The Epic of New York City

by Edward Robb Ellis

  Lovelace also began the first postal service in America. Because events in Europe influenced affairs in New York, the governor decided that news from abroad must be received as quickly as possible. Because Boston lies nearer to Europe than this city does, Lovelace laid out the first mail route between these two communities. For the first postman he chose a fat but hardy horseman, named John Archer. On January 22, 1673, Archer leaped onto his horse just outside Fort James at the tip of Manhattan. He rode north up Broadway to the present City Hall Park, angled northeast to the Bowery, and headed north to Harlem. The people there watched excitedly as Archer strode into a tavern for a draught of the famous Harlem beer. Then, flicking foam from his lips, Archer sprang back into the saddle and crossed the Bronx River on a bridge erected by Lovelace. Marking his trail-blazing route with slashes on tree trunks and using boats to cross other rivers and inlets, the courier wound his way through Connecticut, into Massachusetts, and on to Boston. Archer’s ride was the origin of the famous Old Post Road, or Boston Post Road.

  At first this service ran only once a month, and few letters were exchanged. Then, as New Yorkers became accustomed to it, they deposited ever more dispatches in a locked box in the colonial secretary’s City Hall office. Whenever Archer returned from Boston, he headed for a coffeehouse. People flocked there to watch with delight as he dumped the contents of his mail pouch on a broad table.

  The Dutch government had let Peter Stuyvesant leave Holland and return to New York. In February, 1672, the grizzled former governor died on his Bowery estate, now fronting the Boston Post Road. His body was interred in a vault in a chapel a few steps from his house. Almost immediately, family servants whispered that they saw his ghost prowling about the farm. Later, when streets were cut through this part of the city, neighbors vowed that a tap-tap-tapping, as if from his peg leg, emanated from his tomb.

  One month after Stuyvesant’s death the Third Anglo-Dutch War erupted in Europe. Like previous Continental wars, it affected New York City.

  King Louis XIV of France wanted to extend his empire, destroy Dutch trade rivalry, and crush Holland for sheltering political writers who criticized him. To achieve all this, the French monarch sought help from his cousin, Charles II of England. By promising to give Charles more French mistresses, enough money to dispense with Parliaments, and 200,000 pounds a year as long as the war lasted, Louis secretly won the English king’s consent to join his attack on the Dutch and all their possessions.

  In March, 1672, British ships swooped down on Dutch vessels in the Mediterranean, and French soldiers invaded the Netherlands. In partial retaliation the Dutch outfitted an expedition in Holland to recapture New Netherland. This was done secretly. Commanders of the new Dutch fleet were given a code, the figure 163 standing for New York. Finally, 19 men-of-war, carrying full crews and 1,600 soldiers, left Holland for the New World.

  Only now did the British publicly declare war on the Dutch. A copy of Charles’ formal declaration was sent to New York, and Governor Lovelace had it read aloud in front of the fort and City Hall. In a covering message the king warned the governor to place the city in a posture of defense. Lovelace set men to work repairing the fort. He recalled British soldiers from Albany, Kingston, and Delaware. Even so, he was able to raise only 330 fighting men.

  Several ships owned by New York merchants were captured in European waters. After that, all eastbound vessels sailed in convoys for mutual protection. Navigation was restricted on the Hudson River, and New York’s commerce fell off so steeply that local merchants found themselves on the verge of bankruptcy.

  Time passed. No menacing Dutch fleet appeared. Lovelace relaxed and failed to complete repairs on the fort. He took a short trip to the Bronx to settle a question about the new postal route. There, from a swift-riding messenger, he received word that a Dutch armada had been sighted off Sandy Hook. The governor hurried back to the city, but unable to confirm this report, he decided it was a false alarm. And since Indians threatened British towns elsewhere in the colony, Lovelace foolishly ordered many of his soldiers back to their outposts. This left only eighty warriors in Fort James. Then the governor left town again, this time for New England to straighten out still other postal problems. He placed the city in the hands of the sheriff, Captain John Manning.

