The Dutch Dynasty

Tales of the First Three States

 

 

by

Ashley Meier

&

Ravyn Karasu

 

When the White Men Came

(1609-1655)

 

          I spent most of my early years with the Lenni Lenape tribe. I can’t remember much about them, but I do recall them treating me as one of their own. The men dressed me as they would dress themselves in spite of my lighter skin. I would join them wearing breechclouts and moccasins, occasionally with leggings and a robe on cold nights.

 

          My sister, Gela, always tried to remove my robe to test my tolerance for the cold. “You are nearly as white as the snow,” she’d say. “Surely, you can handle it much better than we.” She was pesky, but I’d give anything to go back to those times now.

          I also had a brother, Gelelemend. Oh, how I loved him. He was my most precious companion in those days. We always had a friendly rivalry. Which of us was the better man? It was all in good fun for two small boys. Some competitions such as foot races were in his favor. These foot races were challenging and one misstep could crown a winner. We would either tie, or he would best me by a hair. I was never bitter. It was in archery and lacrosse that I always held the upper hand, as these were my favorite activities as a young boy.

 

          Let’s not set a false impression. Life in the tribe was not always fun and games. The Lenape lived off the land, and there was much work to be done. The men would often take me with them for these tasks. They taught me to fish, to hunt, to fight, and to heal. All were a joy, and I soaked their knowledge like a sponge. Yet, the healing; oh, how I hated the healing. I certainly understood the importance of this skill, but I possessed no natural talent. I was always a bit too…free and forceful with the knife. Let’s say that there is a reason why Penn is the doctor in my family.

 

          I can recall a particular memory from when I was five years old. While cutting bark for a canoe, I saw a beautiful girl sewing the previously chopped pieces of bark back together. Appearing to be twice my age, she was somewhat clumsily with small hands and uncoordinated fingers. She was cute, and I hoped to impress her with my mildly masculine lifestyle.

However, I never had the opportunity. Even though I was respectable at five years old, the community elders frowned on any possible relationship. They claimed that work is an objective that surpasses all else, and that the pretty girl would have to wait until later in both our lives. Or, like most small boys, once she was out of my line of sight. Then I would forget about her, and continue pursuing whatever interesting, rustling, or shiny thing I came upon. But, I digress. Imagine, if I was not so scatterbrained back then, I could have met my possible future wife. Or, perhaps it could have gone horribly wrong, resulting in a hand print on my face.

 

I believe the year was 1631.  I was in a hunting party. As in, I was in a hunting party. I had branched off on my own, a mere three minutes or so from the others. I had become distracted by a strange noise and had gone to investigate. Of course, I probably should have alerted one of the adults. One thing was for sure about me, though. I was an independent sort of person, a stubborn, and a curious sort of person. Some things never change.

 

Whatever the noise, I never did find the source. What I did find was a strange sight on the horizon. From where I stood, I could see out into the vast waters. Out there were no canoes and there danced no dolphins. Instead, there was a hulking ship, great sails billowed, and a flag raised high on the mast. For its size, it didn’t have all that many people aboard. That didn’t matter, though. Even with so few, and even though they were still a ways out, they were a very loud crew. This was a strange new thing, and I had no idea what to do or think. So, I did the only thing I could possibly think to do, and that was to hurry to the elders and tell them of my discovery.

 

I tried to keep calm, but I failed miserably. I was highly animated and curiously anxious. I had to tell my story twice, for I had spoken so fast the first time. At first, the elders thought I was telling some sort of tall tale, exaggerating to some extent.

“But I did see it! I promise!” I cried out. I pointed to the direction from whence I had come. “It’s just over there! You can see it for yourself! You can even hear it if you go to the beach!” I may have been a bit mischievous, but I was not a malicious liar, and the elders knew this. So, it was finally decided to check my story and investigate this strange incoming ship. In they came, and ashore they rode, and we were there to greet them once they had landed upon the sands. Immediately, I knew there was something different about these men. The elders, they noticed it too. I could see them looking back and forth between those strange, new white men and myself, their skin not too different from my own.

