CHAPTER XXVII

THE BATTLE of HARLEM HEIGHTS


When the sun rose next morning (it was September 16th), the American
army and the British army lay encamped each on a highland close beside
one another separated by a valley.

The ground occupied by the British soldiers was then Vandewater Heights.
Much of this high ground still remains and is now called Columbia
Heights, and Columbia University and Grant's Tomb are upon it. The
American forces were scattered over what was then Harlem Heights, as far
as Washington's head-quarters in the country mansion overlooking the
Harlem River above Harlem Plains. It was the house of Roger Morris, a
royalist who had fled at the approach of the American soldiers, and it
still stands at 160th Street close by St. Nicholas Avenue. On the
heights and in the valley a battle was fought, beginning with a light
engagement quite early in the day, with more and more men of both armies
gradually joining in until there were 5,000 Americans against 6,000
British, with several thousand of each side held in reserve.

[Illustration: Map of Manhattan Island in 1776, Showing the American
Defences &c.]

The battle ended in the afternoon with the defeat of the British, who
lost 200 of their number.

This was a great victory for the Americans, who fought against superior
numbers--great because the men had lost heart after the defeat on Long
Island, and the forced retreat from the city. There was sorrow for the
dead, for even victories have a sad side. Every one of the 100 American
soldiers who were killed that day were brave men, and though all their
names are not written in history, the manner of their death urged on
their companions in the days that followed.




CHAPTER XXVIII

THE BRITISH FAIL to SWEEP EVERYTHING BEFORE THEM


On the fourth day after the battle of Harlem Heights the soldiers of
England were making themselves comfortable in New York when a great
fire broke out. It swept over the city and 500 houses crumbled and fell
in ashes before it was controlled. Almost the entire western part of
the city was consumed, St. Paul's Chapel being the only building of
importance that was saved. Almost all who favored the American cause had
fled. But a few remained, and there was a hint that these had started
the fire. The British soldiers were angered when they saw the city they
had just entered burning, and while the flames roared and the houses
fell they rushed about and in their rage dashed out the brains of the
citizens who sought to beat back the flames from their homes. But it
was afterward learned that the fire had started in quite an accidental
manner.

A little while after this General Howe moved with the greater part of
the British army up the East River, and sailing on past the Island of
Manhattan, landed on the mainland beyond in Westchester. In this way the
British were in the rear of the Americans, and within a few days the two
armies coming together a battle was fought, in which the Americans were
defeated. Washington and his men then retreated into New Jersey.

General Howe next attacked Fort Washington, a high and rocky point on
the banks of the Hudson River (on a line with the present 178th Street).
There were 3,000 men here, all the American soldiers who were now on the
island, and they held such a high and well-fortified position that they
thought themselves quite safe. They doubtless would have been had not
one of their number, William Demont, turned traitor. He told the British
just how many men there were, and just how the fortress should be
attacked. And the British stormed the fort as the traitor directed, and
took it, and every one of the soldiers who had not been killed was made
prisoner. This ended the actual fight for liberty in New York.

[Illustration: View from the Bowling Green in the Revolution, from an
Old Print]

But outside of New York the war went bravely on. Washington in New
Jersey kept up the fight, but the winter came on and his army suffered
exceedingly. It had come to be a very small army by this time, for they
were poorly fed and ill clothed and seldom had any sort of shelter.
Nevertheless, Washington gained many victories in New Jersey and
manoeuvred his little army so well that the whole world, hearing of his
achievements, was forced to recognize him as a great general.

New York was the head-quarters of the British army in America, and the
residence of its chief officers. The city was as thoroughly British as
it had before been American, and it was as much as life was worth even
to hint of an interest in the American cause.

Early in the next year, 1777, those who had the making of the laws for
the new State of New York, met in secret, and chose George Clinton as
their first Governor. The other colonies had formed themselves into
States, and the new nation grew stronger day by day.

Commissioners were sent to the European courts to ask aid for the United
States. Many young French noblemen, thrilled at the idea of fighting for
liberty, came to America as volunteers, and by their knowledge of war
gave valuable assistance to the American officers. The name of the
Marquis de Lafayette stands out prominently as the chief of these
volunteers. He was not yet twenty years old, but fitted out a vessel at
his own expense and crossed the ocean to offer his services. He asked to
be enlisted as a volunteer and to serve without pay, but he was soon
appointed a major-general.