  A second dispatch rider caught up with Lovelace at Hartford and reported that a Dutch fleet had anchored in the Narrows just below New York City. This time the news was true.

  Since Governor Lovelace could not get back in time to take charge, responsibility fell on Captain Manning. However, the fort wasn’t finished, only a handful of soldiers was available, and the townspeople were divided among themselves. Englishmen burned with indignation at the thought that they might fall into the hands of the enemy, while Dutchmen welcomed what they regarded as a liberation force. Some local Dutchmen rowed out to the Dutch ships to reveal the fort’s weaknesses; others spiked the guns set up in front of City Hall.

  Under a flag of truce two Dutch admirals sent an officer to Captain Manning with the demand that he surrender. “We have come to take the place which is our own,” they said, “and our own we will have.” Manning tried to stall until Governor Lovelace could return to the city. But after an exchange of several notes the Dutch ships edged closer to Manhattan. This brought them within range of the fort. Now the admirals gave Manning only half an hour to make up his mind. There was a nervous upending of hourglasses in the fort and aboard the ships. The period of grace was extended. At last the impatient Dutch fired broadside into the fort. The defenders fired back, but to no avail. After perhaps 700 shots had been traded, several English soldiers being killed and wounded, 600 Dutch soldiers landed on the shore of the Hudson River just behind the site of the present Trinity Church and deployed south toward the fort.

  New York City surrendered to the Dutch on August 9, 1673. Once again the tricolored flag of the Dutch republic waved over the fort.

  In Holland, meantime, the startling successes of the French invaders led to a revolt among the Dutch people. Fortunately, they found a leader in young William, the third Prince of Orange, making him their stadholder (chief executive officer), their captain general, and their admiral for life. William’s mother was the daughter of Charles I of England; thus, William was a nephew of the Duke of York, whose American colony had just been recaptured by the Dutch.

  New York City was renamed New Orange in honor of William of Orange. Administration of the city and province was not returned to the heartless Dutch West India Company but was assumed by the Dutch government itself. A Dutch captain, named Anthony Colve, was made governor-general of the province, which once again became New Netherland.

  When Lovelace got back to the city, he found that he not only had lost his title and power but was also in financial trouble. A speculator, Lovelace had bought much real estate in and around town without always paying cash. Now creditors fell on him, and he was arrested for debt. At first the Dutch authorities said that he could leave within six weeks after he had paid everything he owned. When he was unable to make restitution, though, they let him sail sooner. For losing the province with its three cities and thirty villages, Lovelace was severely reprimanded by Charles II and the Duke of York, and all his large British estates were confiscated.

  John Lawrence was mayor of New York when the Dutch retook the city. Thomas Willett, the first mayor, had served two divided terms, the first in 1665 and the second in 1667. The Dutch seized all of Willett’s New York property, so he moved to Rhode Island, where he helped found the town of Swansey. He died in 1674, and the remains of New York’s first mayor lie today in Rhode Island soil.

  The government and the people of Holland were eager to end the Third Anglo-Dutch War. At the very least they hoped to stop British attacks so that they could turn their full military might against the French invaders. Weary of the carnage in their homeland, they were willing to sacrifice their overseas colony of New Netherland. In December, 1673, the Dutch government informed th
e English king that it wanted to negotiate peace, offering him New Netherland as bait.

  The Treaty of Westminster, signed in February, 1674, ended hostilities between England and Holland. Under its terms the Dutch agreed to restore New Netherland and the city of New Orange to the English.

  First word of the treaty was brought here by two men from Connecticut, and as a reward for bearing bad news, they were cast into dungeons. New York Dutchmen gathered on street corners to denounce the States General and the Prince of Orange. One angry citizen shrilled that the Dutch would oppose submission to the English “so long as they could stand with one leg and fight with one hand.”

  Despite this uproar and despite his own dejection, Governor Colve received orders from the Dutch government to transfer the city to the proper English representatives. King Charles II gave the Duke of York a new patent to his former colony of New York. The duke appointed Major Edmund Andros his new governor. On November 1, Andros arrived here aboard a frigate. Governor Colve asked for a few days in which to complete plans for the transfer of power.