 

They were led by a tall and intimidating man with a cold and deadpan gaze. He made me uncomfortable. I found myself sinking behind the elders in order to shield myself from him. Still, there he stood, towering even over some of the adults. His eyes were fixed on me, even as he spoke to the elders. “What manner of man are you?” He was asked. “From where have you come?”

He raised his gaze to them only a moment before returning it to me. It made my stomach flitter, and not in the good way. “We are Dutch,” he said. He then pointed to the flag held by another member of the crew. “We come from Europe, from a country known as Netherlands.”

 

He snatched the flag from the other man and held it out as if offering candy. A few of the elders touched it, but it was not to them to whom he offered this cloth symbol. It was me. He didn’t seem to care for the Lenape in the slightest. Netherlands had his eye on me the whole time, and he wanted me to take his flag from him. I was hesitant and I shied away. As outgoing as I was, I was not yet ready to know this man or the colony that had come with him.

 

The relationship between the Lenape and the Dutch was rather tense. The colony was quite loud and obnoxious, very disruptive. It was hard to be alone anymore, for it seemed whenever I had any solitude, Netherlands would appear and try to talk to me. He would tell me things about the place from whence he had come. He told me about his spiritual beliefs, about how his people lived.  He’d try to make himself and his colony sound appealing.“You should come and see,” he said.

“I’ve seen from outside,” I replied, feeling a little embarrassed with this particular meeting as I had been trying to empty my bladder. I put myself away and turned to him. “Your people are too loud.” “A boy so young should have a good upbringing. I can give you education, teach you to read and write. I can turn a heathen into a God-fearing boy.” “Heathen?” I gasped, a little surprised. “I am not! We’re not the strange ones here. That’s you.” He arched a brow, his arms crossed and his lips pursed in disapproval. He then reached out a hand, offering it to me. “You should at least try it. Look at you. You are more like us than like them. You could be one of us. I will take you into my care.” “I have a family,” I insisted, staring at his hand with a tense frown. “I’m happy with them. I think I wouldn’t fit in with your people. I think I would be too lonely and unhappy. ”He let out a frustrated sigh, “You are merely delaying the inevitable, Boy. In the end, I always get what I want.” “And, you want me? Why?” “I want to bring up and mold your potential,” he explained. “I want you to call me Father. I want you to call me Sir. You are mine, and you just don’t want to see it yet.”

If I wasn’t uncomfortable before, I certainly was then. I swallowed hard and staggered a bit to put some distance between him and me. It was then I realized that he had put himself between me…and the tribe. My heart leapt up into my throat. Maybe, I would be swift enough, wily enough to get around this tall man.

 

With a quick inhale, I darted by. However, he had been ready. He managed to grab hold of my arm and yank me towards him. I let out a yell and tried to pull away, but his grip was quite firm. “Let go!” I demanded. “Let go!” Still, he held firm and grunted with agitation as he tried to pull me along. This was a time I knew I couldn’t handle the matter myself, and I loudly protested and cried out for help. I hoped and hoped that someone would hear me and come to my aid.

 

We were almost at his settlement when finally the Lenape appeared. They overcame him and, alone, he was unable to fend them off. He released me, and immediately I ran for safety. I knew I could never go anywhere alone anymore, not with Netherlands lurking about like a predator. So long as he and his colony were there, I’d have to watch my back. I was his prey.

It remained that way for quite some time. I never involved Gela or Gelelemend, as I feared they would be harmed at Netherland’s hands. They were young and the buddy system would not have been effective with either of them, no stronger than I. I kept with the older tribal brothers, each one eager to defend me should any case arise. Even with them enveloping me, I could still feel those eyes burning into my soul. I could not tell you if he truly waited in the bushes or if I had become so paranoid of his presence. I just hoped and prayed constantly for these white men to leave, for this boogeyman to depart back from whence he had come.