When it had come to be July of this year, there was some fighting in
the North, for the British General Burgoyne came down from Canada. He
intended to meet the army under Howe which was marching northward, and
the two armies were to sweep everything before them. Burgoyne defeated
the Americans led by General Philip Schuyler, in several battles. Just
at this time General Schuyler's command was given to General Gates. Now
Gates followed the plans that had been made by Schuyler, with the result
that Burgoyne and his entire force of 6,000 men surrendered at Saratoga.
This settled one branch of the British army. The other branch, under
General Howe, took possession of Philadelphia, but the defeat of
Burgoyne at Saratoga put an end to their hopes of sweeping everything
before them.

In the last month of the year, Washington and his army took up winter
quarters at Valley Forge so as to keep a close watch upon the British
in Philadelphia.




CHAPTER XXIX

NEW YORK a PRISON-HOUSE


The winter passed, and when the spring came the British army moved
from Philadelphia to New York City, but not without great trouble, for
Washington's army fought them every step of the way across New Jersey.

The city was now quite different from the flourishing town it had been
before the war. Held possession of by the British, it was a military
camp. No improvements were made. Many of the citizens who were loyal to
the American cause had fled. Those who were too poor to leave pretended
to favor the British, but as little business could be done, they could
find no work, and their condition became worse daily. Thousands of
American prisoners were brought here, making it a British prison-house,
and every building of any size was a guard-house, every cellar a
dungeon.

[Illustration: Old Sugar-House in Liberty Street, the Prison-House of
the Revolution.]

One of the gloomiest of these prisons was an old sugar-house close by
the Middle Dutch Church. It was built in the days of Jacob Leisler,
with thick stone walls five stories high, pierced with small windows.
The ceilings were so low and the windows so small that the air could
scarcely find entrance. Underneath was a black and dismal cellar. The
pale and shrunken faces of prisoners filled the openings at the windows
by day and by night, seeking a breath of air. They were so jammed
together that there was by no means room at the windows for all. So
these wretched men divided themselves into groups, each group crowding
close to the windows for ten minutes, then giving place to another
group. They slept on straw that was never changed, and the food given
them was scarcely enough to keep them alive. Those who suffered this
living death might have been free at any time had they been willing to
go over to the British, but few of the patriots, even in this dread
hour, deserted their cause. To while away the hours of their captivity,
they carved their names upon the walls with rusty nails. Fevers raged
constantly and they died by scores, leaving their half-finished initials
on the walls as their only relics. Their bodies were thrown out of
doors, and every morning gathered up in carts and carried to the
outskirts of the city to be buried in a trench without ceremony.

This was only one of a dozen such prison-houses. There was one other
that, if anything, was worse. It was the New Jail, and it still
stands in City Hall Park and is now the Hall of Records. During the
war it was known as The Provost, because it was the head quarters of a
provost-marshal named Cunningham. It was his custom at the conclusion
of his drunken revels to parade his weak, ill, half-fed prisoners
before his guests, as fine specimens of the rebel army. It is said
of him, too, that he poisoned those who died too slowly of cold and
starvation, and then went right on drawing money to feed them. This gave
rise to the saying that he starved the living and fed the dead. He took
a great delight in being as cruel and merciless as he could, and very
often boasted that he had caused the death of more rebels than had been
killed by all of the King's forces.

Many American sailors were also captured (for the Revolution was
fought on the sea as well as on land) and all these were placed aboard
prison-ships--useless hulks, worn-out freight-boats, and abandoned
men-of-war. For a time these hulks were anchored close by the Battery,
but afterward they were taken to the Brooklyn shore. There was misery
and suffering on all of them, but the worst was called the "Jersey,"
where captives were crowded into the hold, the sick and the well, poorly
fed and scarcely clothed, so many of them as hardly to permit space to
lie down, watched over by a guard of merciless soldiers. Disease in a
dozen forms was always present, and every morning the living were forced
to carry out those who had died over night.

