iniquities, be blasphemed by the heathen.'"

The people still held the Director responsible for all the
consequences which had followed the massacres of Pavonia and Corlaer's
Hook. They boldly talked of arresting and deposing him, and of sending
him, as a culprit, back to Holland. The Director, panic stricken,
endeavored to shift the responsibility of the insane course which had
been pursued, upon one Adriansen, an influential burgher, who was the
leading man among the petitioners who had counselled war.

Adriansen was now a ruined man. His own plantation had been utterly
devastated. Exasperated by his losses, he had no disposition to take
upon himself the burden of that popular odium which had now become so
heavy. Losing all self-control, he seized a sword and a pistol, and
rushed into the Director's room, with the apparent intention of
assassinating him, exclaiming, "what lies are these you are reporting
of me."

He was disarmed and imprisoned. One of his servants took a gun, went
to the fort and deliberately discharged the piece at the Director, but
without hitting him. The would-be assassin was shot down by a sentinel
and his head exposed upon the scaffold. Adriansen was sent to Holland
for trial.

After terrible scenes of suffering, a temporary peace was restored
through the heroic interposition of DeVrees. He was the only man who
dared to venture among the exasperated Indians. They watched over him
kindly, and entreated him to be cautious in exposing himself, lest
harm might befall him from some wandering Indians by whom he was not
known. But the wrongs which the Indians had experienced were too deep
to be buried in oblivion. And there was nothing in the character of
Kieft to secure their confidence. After the truce of a few weeks the
war, without any imaginable cause, broke out anew.

All the settlements at Westchester and Long Island were laid waste.
Scarcely an inhabitant, save the roving Indian, was to be found in
those regions. The Dutch were driven out of the whole of New Jersey.
The settlers on Staten Island were trembling in hourly expectation of
an assault. War's devastating surges of flame and blood swept nearly
the whole island of Manhattan. Bold men ventured to remain well armed,
upon a few of the farms, or _boweries_ as they were called, in the
immediate vicinity of the fort, but they were continually menaced with
attack, night and day. A _bowery_ was a farm on which the family
resided. A planta