USA > New York > New York City > Old New York : a journal relating to the history and antiquities of New York City, Vol. II > Part 34
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The leading fire company was not outdone in display by any other on Manhattan Island, and their confidence in their machine was shown by the following lines, penned by some enthusiastic admirers and adopted by the company:
" Little Red Rover, No machine can tip her over; Wash her up and keep her clean, She's the boss of any machine."
The common schools were well attended, and there were also select or private schools that were liberally patronized, and one of the latter bore for many years the conspicuous sign,
"Chelsea School for bonnie babies."
WILLIAM HAZEN.
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GEORGE WARNER.
There were among the early settlers of New York many noted men possessed of sterling principle, devoted patriotism, and de- vout piety. Such a man was George Warner. He was born in England about 1750, and came to this country with his brother Richard about 1765. Richard was a Tory, but George was a Whig, and warmly espoused the cause of the patriots.
They both soon became active business men, were sail makers by trade and kept a large and profitable establishment ; first in John street near William, which afterward became the first meeting place of the Methodists ; and afterwards at No. 86 Wall street. George soon refused to make sails for the British. He was too much of a patriot for that. During the early part of the Revolu- tion he was captain of a military company, and while in New Jer- sey was taken prisoner by the British and confined several years in New York before he was liberated. He and his brother married sis- ters by the name of Waldegrave. These Waldegraves descended from the English Earl Waldegrave, and many representatives of the family are known to have lived and died in America.
George Warner, who was the great-grandfather of the present writer, married Magdalen Waldegrave, on the 2d of February, 1771. She died January 2, 1814, and is buried in George Warner's vault in St. Paul's churchyard. She had two sons, George James Warner and Effingham Warner, and one daughter, Sarah F. Warner. The writer, being now the last living male descendant of the Waldegraves in this country and the first born of the family according to English law, would have a just claim upon any posses- sions which may and in all probability have been left by the Earl of Waldegrave in England, and which may now be in the custody of the Government awaiting their rightful owner. But the writer has never prosecuted the claim for the reason that he has not had the time nor the money requisite for the undertaking, not to speak of the uncertainty more or less attending such an enterprise. In 1785 Richard Warner set out to return to England, and was lost at sea. He had a son who also returned soon after, accumulated con-
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George Warner.
siderable wealth and died. George Warner remained in the city. His descendants are now the only living representatives of the Waldegrave family. The tombstones of some who have died may be seen within a few yards of the railing on Broadway. George Warner's residence was on the corner of Fourth street and the Bowery when first erected. It was considered to be quite out of town, some two or three miles beyond the city limits. The capacious and beautiful grounds belonging to it extended back from the Bowery to beyond Lafayette Place, and from Fourth street nearly to Vauxhall Garden. Some few now living will remember its beau- tiful garden, covered with splendid tulips, hyacinths and roses, and its orchard with all kinds of choice fruits and shrubbery. Here Mr. Warner lived, and died in January, 1825. It was the home of friend- ship, piety and kindly hospitality. After his death his daughter, Mrs. Sarah F. Williams, occupied it as her home for many years, and here resorted some of New York's best society and Mr. War- ner's descendants and their families, such as the following : Effingham H. Warner, who married Miss Ann Summerfield, the beautiful and accomplished sister of the renowned Rev. John Summerfield ; Miss Susan N. Warner, who married Rev. Dr. Sam- uel Nichols, and Miss Sarah F. Warner, who married Thomas Mur- phy. These and their families were frequent visitors, and enjoyed the hospitalities of that favored home during the lifetime of Mrs. S. F. Williams.
Few men of that day and time have left behind them a brighter record of deeds done for the public good, and noble and unselfish efforts to promote the highest religious welfare of his fellow men, than George Warner. He was true to his country in those dark and stormy days of the Revolution. He was a public benefactor. He always sought the highest good of the public as a Representa- tive in the Legislature," to which post he was chosen for many successive years, and as a member of the Common Council and various other city corporations. He was at one time a vestryman of Trinity Church.
He was a devotedly religious man, and though an Episcopalian and always contributing generously for the support and upbuild-
* He was a State Prison Inspector in 1797, and a Member of Assembly in 1798 1802, 1816 and 1817.
