LORD LOVELACE and ROBERT HUNTER
The new Governor arrived in the last months of the year 1708. He was
John, Lord Lovelace. As there had been so much trouble caused by the
governors appropriating money belonging to the citizens, he decided to
take a very different course. He had the public accounts looked into,
and said, "I wish it known to all the world that the public debt has not
been contracted in my time." And having said this (which made a fine
impression) the Governor asked the Assembly to set aside enough money
for him to run the affairs of the province for a number of years. This
was to be called a permanent revenue. But the Assembly would do no such
thing. In the midst of the discussion, Governor Lovelace died, five
months after his arrival.
It was quite a year after the death of Lovelace before his successor
came. This was Robert Hunter, a most exceptional man. His parents were
poor, and when a boy he had run away from home and had joined the
British army. By working very hard at his books when the army was not
fighting, by studying in the soldiers' quarters and on the battle-field,
by making friends with officers of high rank, Hunter had grown to
manhood brave, well educated, and of graceful manner. On coming to New
York he at once made friends with many influential persons. His most
important friendship was with Lewis Morris, whom he afterward appointed
chief-justice. This Morris was a son of Richard Morris, an officer in
Cromwell's army, who had come to the province, purchased a manor ten
miles square near Harlem, and called it Morrisania--by which name it is
still known.
The year after Hunter arrived, New York joined with New England in a
plan to conquer Canada (which belonged to the French) and join it to the
English colonies. Money was raised, troops were gotten together, and
ships and soldiers were sent from England. But when the attack was to
be made, the English ships struck on the rocks in a fog off the coast of
Canada, and eight of them sank with more than 800 men. This great loss
put an end to the intended invasion. The soldiers returned home, where
there was great sorrow at the dismal failure of a project that had cost
so much money and so many lives.
Governor Hunter had only been in the province a short time when he began
to urge the Assembly to grant him that permanent revenue that Lovelace
had asked for. Queen Anne had said that he was to have it. But the
Assembly would only grant him money from year to year.
About this time the first public market for the sale of negro slaves
was established at the foot of Wall Street. More and more slaves were
brought into the city, and the laws were made more and more strict to
keep them in the most abject bondage. It had come to be the law that
no more than four slaves could meet together at one time. They were
not permitted to pass the city gates, nor to carry weapons of any sort.
Should one appear on the street after nightfall without a lighted
lantern, he was put in jail and his master was fined. Sometimes a slave
murdered his owner. Then he was burned at the stake, after scarcely the
pretence of a trial; or was suspended from the branches of a tall tree
and left there to die.
[Illustration: The Slave-Market. From an Old Print.]
But although the slaves were restrained and beaten and killed, their
numbers increased so fast that the citizens were always in fear that
they might one day rise up and kill all their masters. A riot did occur
the year after the slave-market was set up. Several white men were
killed and a house was burned. Many negroes were then arrested and
nineteen of them were executed under a charge of having engaged in a
plot against the whites.
Affairs moved along quietly for a time after the riot. The next most
interesting happening was the putting up of the first public clock, on
the City Hall in Wall Street. It was the gift of Stephen De Lancey.
De Lancey was a Huguenot nobleman, who had fled from France when the
Huguenots were persecuted for their faith, and had found a home in the
new world. He lived in a mansion at the corner of what are now Pearl and
Broad Streets. The house is there yet, still called Fraunces's Tavern
from the owner who turned it into a tavern after De Lancey removed from
it.
Governor Hunter was becoming very popular with the people, when
unfortunately his health failed. So he surrendered the government into
the hands of Peter Schuyler, who was the oldest member in the City
Council, and went to Europe, having served for nine years. For thirteen
months Schuyler took charge, until William Burnet, the new Governor,
replaced him.
[Illustration: Fraunces's Tavern.]