Duly, my prayers had been heard and my prayers had been answered. A dispute had been sown between the Dutch and the Lenape. Perhaps it was about furs or perhaps it was about weapons. I could not tell you for sure. After all, what would a boy at my age know about the intricate politics of a cross-culture at that time? I awoke one morning later than everyone else. The men were gone for the most part. The air was heavy, and no one had mentioned a large hunting party the night before. I saw Gelelemend standing tense and looking off into the woods. I came alongside him and he acknowledged me only a second with a glance.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Where is everybody?” “They left early in the morning,” he replied. “They’ve not come back yet. They told us to stay behind and not leave.” “Is there danger? Do you think that?”

“I think so,” he said. “They left with weapons. They were fired up.”

We looked back at some of the others. They kept themselves occupied and went about quietly and nervously, pretending that today was no different than any other, though the failure was evident. Even the children knew something was wrong, though they could not put their fingers on exactly what it was. We barely understood, but we remained obedient and pretended duly.

The men returned much later in the day and they hooted and cheered with delight. We filed out from out places to greet them and hear what had happened out there. It felt almost like a dream when one of them cried out, “The white men have gone!”

“Gone?” I repeated. “Where have they gone?” “Away from here!” He replied. “We drove them away!”

At that point, I didn’t care about the how or why and I didn’t need to hear another word. I cheered, I jumped and I danced with the others. That weight had been lifted from my shoulders and those eyes were off my back. The colony was gone! Netherlands was gone! I didn’t have to worry about him anymore! This certainly called for a celebration, and that, we certainly did have.

 

Life had managed to go back to normal. It was bliss. If I didn’t appreciate it before, I certainly did, now that the Dutch had come and been driven out. I loved the Lenape more than anything and grew a whole new respect for them and appreciation for their devotion to me and mine to them. We had overcome a tribulation. I had come to find later that the exchange between the tribe and the Dutch wasn’t merely driving them out, but removing them from existence altogether. Netherlands was no longer my problem, and for seven years, all had become right with the world once more.

 

It was during that time that I had realized a difference between myself and the people I was with. In that seven years, I had developed a bit mentally, but physically, I had gained nothing. I had grown no taller and nothing about me seemed to change. My siblings and the other children that had been my regular companions, they had grown past me, too old for idle games I still enjoyed. To avoid any sense of loneliness, I kept company more and more with the elders, confused and frustrated, yet still hopeful that perhaps there was an explanation for it all.

 

One day, change came upon us again. White men had returned to our home. However, there was something very different about these men. They were quieter and more subdued than the Dutch that had arrived year earlier. The air about them was more pleasant, yet still confusing. The language too was different. These men…they resembled the Dutch, yet they didn’t particularly speak like the Dutch.

 

I watched them as they hurried about to make themselves at home in their own settlement. I kept myself as hidden as possible. I had remembered how Netherlands had been before, and how, from the start, he sought me out. What if these people were no better?

I quickly turned and ran from the settlement. I didn’t want to chance being seen or caught. I hurried back to the tribe and told the elders what I had seen. This time, they had wanted me to stay behind, out of sight of these people. Of course, my curiosity still got the best of me, and it was hard to ignore my impulsiveness. I followed close behind, but I also managed to keep enough distance between us so that I could indeed stay hidden. None of us wanted a repeat of what had happened before.

It felt like hours. Then suddenly, I saw that I was being waved over. The elders had known all along that I was hiding nearby. Verily, they were quite clever, weren’t they? I scrambled clumsily from my hiding place and came to meet them. I stood close once more to the elders and peered up at yet another towering white man. He had golden hair and wore spectacles, a concept I was not yet familiar with. He had a cold face, and yet, it was different from that of Netherlands.

“What manner of man is this?” I asked.

 

“He says he is from a land called Sweden,” the elder replied. “Do not fret, for these fellows are a good manner of people. They wish to explore this land and perhaps make what they call…money.”

“Sweden?” I repeated, squinting suspiciously as I looked towards the tall man. His scowl turned into a small but meaningful smile and he gave a polite and acknowledging nod of his head. Even if he was intimidating, already I felt at ease. He didn’t seem eager or desperate and did not try to lure or bait me in any manner. He was…polite. Even I couldn’t help but to smile back. There was a warmth in him…and I liked it.