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ing of various Episcopal churches with which he was connected at different times, he was also a man of a warm and ardent reli- gious temperament and frequently conducted religious meetings of exhortation, singing and prayer. These meetings were very success- ful and many of his converts joined the church. From 1794 to 1804 George Warner identified himself with old Christ Church when it stood on the north side of Ann street, between William aud Nassau. He aided in the erection of this church and warmly seconded the efforts of Rev. Dr. Pilmore, and afterwards continued an active member of the same church before it was moved to Anthony street near Broadway, under the ministry of Rev. Dr. Thomas Lyle, but in 1809 he transferred his connection from this church to St. Stephen's on Broome street near the Bowery, where he con- tinued his most faithful and active Christian labors till the time of his death, January, 1825. In remembrance of his public life and character and his Christian excellence a monument was erected in St. Stephen's Church to his memory, and another to the memory of his son, Effingham H. Warner, a youth of wonderful promise, who had just graduated at Columbia College and taken the vale- dictory and was intending to become a minister, being then 21 years of age ; in 1796 he was attacked by the yellow fever and died, and was buried in St. Paul's Churchyard October 3d of that year ; his funeral was attended by crowds of his comrades and friends. A young lady placed this poetic wreath upon his coffin :
"Fair was the flower, and bright the vernal sky, With joy elate, we deemed no danger nigh, But e'er the night sun had lent his cheering ray Pale Death had snatched young Effingham away."
A few years since when St. Stephen's Church removed farther uptown and the church building was taken down, these two mon- uments were removed, and by the kind permission of Rev. Dr. Dix, Rector of Trinity, they were placed in the walls of St. Paul's Church on the west side near the rear entrance. They are both in an excellent state of preservation and each bears a striking in- scription.
REV. GEORGE W. NICHOLS, D. D.,
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MINOR NOTES.
THE NEW GAS WORKS .- The new works of the New York Gas Light Com- pany at the foot of Twenty-first street, East River, are now complete and in full operation. We yesterday made a hasty ramble through, and by the courtesy of the officers of the company, are enabled this morning to lay before our readers some interesting particulars relative to the arrangement and struc- ture of the works.
The buildings occupy the entire space between Twenty-first and Twenty- second streets, Avenue A and First avenue-and were erected in 1847, under the supervision of Mr. John Mowton, engineer, and Edward Jones, architect. The grounds front 200 feet on the river-with ample dockage room entirely at the company's command ; 280 feet on Twenty-first street and 200 on Twenty-second.
There are three principal buildings forming the front on Avenue A. The centre one is the retort house, 105 feet long by 50 wide ; the side buildings, or wings, are devoted to the offices and workshops. Inside the inclosure are the coke and coal sheds, the iron washing apparatus and the purifying houses. The walls of the main buildings are of solid masonry, blue stone, laid in courses ; the mould- ings and ornaments of brown stone. The framing of the retort house roof is of iron, secure but lightly arranged ; and the outside is covered with slate-so that the building, in all its parts, is thoroughly fireproof. The external effect is very pleasing. One tall chimney, a well proportioned Tuscan column, looms up from the centre of the building, and is carried up square from below. The apex is crowned with brown stone plinth, base and cap-the cap finished with dental cornice and blocking. The whole height is 120 feet, and the interior diameter of the smoke flue five feet eight inches. The style of the architecture of the entire edifice is the Italian, and is a vast improvement on the old un- sightly affair in Centre street. We congratulate the company on the improved condition of the whole of their accommodations.
The number of persons now employed on the works is from sixty-five to seventy. The rate of wages paid each man for his particular work struck us as very fair, varying from $1 to $1,50 and $2 per day (two gangs, one for day and the other for the night, being constantly employed). Only the laboring men are paid a dollar-the mechanics and other employees receiving compensation at the various rates above specified.
In the manufacture of the gas, ninety-six retorts are in operation at the present time ; but in two or three weeks there will be 120-capable of making 430,000 feet in twenty-four hours.
