The beginning of discontent

Two years James De Lancey acted as Governor, and the citizens were really sorry when Admiral Sir Charles Hardy was sent to take his place.

Sir Charles was not slow to see and to admit that while he was a good sailor, he did not make a good Governor, so after a year he resigned, and the province was once more left to the care of De Lancey.

At this time there was much being said about the need for schools, and for many years plans had been under way for building a college in the city.

Money had been raised by means of lotteries which were popular and lawful then and finally the college was established. It was called King’s College. It is still in existence, but is now Columbia University. A tablet at West Broadway and Murray Street tells that the college once stood close by.

It was near this time that William Walton, a very rich merchant, built the finest house that the city had yet known. This was in Queen Street, not a great way from the Stadt Huys, and the furniture and fittings were in keeping with the elegance of the exterior. It was so fine that the fame of it spread to England, where it was spoken of as a proof that the colonists were very, very rich indeed. This house stood for 129 years. When it was torn down it had become a tenement that showed scarcely a trace of its early grandeur. Queen Street is now Pearl Street and the building numbered 326 is on the site of the famous old house.

There was another war with the French now, and four expeditions were sent out against them. On one of these a young officer with the troops from Virginia distinguished himself. He was cool and daring in the midst of battle. The soldiers, who were themselves fearless fighters, strove to be as brave as he. This officer was only twenty-three years old, and his name was George Washington. He had a glorious career before him.

There came from England in the year following this a burly, blustering man, who had been appointed commander-in-chief of the British forces in America. This Lord Loudoun very soon proved to everybody’s satisfaction except his own that he was not fit to be a commander. The people of New York detested him heartily, and were glad when after three years he was recalled because he was not successful in the war against the French. The new commander-in-chief did better. He was General Jeffrey Amherst, and under him the English were gradually successful. Town after town held by the French fell, until the capture of Montreal, in 1760, secured to the English the conquest of Canada, and so ended a conflict which had for many years drained the energies of the colonists.

Soon after this Lieutenant-Governor James De Lancey was found dead in his library-chair at his country home (now a closely built-up part of the city at Delancey Street, near the Bowery). In a few days his body was taken from there, followed by a great concourse of people, and buried under the centre aisle of Trinity Church. Up to the last day of his life De Lancey remained much beloved.

The death of De Lancey left the care of the colony to Cadwallader Colden, whom you will remember as the friend of Governor Hunter. He had been so long concerned in public affairs that he knew how to please. Before the year was ended England’s King, George II., died. When the news reached New York, the city was draped with mourning. But in another week all signs of sadness had disappeared in honor of the new King, George III.

Then General Robert Monckton, who had been in command of the English forces on Staten Island, was made Governor. He was a young man, somewhat careless, but, as was the case with all the new governors, he was welcomed with glad shouts of approval.

England at this time needed men in her navy, and the captains of war-ships were in the habit of boarding any vessel that sailed from the colonies in America and taking sailors by force to serve on the English ships. This increased a bitter feeling that the colonists were beginning to have against England. The city had now 14,000 inhabitants and was in quite a flourishing condition.

After two years Monckton tired of the cares of government, and sailed away to England, with never a thought of the wild scenes that were to take place in the land he left behind.