Navesink; A Historical Novel
1657 Grover Returns
“Goede morgen Gouverneur”
Pieter Stuyvesant had been awake when Sjors, his slave servant, entered his room.
Stuyvesant always woke up at dawn and in June it was light hours before his daily routine started. When he rolled out of his bed Sjors was already holding the bedpan. With his one foot on the floor, Stuyvesant pissed into the bedpan while Sjors held it. He was starting to feel his age. He was happy that he did not have to get up in the night to relieve himself, but the waiting bedpan was a welcome benefit of his status in the morning.
He put on the clothes Sjors handed to him. Once he had put on his breaches and jacket, Sjors handed him his wooden leg. The straps to his leg were already attached to his belt. All he had to do was fasten his belt and he stood up out of bed. While he tightened his belt Sjors clipped his sword to his belt.
The leg and sword provided him with a level of comfort that he did not have in bed. He did not like the idea of being only partially mobile. He kept a crutch next to his bed so he could move around without the leg in case of a nighttime emergency, but the crutch reduced him to only being able to use one hand for other activities.
As a soldier, in the back of his mind he always worried about nightly assault and while he also kept his sword next to his bed, using a sword while relying on a crutch was pointless. All things considered, the wooden leg was only a small handicap in his daily life. He could fight with it. It provided enough stability to effectively swing his sword and he could even do a pretty fast hobble on it when needed.
It would hurt when he used it too much, and he was careful not to let it chafe. Chafe could result in infection and if he lost any of his leg to gangrene he would no longer be able to use a wooden leg and would have to rely on a crutch.
Pieter Stuyvesant was a planner, always balancing the options. Play the hand you are dealt, but play it as well as you can. At the moment he had quite a large and complex hand. Almost too many cards to hold and a lot of low cards and no aces.
From the moment he woke he had been thinking about one strange card he had been dealt last night.
There had been a dinner with some friends, some traders and their wives, some of his officers and Lady Deborah Moody. After the other dinner guests had left, he had relaxed on the porch of his house with Lady Moody. Lady Moody was staying at his house. Gravesend was too far to return to late at night. They had been chatting about general and innocuous gossip when Lady Moody changed the tone of her voice and moved her chair closer to Stuyvesant.
“I am sorry Governor, but I think I need to raise the subject of James Grover once again.
“Verdomme Deborah, I have to lock that ungrateful traitor up, or better, hang him. He is too much of a nuisance.”
Lady Moody brought out her stock argument: “Pieter, better the enemy you know.”
She went on, “I think we can manage him, and if we act rashly against him, others will think we are afraid, and it will cause the people loyal to us to switch sides. Right now, most people in Gravesend think he is nothing but a nuisance that can only hurt them in their regular lives. I happen to have one example of how it benefits us right here.”
Lady Moody pulled out a sealed letter from the pocket in her skirt and handed it over to Stuyvesant.
In the candle light he could only discern it was a heavily sealed letter, but he could not figure out the owner of the seals. There was no addressee on the outside.
“Whose is this?”
“The seals are John Thurloe’s”
“That slimeball? But who became the owner of it? Wait, this was another thing that Grover brought back?”
“Yes, somebody got her hands on this and handed it to me.”
“Who is that spy of yours?”
“I really don’t think you need to know, but I am certain the letter was Grover’s. Right now, I don’t know if he knows we have it, but I have a pretty good idea what is in it.”
“So what is in it?”
“When Grover returned earlier this year, he kept very low at first but slowly started to reassemble his group of rebel rousers. As you know, I asked a dear friend of mine to ingratiate herself to this group, and now she is firmly considered to be part of his group. In those meetings Grover has shown the letter from Cromwell that encourages the English to rise up against you, but you already have a copy of that letter and also of Thurloe’s “Brief Narration”. My friend, who is very clever, asked Grover how their countrymen could distinguish between those Gravesenders who had been allied to England and those who had been allied to you once a war starts. Grover then said that he had been provided a letter of passage and assignment by Thurloe and Cromwell that made him the official representative in Nieuw Amsterdam and that he would be able to identify those who supported England and those who supported Holland.”
Stuyvesant raised the letter: “And you think this is that letter?”
“My friend found it in Grover’s house and handed it to me yesterday. And now it is yours.”
“This would be enough for me to hang Grover.”
“Maybe, but maybe not. We don’t know what the letter says. It may be just a carefully worded passport, and passports are not illegal. We are pretty isolated here so your suggestion at justice may work for a while, but I don’t think it will serve us. Without the letter he will have little official power if my countrymen decide to take over here.”
Stuyvesant grunted and stared into the darkness beyond his porch, “Without better support from the company that is only a matter of time.”