The average consumption of coal-which is now used, to the entire exclusion of the resin, etc., that formerly created such a cloud of dense and suffocating vapors-is now about thirty-five chaldrons per day. When all the retorts are in operation, the number consumed will reach fifty. The best quality of coal is used-a mixture of Newcastle and Cannel, from the old country, delivered at the company's dock. It is calculated that in every four hours the gas is
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Minor Notes.
thoroughly out of the coal ; and it is at these intervals, accordingly, that the retorts are opened, the refuse removed, and a fresh supply replenished. This operation is professionally termed the "four hour charges." The coke is tumbled out of the retort into iron wheelbarrows, and deposited in the open air; where a stream of Croton, instantly brought to bear upon it, quenches the smouldering flame and heat ; and the mass, when sufficiently cooled, is gathered up for subsequent consumption, and stored under the coke sheds till needed. The whole affair is done with great celerity, occupying scarcely more time than we have taken to describe the process. We understand that the company use a great proportion of their own coke in firing up ; often consuming one-half or two-thirds of the entire quantity.
The line of operations throughout the works is characterized by much order, system and neatness. Cleanliness is by no means unattainable, even in the occupations apparently most foreign to it; and nowhere have we seen a more practical exemplification of this than in the general aspect and minor appoint- ' ments of these new gas works. The rejection of resin and exclusive use of coal in the manufacture is attended with manifest advantages-not the least of which is the almost total absence of smoke; of which article (something neces- sary, but always disagreeable), we could discover none at this spot, in yester- day's bright sunlight.
The mouths of the retorts are sealed, or as the technical phrase has it, "luted " with fine loam, which is stored in one apartment of a separate small building, devoted to this purpose and the storage of the fine quantity of shell- lime used for purifying the gas. The gas, as manufactured, ascends into a hydraulic main running along the summit of the retorts, wherein constantly plays a stream of water which bears along in its course all the tar, refuse mat- ter, etc., thrown down. After the processes of washing, in an iron apparatus contrived with various ingenious devices for the purpose-and passing through the purifying house, a finely arranged department of the works, fitted up with the latest improvements-the gas finally reaches the great meter, which has & capacity for the measurement of 600,000 feet in twenty-four hours. This was not completed at the time of our visit, but will be in operation very speedily. It is of a handsome Gothic exterior, with finely executed clock work arrange- ments.
The last stage of the manufacture is the passage of the gas, in pipes under- neath the ground, into two immense gasometers, with a capacity each of two hundred thousand feet-or a little more than 400,000 for both. These are rarely filled during the day, but the calculation is to have them well stored every night; and this, we believe, is accomplished. The gasometers are located in a separate lot, on the opposite side of the street, and present an exterior of simply two immense globes of iron. From them proceed the main pipes, laid through Twenty-first street and then down First avenue to Grand street (the first point of supply by this company), to be thence distributed in all parts of "down town." Numerous small gasometers are scattered here and there in this portion of this city, which it is aimed to keep well stored .- Tribune, Not. 1, 1849.
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OLD NEW YORK.
MARCH, 1891.
THE LEISLER TROUBLES IN 1689.
AN ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE ONEIDA HISTORICAL SOCIETY BY THE REV. A. G. VERMILYE, D. D.
To reach and fairly consider the subject of this paper, which we may call the Leisler troubles in New York from 1689 to 1691, we must first sketch a little of the adjoining history. As students know, the year 1689 was a famous one in England. It witnessed the accession to the throne of William and Mary in place of James, a bloodless but all important revolution. Of it one has well said, "it was time that James should go, it was time that William should come." Full of the royal prerogative, and growingly tyrannical, James was fast subverting the laws and liber- ties of the people ; so that the reply to William of an old lawyer of ninety years was both witty and might have become true : " Why, Mr. Sergeant," said William, "you have survived all the lawyers of your standing !" "Yes, sir," he replied, " and but for your Highness I should have survived the laws too." Mention is only needed here of the persistent efforts made by James to re- establish Romanism. But William landed at Torbay, and there was an end of James and with him the miserable dynasty of the Stuarts. From the kingly altitude they speedily descended into insignifi- cance as meteors come to the ground, mere lustreless metal. The revolution under William, however, was not a popular uprising ; for that, for the people as a political factor, we must cross the Atlantic. In it, says Hallam, "there was certainly no appeal to the people." It was an aristocratic rebellion, inclusive of property and wealth, against tyrannous evils ; and yet it sufficiently voiced the nation. Hence it was peaceful. It was Protestant. And if
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The Leisler Troubles in 1689.