  The last entry in the court records of New Orange, the last statement ever written by a Dutch official in this city, reads as follows: “On the 10th November, Anno 1674, the Province of New Netherland is surrendered by Governor Colve to Governor Major Edmund Andros in behalf of His Majesty of Great Britain.”

  For fifteen months the city had been called New Orange. Now, for the final time, it was given the name New York City.

  Chapter 5

  THE LEISLER REBELLION

  IN A CEREMONY held in front of City Hall the public executioner broke Captain John Manning’s sword over his head for surrendering the city to the Dutch. Thus disgraced, the Englishman retired to his estate on what we now call Welfare Island.

  The very year that the British recaptured the city, the Dutch West India Company was dissolved. Later it was revived under the same name, but it never again influenced New York.

  During the next 109 years of their rule the British did little to promote education, never establishing free schools. The public school system inaugurated by the Dutch withered under the new regime. From time to time, however, various churches set up primary and secondary schools. On the other hand, slavery increased far more rapidly under the British than under the Dutch, and eventually this brought tragedy and disgrace to the city.

  Many rich merchants lived here. As early as 1674, 94 burghers had estates valued at more than 1,000 guilders each. Twenty-two estates were worth between 5,000 and 10,000 guilders each. Hendrick Philipsen, the richest man in town, had assets of 80,000 guilders. In that era, planters worth 500 guilders were considered wealthy. About this time rich people began using silverware, although forks did not become common until after 1700.

  Surrounded by abundant natural resources, New Yorkers were stupidly wasteful—chopping down trees, for example, with no thought of conservation. Windmills remained popular after the British took over. For a while the Boston Post Road was allowed to languish because fears of the Dutch had vanished and the French had not yet become a menace.

  From the beginning of the city’s history down to the present, men in the same line of work settled in the same part of town. Shoemakers, to name one group, congregated in Broad Street. Using the bark of trees for their tanning process, they converted animal skins into leather for shoes, boots, harnesses, men’s breeches, and waistcoats and into the leather petticoats and jerkins worn by women. Their tanning pits emitted an acrid stench. At last the tanneries were declared a public nuisance and driven outside the town limits. Four shoemakers bought property just south of the present Manhattan end of the Brooklyn Bridge and set up shop there, only to be driven farther north about twenty years later.

  The first Britain governor after the recapture of the city was Major Edmund Andros, not quite thirty-eight years of age. The life-span then was far shorter than it is now, and men rose to eminence at an early age. Another favorite of the royal Stuarts, Andros was a man of unblemished character, firm purpose, administrative ability, energy, and zeal. Like his predecessor Nicolls, he spoke French and Dutch as fluently as English. Andros belonged to the Church of England. The lieutenant governor, Anthony Brockholls, was a Roman Catholic.

  Andros got off to a good start. Once again the Duke’s Laws were proclaimed in effect. The new governor did not pack all public offices with Englishmen but parceled out these positions among English, Dutch, and French citizens. Unable to straighten out the colony’s chaotic currency, Andros did succeed in nearly every other reform he instituted. He reorganized the militia, repaired the fort, strengthened the harbor defenses, increased trade, beautified the city, and pacified the Indians.

  In 1676 the Great Dock was constructed along Water Street from Whitehall Slip to Coenties Slip. For the next seventy-four years it was the only dock in the city. Seven public wells, two in the middle of Broadway, were drilled, householders near each well being assessed one-half the cost of their maintenance. In 1677 Andros ordered work begun on the first insane asylum in the province of New York. In Dutch days the streets were never lighted at night. Andros decreed in 1679 that on moonless nights every seventh house must display a lantern containing a lighted candle. The expense of the streetlights was divided among the seven property owners adjacent to each lantern.

