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Northwest Passage, Part Five

Written by Herbert and William Sakalaucks

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 ...