not perfect, it was merely as the germ is not the perfect, full blown flower. Out of it emerged the word parliament, in place of royal prerogative; the press was liberated ; there were in it the seeds of a wondrous development, the England of to-day. So good was the augury and so ripe the time that its very beginning, the land- ing of William, sent a reflex wave of joy from Torbay to Boston.
We now pass to the colonies. In 1689, New England, New York and New Jersey were a consolidated government, with Sir Edmund Andros at Boston as Governor General. Consolidated politically, but for the people quite as truly harnessed together under one driver; and a somewhat perverse and unruly team. " His Excellency has to do with a perverse people," said his secre- tary, Randolph, of New England. They had lived till lately, till 1686, under chartered rights and privileges. No wonder the royal lash now galled, that fast falling infringements of liberty and rights should fret the traces that held them to James and his state coach. As Duke of York he had been comparatively mod- erate. He had not yet blossomed into absolute tyranny. Never- theless, even at that time a bee had been buzzing in his princely bonnet. Andros was then Governor of New York, and his in- structions were "to display all the humanity and gentleness that could consist with arbitrary power ; and to use punishments, not from wilful cruelty, but as an instrument of terror!" Sublime statecraft in this new world, where every leaf responded to free breezes ! Popular assemblies he suspected in advance, as apt to assume privileges detrimental to government. But in 1686 James becomes king. The bud, replete with the pollen of despotism, is ready to open : the bee that was in his bonnet has become hived as queen of his thoughts, the only one he ever was faithful to, ar- bitrary power. And with such willing workers afield as Andros, Randolph, West and others, what wonder the people of New England grew both alarmed and angry ! To these agents of James they were but as some buckwheat or clover lot or flowers out of which to gather honey. And they did it well and thoroughly ; doing king's work and at the same time distending their own thighs where they had large pockets. Taxes were levied or in- creased at pleasure ; fees demanded for everything ; the press was muzzled under censorship; Episcopacy, which James favored.at
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The Leisler Troubles in 1689.
first as a foil to the dissenters, was thrust upon the churches ; mar- riage services were interfered with; new land titles required of old owners with fees sometimes amounting, says Bancroft, " to -one-fourth the value of the estate;" and whoever objected to these arbitrary proceedings was imprisoned. "The Governor in- vaded liberty and property after such a manner," says Rev. Increase Mather, " as no man could say anything was his own.". All this and more in New England, up to 1689.
In what Matthew Arnold calls " the hubbub of our sterile politics" there is nothing revolutionary-much noise, excite- ment, and there it ends. But dead wires, hanging loosely from the pole, may be fatal ; it needs only a crossing somewhere, a circuit made and then a touch, to reveal the unsuspected danger. Boston endurance had lasted three years or more, and no outbreak. The news of William's landing (April 4, 1689) crossed the wires and set the current in motion ; yet with no immediate result, more than what Andros calls " a general buzzing among the people"- so that he got the soldiers ready. One morning, however (April 18), the captain of the Rose frigate stepped ashore as usual, got into wordy altercation with some ship carpenters, and they seized him. That was the touch that revealed the latent electricity. Crowds formed, arrested the sheriff and others. An eye witness saw boys running, clubs in hand, and "men running some with and some for arms"-a regular popular uprising. Then the drums beat, rallying the companies to the town house, where the captains and other citizens " consulted matters." Meantime old Simon Bradstreet, a former Governor, came in. And although he was now nearly ninety years old, as the most fitting thing to do they immediately made him and other old magistrates under the Charter a committee of safety. Such was the inception of the Boston revolution, a "sudden taking up arms" by the people (they tell Andros), an " accident," to their own surprise and that of those with them at the town-hall. But now the whole town rose in arms, " with the most unanimous resolution," says one, " tha ever inspired a people ; " and in two days the revolution was ac- complished and Andros a prisoner.