  A city-appointed chimney sweep roamed the streets, crying aloud that his services were available to householders. For the first time the city began to support paupers, and the first welfare case was “Top Knot” Betty, who got three shillings a week. Peaches and apples grew in abundance, but the Dutch drank imported rum or brandy, which they called kill-devil. In 1679 a visiting missionary wrote with a sense of awe: “In passing through this island we sometimes encountered such a sweet smell in the air that we stood still.” Cora was New York’s principal crop for many years. Imported wheat, however, did so well in the local soil that raising wheat became even more profitable than growing corn or trading furs.

  To make flour from wheat, the grain must be ground, sifted, and blended. At first the Dutch ground the wheat by hand; later, by windmills. Under the English, horse mills began to displace windmills. The Dutch had created a demand for flour, not only within the colony but also in the West Indies and elsewhere. Unfortunately, it was of an uneven quality and could not be produced in great quantities. Governor Andros now realized that not even the most honest and able miller, toiling in isolation, could produce standardized flour in sufficient bulk to meet the growing demand.

  New York flour already was popular, but Andros decided to improve its manufacture and packaging by creating a monopoly. In 1678 he granted a few leading citizens the exclusive right to bolt all flour and bake all bread and hardtack. Bolting means sifting with a cloth screen or sieve. The milling process separates the flour portion of the wheat kernel from the germ, bran, and most of the harder parts of the endosperm.

  This monopoly at the bottleneck of the Hudson valley wheatlands made New York City the granary of America. Cries of outrage arose from neighboring towns and people hurt by the monopoly, but it resulted in the city’s first great business boom. In the long run the entire colony benefited, for as the improved flour created ever wider demand, there was a need for more farms to grow grain and more ships to transport the finished product overseas. In the city itself the manufacture of flour became the leading industry, with almost two-thirds of the citizens dependent on it in one way or another. New buildings were erected, land values increased, shipbuilding flourished, more beef cattle were slaughtered, and city revenues rose.

  During Andros’ regime and that of his successor a series of Bolting Laws was passed. Although some were repealed, amended, or ignored, they increased the city’s wealth threefold over the sixteen years that the monopoly lasted. Throughout this period other colonies tried in vain to overcome New York’s lead in the flour industry. However, they forged ahead in other ways.

  Boston, founded in 1630, or 6 years after New York City, was growing fast. Philadelphia
, laid out in 1682, was 58 years younger than New York. When Philadelphia was founded, New York City contained about 2,000 white persons, plus Negroes and slaves. Three years later Philadelphia held 2,500 inhabitants, while the whole province of Pennsylvania boasted more than 8,000 colonists. Thus, Pennsylvania grew as fast in three years as New York had grown in a half century. Pennsylvania’s greater religious tolerance played a part in this growth.

  New York had many religious sects, and not only did they quarrel with one another, but disputes also raged among members of the same sects. In 1678 the Reverend Charles Wolley arrived to become the chaplain at Fort James. The only English minister in the entire province, he kept a diary and noted with chagrin the religious acrimony prevailing here. Two other pastors had not spoken to each other for six years. One was German-born Bernhardus Frazius, a Lutheran. The other was Dutch-born Wilhelmus Van Nieuwenhuysen, a Calvinist.

  One evening Wolley asked both men to his house without letting either know the other had been invited. “At their first interview,” Wolley recorded, “they stood so appalled as if the ghosts of Luther and Calvin had suffered a transmigration.” The English pastor quickly suggested that the opponents converse in Latin, and if either uttered one word in Dutch, he would be penalized a bottle of Madeira wine. Wolley hoped to dilute their hostility in alcohol and a neutral tongue. The dumbfounded Lutheran and Calvinist nodded agreement. Then Wolley uncorked a bottle of wine, started their tongues wagging, and discovered that the Calvinist had a taste for spirits. Before the evening ended, the erstwhile enemies were chattering in Latin so rapidly that Wolley could not keep up with them.

  New Yorkers of all faiths were terrified in the fall of 1680 by the appearance of an enormous comet that streaked through the sky for more than five weeks. They fasted and humiliated themselves to appease what they considered to be the wrath of God.