During this year 1778, and for several years after, the war was carried
on for the most part in the South, in Georgia and South Carolina, while
the British soldiers in the city made trips into the surrounding country
and laid it waste. Washington and his army in New Jersey could do little
more than watch.

In the year 1780 the American cause came very near receiving a serious
check, when an officer high in rank turned traitor. This man was
Benedict Arnold, and had been a vigorous fighter. But now he bargained
with the British to turn over to them West Point, where he was chief in
command. Major John Andre, a brilliant young officer under the British
General Clinton, was sent to make the final arrangements. Andre was
returning to New York when he was captured with the plans of West Point
concealed in his boots. He was hanged as a spy, and Arnold, escaping to
the British in New York, fought with them, despised by the Americans and
mistrusted by the English; for a traitor can never be truly liked or
respected even by those who benefit by his treachery.

The War of the Revolution went on until the fall of the year 1781, when
General Washington made a sudden move that drew his men away from the
vicinity of New York before the British army could foresee it. Then he
hurried to the South. There, at Yorktown, in Virginia, the combined
American army hemmed in, and after a battle forced to surrender, Lord
Cornwallis, the British commander in the South, and all his men.

This victory was so great that it really ended the war. Great Britain
gave up the struggle, and a treaty of peace was signed.

And now you will see how the British army left the city of New York.




CHAPTER XXX

AFTER the WAR


On a crisp, cold day, late in the fall, a tall, mild-faced man on a
spirited horse passed down the Bowery Road, followed by a long train
of soldiers whose shabby clothes and worn faces told of days of trial
and hardship. This was General George Washington with a portion of the
Continental army. They were entering New York on this same day when the
British troops were leaving it.

But although the British were leaving under the terms of the treaty of
peace, and had gone on board ships that were to take them to England,
there were many who were filled with rage at this enforced departure.
At the fort by the river-side they had knocked the cleats _off_ the
flag-pole, and had greased the pole so that no one could climb it
to put up the United States flag and thus flaunt it in the face of the
departing troops. But the soldiers of Washington who reached the fort
just as the last British company was leaving, set to work with hammer
and saw. They made new cleats for the pole. Then a young sailor--his
name was John Van Arsdale--filling his pockets with the cleats and
nailing them above him as he climbed the pole step by step, was able to
put the flag in position. And as it floated to the breeze a salute of
thirteen guns sounded while the British troops were still within
hearing.

So now the city of New York, which for seven years the British had
occupied, was again in possession of the citizens.

General Washington only remained here a few days. He made his
head-quarters in Fraunces's Tavern, in Broad Street, and there at noon
on December 4th, his officers assembled to hear his words of farewell.
It was an affectionate parting of men who had suffered danger and
privations together. There were tears in Washington's eyes.

[Illustration: North Side of Wall Street East of William Street, Taken
a Few Years after the Revolutionary War.]

"With a heart full of love and gratitude," said he, "I now take my leave
of you, and most devoutly wish that your latter days may be as
prosperous and happy as your former ones have been glorious and
honorable."

It was not a time for much talking, and Washington was soon gone,
leaving real sorrow behind him. Within a few weeks he had resigned his
commission as commander-in-chief, and had retired as a private citizen
to his home at Mount Vernon.

The city of New York was in quite a deplorable state. The wide tract
swept by the fire of 1776 still lay in blackened ruins. No effort had
been made to rebuild except where temporary wooden huts had been set
up by the soldiers. The churches, all of which had been used for one
purpose or another, were dismantled, blackened, and marred. There was
scarcely a house in all the little town that had not been ill-used
by the soldiers. Fences were down, and the streets were filled with
rubbish. It was a city stricken with premature decay. Business life
was dead, and would have to be begun all over again. The citizens were
divided against themselves. Feuds existed everywhere. Patriots who had
fled and had now come back felt a deep bitterness against those who had
adopted the royal cause for the purpose of keeping possession of their
property. These, however, complained just as bitterly because now their
homes were taken from them in the adjustment.

King's College, of which you have been told, had been closed all during
the war, and had been used as a hospital. It was opened now, but was
called Columbia College, as the King no longer had any claims on the
city or its institutions.