The narrative thus far was necessary, since it was new from Boston and the push of her example that set New York
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The Leisler Troubles in 1689.
in motion ; but the revolution there had a local coloring of its own, scenes more exciting, an ending more tragic. It ended in the trial and execution of acting Lieutenant-Governor Leisler for high treason-the only such execution in our State history. In both society and politics that culmination of party passion left its fretmark and furrow for many years. Nor has the story yet become a mere fossil, an unknown something raked out of the rubbish of history. Strange to say, at a recent and not large meeting of the Huguenot Society in New York four members were present, besides myself, whose ancestors had part in those troubles. It is to be hoped, however, that we have passed out of the thermal rage and acrimony of those days into cooler and more historic conditions, as history is now written. And what led up to that tragedy, and what seems to me the justice of truth concerning it, is what I am this evening to tell.
As the groundwork, then, let us first get in mind the New York of that time. A little city, compressed below Wall street, with Harlem as an " out-ward " beyond the fields ; its population about 3,500, and that of the whole province to Albany and Schenectady about 20,000. The rest was wilderness, with Indian tribes, and beyond them, on the north, Canada or New France, the constant breeding place of intrigues and dangers, which, like Arctic birds. the season might bring south. On the other side, again, the little city had the sea as a danger, and for defence only a fort out of repair. Add the heterogeneous population, so different from homogeneous Boston, English, Dutch and French refugees-of the latter some two hundred families-and we have a foundation for some things to come. At what moment, for instance, might not war in Europe between France and Holland or England involve themselves ; and what wonder, if rumors, whether home- bred or imported, made them tremulous! Facts traveled but slowly those days, by small Dutch luggers or the primitive mes- senger boy, whilst rumor sped rapidly here, there and every- where. Truth was but a lame horse in any race with rumor. It could not be telegraphed, as it now is, before rumor landed. Nor were the rumors and their fears always baseless. What were the actual instructions of Louis XIV. to Count Frontenac as we now know them ? If he found in the city any French refugees, " par-
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The Leisler Troubles in 1689.
ticularly those of the pretended Reformed religion," they were to be shipped back to France; any Catholics, English or Dutch on whom he could rely, he might leave in their habitations ; the other principal inhabitants were to be held in prison for ransom, and outlying settlements to be destroyed ! Shipped back to France ! Remember what it portended for many of them-an enforced Ro- manism, or persecution and endangered liberties ; and remember that the revocation of the edict of Nantes and its sequel, the dra- gonnades, were so recent as 1685. Therefore they doubted and watched the sea, and more than once rumor played tricks with their fears. Nor were they less excitable over matters inland. On the north, Canada, whose Jesuit missionaries were the busiest and best of propagandists. Consumed with an indefatigable zeal, they obeyed orders, went wherever sent, and throughout the North were the ablest architects of French power. A danger too distant, it may seem to us, to have much effect, but not so to them. As when some strong insect touches the end of a spider's web, even a thread, it thrills at once to the centre, and may en- danger the whole ; so a French, or French and Indian invasion, at any point, affected the province. The burning of Schenectady in 1690, although only sixty lives were lost, startled every northern colony into action. And for the reason of this danger, they feared the Jesuits. Good and simple hearted as were some of these missionaries,.a Jesuit was to them a bee with wings and a sting-no errand for his faith too remote, and to be feared always and everywhere for the harm he might do. His presence in the northern woods was almost itself a danger signal of French in- trigues, Indian alliances, attempted conquest and what that meant under Louis XIV. But there was something more than this, and yet connected with it. The efforts of James to advance his own religion among them had alarmed them thoroughly, had made the word " popish " first and uppermost in the popular mind, even over their civil grievances. In that heterogeneous population, not in full national sympathy, what might not be done by information given to, or some effort in behalf of, an outside enemy ? It bred suspicion and rumors and fears. There were two dangers, Louis and James, each standing in the popular mind for popery. What wonder if, later on, when words of stigma flew between the par-
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