 

          I was advised to keep my distance from Sweden, at first. It wasn’t the fear that kept me away, but courtesy. It was a whole week before I just couldn’t help myself any further. I had to see Sweden. As chance would have it, I was free of prying eyes, as I was out to fetch firewood. It was the perfect time to maybe…just sneak a peek?

 

          As I approached the settlement, I saw more ships arriving. There were more people coming to join the Swedish settlers. There was Sweden up front to greet the men and women who had come to make their homes with those that had come so briefly before them. There was a woman who gleamed like a pearl. Sweden seemed to know her rather well, or she was quite impetuous. She had run to him the moment her feet touched solid ground.

 

          She was in a flowing dress and her skin was so pale white. Her hair, it wasn’t even blond like that of Sweden and many of the others, but lighter still, as if she had made her hair from strands of moonbeams, so pale and so silver. It was long, silky, and flowing, almost as if she herself was a mermaid or some other glorious water spirit. She was beautiful, and Sweden, though stern and sullen in general, seemed very pleased to see her and accepted her skipping and embrace casually, but happily.

 

          I hadn’t realized my slow progression towards them. It wasn’t until Sweden looked right at me and offered his hand that I registered just how close I had gotten. I wanted to apologize for intruding, but nothing came out. Instead, I instinctively took his hand and he motioned between the lady and me.

 

          “Oh, isn’t he a little darling?” The woman said. Her accent was a little different from his, though she spoke his language.

          “He is New Sweden,” Sweden introduced. It caught me by surprised and I looked up at him with confusion for a moment. I dismissed it just as quickly, not that I really had a chance to question him. His lady friend had reached over and squeezed my cheeks with a squeal. “Ah, he is adorable!” She cheered, her cheeks growing slightly rosy. “Uhm…hello?” I forced out through my manipulated face. “Are…you…Sweden’s wife?”  She blushed a bit further and stepped back, casting eyes at the taller man. He took charge from there. “She and these people have come from Finland to join us in this New World.”  “Finland,” I repeated and looked to the woman again. “You are very beautiful, Finland.”

 

          She was practically glowing with happiness. She was so friendly and sociable, a real contrast to the very calm and simple demeanor of Sweden, and yet complimenting it so perfectly. My eyes scanned passed her though and towards the grand ship on which she and her people had arrived. It was beautiful! I couldn’t keep my eyes off of it, but I tried to shift them back to Sweden and Finland to be polite.

 

          To be honest, I wasn’t fooling anybody. They had followed my gaze to the boat and they looked knowingly at each other with gentle smiles. I could feel his hand on my back and I forced myself to look towards him.

          “Would you like to take a look around on it?” He asked.

 

          I wonder how wide my eyes grew in that moment. I thought they would fall out of my face. My face hurt from the size of the smile. “Can I? Do you mean it? Are you sure?”

 

          He simply nodded, a man of few words that he was. Nothing else needed to be said. I couldn’t even form coherent words through my excitement. Finland and Sweden took me onto the massive ship. I had never been on anything this big before! I didn’t realize just how big boats could even be! It didn’t end there, though! Not only did I see the ship, its galley, its deck, its quarters and more, but the small crew was happy to appease the curiosity in me and lift the anchor that held it fast. The boat sailed just offshore and allowed me to see the great expanse of sea while practically standing on it. They also took me along the river they had named after the current Swedish princess: the Christina. At least, that is what Sweden had told me as we sailed along. It was glorious! I never wanted it to end! However, it finally did and the boat returned to its place. Finland, Sweden, and the small crew escorted me once more to the shore and the bustling settlement.

 

          I had learned so much about them, the ship, and how to sail it in that day. It was so full of so much learning and I was a sponge at their mercy. I soaked up everything with great delight and so ravenously. The sky was pink, orange, and purple with twilight before I realized how long I had spent there. It had been the whole day! I hurried back to the tribe. It was as if not a breath was taken to break from the run to the speaking. Immediately, I babbled incessantly and excitedly about the day I had experienced and the many things I had learned. I spoke so fast that I could see a few of them quietly mocking me.