He turned back to Lady Moody, “When he finds the letter missing will he ask Thurloe for another copy?”
“I am sure he will try, but who knows if Thurloe wants to send another letter, politics moves too fast.”
Stuyvesant shifted forward in his rocker and stood up.
“Lady Moody you are never dull. Thank you for this little present. I am not sure yet what to do with it. I think I will sleep on it. Will I see you for breakfast tomorrow morning?”
“Yes you will.”
Lady Moody also stood up, Stuyvesant offered his arm and together they went inside.
After getting dressed the next morning Stuyvesant went to his office, opened his lockbox and took out the letter. He examined the seals, reached for his letter opener but changed his mind and returned the letter to the lockbox.
When he entered the dining room Lady Moody was eating some berries and cream.
“How are those berries, Lady Moody?”
“Perfect. Did you sleep well?”
“As perfect as your berries. Will you be leaving right after breakfast?
“That is my plan Pieter”
“Why don’t you and I take a little walk in the garden before you begin that carriage ride. Maybe there are some additional berries for your ride home?”
“Good idea Pieter. A little morning walk will loosen my old joints before I bump home.”
The dew was already drying in the rapidly warming day. In the distance people were moving around, Lady Moody’s carriage was waiting in the driveway, a few boats were moving on the river, but there was nobody in the garden.
“I hope nobody listened in on us last night.”
“You do not trust your staff Pieter?”
“Slaves can never be trusted.”
“I feel that neither can free men and women be trusted. I want you to know that I am deeply disappointed and embarrassed in the false loyalties of some of the people that I brought to Gravesend.”
“Don’t worry about it. Some of the Dutch here are no better.”
Stuyvesant made a sharp right turn onto a narrow path between some corn and strawberries and quickly glanced around to make sure the coast was still clear, “I decided not to open the letter. I don’t think the content can be of much service here. I will send the letter with a full report to the Company in Holland, the letter may be of greater service to them in negotiations with England.” He chuckled, “Thurloe almost certainly will be part of the negotiation party. To present it unopened in negotiations may have a powerful effect.”
Stuyvesant stopped Lady Moody and held on to her arm, “Are you sure your spy is reliable?”
“I am sure.”
“Tell me Lady Moody, who is your spy?”
“I cannot tell you.”
“I think you should, and I think I know anyway. I also have informers. Is it Penelope Stout?”
Lady Moody pulled her arm away and took half a step back, “How do you know? Who else knows?”
“Actually it was a guess, but I see I guessed right. It was rather simple, I like the Stouts and I know you like them and I know Penelope is very very smart. I know they have aligned with Grover after you awarded Duisman the property the Stouts had acquired East of Gravesend. Only you and Penelope could have worked up such a devilish scheme to make it look you are no longer friends.”
“Pieter, you are now one of a group of four people who know the truth. I beg of you, never let anyone else know. I provided the Stouts with the money to buy the property from the indians knowing that Duisman had already bought it from the indians before them. I knew I would have to be the judge on it and ruled against the Stouts. Do you think others already know?”
“It all went so quickly and the Stouts put up such a good show, I doubt it. I really do doubt it. I now know you can make up with them at any time and switch sides again, but I hope you can convince them to stay on. Can I help with some funds to keep them close to Grover?
“I don’t think that will be necessary, they are doing quite well themselves. Being aligned with Grover and his con-conspirators has not reduced their income.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes before Lady Moody spoke again, “I actually feel better because if there were to be any fighting you can make sure no harm comes to the Stouts. Pieter I so hope there will be no fighting. Look at this beautiful place. There is so much here for everyone to enjoy. Let’s not cover it with blood.”
“I will try to avoid that, Lady Moody. I also love this place, but I am afraid the rest of the world will not let us be in peace. Let me help you in the carriage, my office awaits.”
Stuyvesant watched Lady Moody’s carriage roll down the driveway and waved to her before she disappeared from view.
He then turned and walked towards the house calling for his secretary. Managing just this small Colony was a lot of work.
It was also the last time he saw Lady Moody. She passed away later that year.
ENDNOTES:
Here the authors took some liberties with the actual history. Somehow Stuyvesant discovered the existence of Grover’s letter and demanded its surrender. Grover apparently did, but the details are rather fuzzy, and it became difficult to place it in a narrative that stayed relatively contained. In the story the letter was delivered to Stuyvesant by Lady Moody and the Stouts become spies for Stuyvesant and Moody. Undoubtedly that type of legerdemain and spying was occurring at that time. The English were gradually pressing against Dutch Control of Nieuw Netherlands and, by hook or by crook, Stuyvesant was trying to keep control without receiving any significant support from the Netherlands and the West India Company.