During the next few years business slowly revived, and day by day the
city was rebuilt, growing into something like its old self.

Some little distance above the Common was the City Hospital. There came
rumors at this time that the bodies of the dead were being stolen from
the graveyards and used by the students for dissecting purposes. There
was no truth in these stories, yet many persons became alarmed. They
gathered, broke into the hospital and destroyed everything of value.
The doctors fled to the jail on the Common for protection. The mob
determined to seize them, and tore down the fences about the jail. Then
the Mayor gathered a body of citizens to oppose the mob. As night came
on, the rioters, becoming more and more destructive, were fired upon and
five were killed. After this they scampered away, the trouble was over,
and that was the last of the Doctors' Mob.




CHAPTER XXXI

THE FIRST PRESIDENT of the UNITED STATES


Rebuilding a city and forming a new nation is such a great task that you
can readily believe it was not accomplished without some difficulty. The
colonies were free from the rule of the English King, but it was
necessary for them to learn to govern themselves.

Each of the new States now had its own government. It was thought by
many that there should be some powerful central government to control
all the States. So after a great deal of deliberation a convention was
held in Philadelphia over which George Washington presided. After four
months of hard work the present Constitution of the United States was
given to each State to be approved.

There was strong need for this step to be taken, but there were a
great many who did not want it, because they thought it would give the
President as much power as a king, and as they had gone to some cost to
rid themselves of a king, they did not wish another. Those who wanted a
central government were called Federalists. Those who did not want it
were called Anti-Federalists.

In New York there was one man who did everything that man could do
to convince others that the central government was the best thing for
the good of the new nation. His name was Alexander Hamilton. He was
a young man who had been, ever since he was a boy, a friend of George
Washington; who had lived in Washington's family and had fought as an
officer side by side with Washington, and was a man of much power and
deep learning.

This Constitution of the United States had been approved by nine of the
States, when, in June, 1788, a convention was held to determine whether
New York was to approve it or not. At this convention Alexander Hamilton
spoke eloquently, in an effort to have the Constitution approved.

The convention was still meeting in July, having come to no decision,
when the followers of Hamilton, the Federalists, had a great parade
through the streets of New York. It was the first big parade in the
city, and the grandest spectacle that had ever been seen in America
up to this time.

[Illustration: Celebration of the Adoption of the Constitution.]

The most imposing part of it was a great wooden ship on wheels, made to
represent the Ship of State, and called the "Federal Ship Hamilton."
The parade was a mile and a half long and there were five thousand men
in it. It passed along the streets of the city, past the fort, and on
up Broadway over the tree-covered hill above the Common, and on to the
Bayard Farm beyond the Collect Pond. There a halt was made and the
thousands of people sat down on the grass to a dinner.

Three days after this the convention approved of the Constitution for
the State of New York. And so the majority of the States having agreed
to it, in the next year George Washington was chosen as the first
President of the United States, and the city of New York was selected
as the temporary seat of the general government.




CHAPTER XXXII

THE WELCOME to GEORGE WASHINGTON


Now that New York was the seat of the national government, the old City
Hall in Wall Street was made larger and fitted up in grand style and was
called Federal Hall.

In April George Washington came to this city from his home at Mount
Vernon. Every step of his way, by carriage and on horseback, was a march
of triumph. The people in towns and villages and countryside greeted him
with shouts and signs of affection. But it was in New York that the
greatest welcome was given him.

The city had taken on a most picturesque appearance. Every house was
decorated with colors, and when Washington landed from a barge at the
foot of Wall Street, he walked up a stairway strewn with flowers. The
streets were so thronged that way could scarcely be made. Not only were
the streets filled, but every window and every house-top. The people
waited for hours, and when Washington arrived a wild hubbub commenced
that kept up all the day long.

[Illustration: View of Federal Hall and Part of Broad Street, 1796.]

Washington was escorted to the house that had been prepared for him, a
little way out of town at the top of a hill.