          “I’m happy for you,” one of the elders replied, though he probably only just barely followed along the whole thing. “It sounds like you had a really good time.”  “Oh, yes!” I cheered. “It was fabulous! I feel so alive!”  “Where’s the firewood?” Came the question from another. I stopped instantly from my spinning and hopping and whatever else I was doing in my joy and peered slowly and guiltily over my shoulder. “Oh, yeah… That’s what I was supposed to be doing, wasn’t I?” I twirled my foot in the dirt and lowered my gaze. “Sorry.” Though, rather than a lecture and scolding, I was met instead by amused laughter.

 

          It took no coaxing to get me into the settlement of Swedes and Finns. I took such delight among them. I had even grown comfortable enough to stay with them for days at a time, nestled warmly in the home of Sweden and Finland and treated as if I was their own child. I learned as much as I could from them: the trades, the languages, and the customs. I even sampled their faith.

 

          The moment had inevitably come when I initiated the awkward and called them by parental names. I had been tucked in one night, tired and content. “Mama,” had slipped so casually and naturally from my lips. Then, I grew frightened and panicked by my boldness. Finland had indeed been taken by surprise by it. However, she recovered quickly and did her best to calm me and assure me that all was alright. She didn’t mind. She rather liked it, for she had no children of her own.

 

          Sweden had been just as surprised when I had dropped the “Papa” title on him, and just as caringly, he assured me that he didn’t mind either. I felt a twinge of guilt sometimes, seeing these new people as parents while the people who had cared for me while I lived among the Lenape were pushed further and further away unconsciously. Their children were growing up, and I was still young. The experience was old with them, and I didn’t want to burden them with this strange delay, and Sweden and Finland took great delight in it, for they…were like me.

 

          Even they could not fully explain this strange phenomenon to me in a way I could understand. I wondered if they fully understood it themselves. We were not like the other people of our respective lands.

 

          “New Sweden,” Papa said, sure to get my attention before he continued with his stern voice. “You may be small now, but you’ll get bigger one day. The people on your land will look to you. You are their world, even if you do not fully understand this, yet.”

“I’m afraid that I don’t,” I replied with a frown. I disliked it when I could not grasp something I wanted to learn. “You will draw your strength from them,” he continued. “And they will draw theirs from you.”

 

          I believe I could have been happy for decades if not the rest of my life with Sweden and Finland. The contentment was a good consolation for the gaps forming elsewhere in my life, and it made it a little less painful. Pain? Ah, yes. That. The contentment was only temporary, after all.

 

          The year was 1655. That’s when my world began to fall apart. That small taste of bliss was fast fading and those good times of days long passed would stay there…in the past. The grand ships returned once again with another loud and obnoxious crew. That familiar man was among them, and the dread was like a heavy weight in the pit of my stomach. I avoided going near the settlements for fear of seeing him, for fear that Netherlands would lay eyes on me. It would be a bad idea for him to be close to me in any way, yet it hurt to keep myself away from the parents I had gained. I loved them and I missed them. I worried, and I had every reason, it appeared, to do so.

 

          Sweden and Finland, they tried so hard to hide it from me. I could tell, though. I could see how tattered and worn they got bit by bit on those few times I was able to see them that year. Netherlands was not too pleased to see them there…on land he believed was his. On…my land! The land of New Sweden!

 

          “I’m fine,” Finland told me, her voice so tired, yet still with a forced amount of sweetness for my sake.

          “It doesn’t hurt,” Sweden insisted when I worried over his scrapes and bruises. I would do my best to believe them, at least pretend for their sakes. They, after all, lied and pretended for mine. Couldn’t I give them at least that?

 

          In reality, I didn’t buy it. Sweden was tough, as were his people. Finland was tough, as were her people. Netherlands had been driven away once before by the might of the Lenape, but he was a man who learned from his mistakes. He was prepared, and it paid off. I knew that they would fall to him, and they knew it too. Perhaps that was why they never expressly tried to comfort me with the empty “Everything will be okay” coddles and coos. They couldn’t bear to make a promise they could not keep. I was heartbroken, but I was relieved that it was a promise they had not made, because I too knew they could not keep it. That was not how I wanted to remember them.

