In the outcry that followed, only van Rensselaer noticed the slight emphasis on the word here. As the turmoil started to settle, he spoke up. "I think the captain has something to add."

"Thank you, Kiliaen. New Amsterdam is a wonderful city, but it is undefendable. Any force that is sent will have naval support and troops. The frontier forts at home work because the Spanish only attack from one direction. Here, an attacker can land troops on one side of the town, sail around the island and land troops on a second site, then bombard the fort from a third. The Friesland and the Rotterdam cannot and will not be tied down to defend a city that cannot be saved."

"But what choice do we have?" exclaimed a patroon in the back of the crowd. "I'll do whatever I must to defend my home."

"I'm glad you asked." De Groot's smile looked a lot like the one the mouse saw on the cat that had caught it. "Your house is near Orange?"

The patroon just nodded yes.

"While New Amsterdam is undefendable, the colony is defendable, but only upriver. If any fortifications are to be built, the effort must be made upriver. I've spoken with a number of traders and took the Friesland to scout the site in person. About twenty-five miles north, there is a spot along the river that's ideal for a fort. It's on high ground and could be defended from water attack with a log boom. Our fregätten are offensive weapons. We can do more harm raiding the French and English shipping than sitting at anchor. We will work out of New Amsterdam and will fight if the enemy appears while we're in port, but the colony must be prepared to abandon the city if a large force appears."

Three merchants were immediately on their feet shouting for recognition. The Director General cut them off. "I understand your concern. We cannot possibly abandon the city now. It's the dead of winter. Captain, you must reconsider."

Tjaert just stared at him.

Van Rensselaer stood up. "If I might make a suggestion." Everyone turned to Kiliaen, because he had given no indication to that point where he stood. "Wouter is right. It is the dead of winter." He turned to face de Groot and gave a slight wink that went unnoticed by the group. "Captain de Groot, shipping off the Banks is slim this time of year. One ship shall be more than enough to handle what's there. The other one can stay in port and finish refitting. They can trade places by spring and we would be able to finish refitting both your ships completely, at our expense. Then, when the shipping season resumes, you both could cruise for prizes." He clasped his hands on the table. "In the meantime, construction of the fort you suggested could be started. Since it will benefit my manor upriver, I'd be willing to pay for the work through the winter. We could revisit the issue of the city in the spring. Who knows? We may even get good news and find our fears were unfounded."

The city merchants nearly fell over themselves in support. Tjaert and Kiliaen looked at each other and nodded. Their plan had gone exactly as they had hoped.

****