 

         Still, they fought hard against him anyway. They fought with every ounce of energy they had. They would hold their ground and they would fight to keep me, New Sweden. Even when it was clearly hopeless, they fought on anyway. I knew…they loved me too much to just give up without trying everything they could. The power had been great with them, for they managed to fight against Netherlands and the Dutch he had brought with him for months and months on end. In the end, however…the point…was moot.

The last day came. I remember it so vividly, as if it were only yesterday. The scars it left behind on me burn to this day when I think of it. It was a bold choice of mine on that fateful day to step into what was left of the Swedish fort where, not too long ago, the peaceful hustle and bustle would occur. Now, it was laid almost completely to waste. I ached all over just from the sorrow alone. The lands that Sweden had kept…the forts he had built from here and the lands further north in his colony’s expanse…it was all gone. This was the last, and it was soon to fall.

 

       “New Sweden!” Finland cried out as she ran to me as any worried mother to a child in danger. She hurried to me and wrapped her arms about me, her platinum hair tainted with smears of mud, blood, and the residue of black gunpowder. “You shouldn’t be here! It’s not safe!” I clung to her desperately, “I’m scared!” The nerve. Even then I knew I had no right to say such a thing, since I could hide in the woods. Here they were, fighting the Dutch out in the open. Still, she did her best to coo softly and bring me some form of ease. I could still hear the battle muffled all about us, but I pushed that reality, no matter how dire, from my mind and did my best to take in that comforting scent that was my mother. It too had been tainted with the horrid additions to her person, but even a tainted smell that was her was better than not smelling her sweet scent at all.

 

        “What is he doing here?!” I heard Sweden shout. I’m not sure from which direction he had come, but he was upon us in a moment. I quickly grabbed onto him and held him desperately. I wanted both of them in my hands. It didn’t matter, did it? The time was here, and we all knew it. “Please, don’t leave me,” I begged as my voice hitched and caught in my throat and the tears burned and blurred them momentarily from my vision. I knew deep down that it was useless to make such a demand of them, but I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t bring myself to accept what was plainly the last day we would be together. “You shouldn’t have come,” Sweden tried to say with a level of coldness. I could see right passed it. There was a softness and concern in there that betrayed him.  “Mama, Papa, what is going to happen to me?” I asked. “I don’t want you to go away.” A loud shot rang out into the air. Of all the battle sounds, that one shot seemed to ring out louder than the rest. I sucked in a breath and my eyes went wide as I felt the burn in my shoulder. I wasn’t even sure how to react. I was just frozen in the shock. “No!” Finland cried as I dropped to my knees. She threw herself upon me as a shield and held my head close to her bosom as the blood seeped from the wound that had been made.

          “You!” Sweden growled as the heavy footsteps came closer.

          “It’s over,” that familiar voice replied. “This fort has fallen. New Sweden is down.”

          “Don’t hurt him!” Finland pleaded in a shrill and desperate voice. “Don’t hurt my baby!”

          “We can play this out until it’s most final end,” Netherlands suggested. I peered over my shoulder, and saw him raise his musket to Sweden’s face. He stood so defiant, even in the face of his own loss, eying beyond the barrel and into the cold eyes of the other man. “The choice is yours. There’s nothing left but for me to cross my T’s and dot my I’s. You have responsibilities elsewhere. Will it fall for this puny thing?”

          Sweden swallowed hard as he contemplated it. There was nothing here for him to fight for anymore. There were his colonists strewn about the ground, dead where they had fallen. The few survivors were suffering from a slew of injuries. Some had been set on fire. Some had been shot. I knew the choice he would have to make, whether he wanted to do it or not, but it hurt no less when he finally lowered his head. In the next instant, he was taken into custody by Dutch soldiers. Finland was yanked away from me, screaming and flailing in her maternal rage. She too was taken away. I could only assume they’d be shipped off back to the lands from whence they had originally come. That left me there alone with him. There I was, on my knees, broken, and watching as my world was taken from me.

          A hand then grabbed hard onto my other shoulder. 

 

TO BE CONTINUED!