If in the days that you read this you walk along Pearl Street until you
come to the East River bridge at Franklin Square, a part of the city
crowded with tenements and factories, you will stand close by where the
house was. On the abutment of the bridge you will find a tablet that has
been riveted to the stone, so that all who pass may know that Washington
once lived there. The house was built by Walter Franklin, a rich
merchant, and was therefore called the Franklin House. The square,
however, does not take its name from this man, but from the renowned
Benjamin Franklin.

Very soon, on a bright, sunshiny day, Washington stood on the balcony of
Federal Hall, surrounded by the members of the Senate and the House of
Representatives, with the citizens thronging every inch of the nearby
streets. And there he took the oath of office, and having taken it the
cry was raised, "Long Live George Washington, First President of the
United States," a cry that was echoed from street to street, and went on
echoing out into the country beyond.

[Illustration: The John Street Theatre, 1781.]

The life of the First President was a simple and a busy one. He rose at
four o'clock each morning and went to bed at nine in the evening. Many
hours a day he worked at matters of state, receiving all who called, so
that there was quite a stream of people going to and from the Franklin
House at all times. Sometimes during the day he took a long drive with
Mrs. Washington, which he called the "Fourteen Miles 'round," going up
one side of the island above the city and coming down the other.
Sometimes of an evening he attended a performance at the little John
Street Theatre. Always on Sunday he and all his family went to St.
Paul's Chapel. And the pew in which they sat you can sit in if you go
to that old chapel, for it has been preserved all these years.

By this time the fort by the Bowling Green, which had stood since the
days of the Dutch, was torn down to make room for a mansion that was
to be called the Government House and be occupied by the President.

The mansion was built, but you shall see presently why no President ever
occupied it.




CHAPTER XXXIII

CONCERNING the TAMMANY SOCIETY and BURR'S BANK


There was formed just about this time, in fact the very month after
Washington's inauguration, an organization which was called the Tammany
Society. And out of this society grew the great political body--Tammany
Hall. The Tammany Society took its name from a celebrated Indian chief,
and at first had as its central purpose the effort to keep a love of
country strong in every heart. The best men in the city belonged to the
Tammany Society, which held meetings and transacted business under all
sorts of odd and peculiar forms. It divided the seasons of the year into
the Season of Blossoms, the Season of Fruits, the Season of Moons, and
the Season of Snows, instead of Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. And
the head of the order was called the Grand Sachem or Chief.

New York now became a very active and a very brilliant city indeed,
and all manner of improvements were made. The first sidewalks were laid
along Broadway, just above St. Paul's Chapel. They were pavements of
brick, so narrow that two persons could scarcely walk along side by
side. Then the high hill crossed by Broadway just above the Common was
cut away so that the street stretched away as broad and as straight as
you see it to-day. Numbers were put on the houses and streets were cut
through the waste lands about the Collect Pond, and the barracks which
were built for the British soldiers were torn away as unsightly
structures. These barracks were log huts a story high, enclosed by a
high wall. The gate at one end, called Tryon's Gate, gave the name to
Tryon's Row as it now exists. Trinity Church, which had been in ruins
since the fire, was rebuilt, as well as many, many other houses.

Now the fact that the city was the seat of the national government and
was the home of Washington had much to do with its improvement. But New
York had only been fixed upon as the capital temporarily, and a dozen
States were anxious for that honor. Finally, in the second year that
Washington was President, it was decided to build a city which should
be the seat of the general government, on land given by the States
of Maryland and Virginia for that purpose and called the District of
Columbia. While the city (which was given the name of Washington) was
being built, the seat of government was to be in Philadelphia, and
Washington went there to live. A great many of the gay and brilliant
company that had been attracted to the capital followed him there, and
for a time New York languished in neglect.

It now began to look as though the United States would be drawn into
another war with Great Britain. For the French Revolution was in
progress and the French people were at war with the English, and thought
that the Americans should help them as they had helped the Americans in
Revolutionary times. But President Washington and some of the very wise
and good people about him thought it best to have nothing to do with it.
So a treaty was made between England and the United States, and the
French did not get the help they asked.

Some of the citizens of New York, quite a large number of them, were
very angry when they heard of this treaty and burned a copy of it on the
Bowling Green, with all sorts of threats. But after a time those who had
shouted against it changed their minds. They had something more serious
to think of nearer home before many years, for the small-pox broke out
in the city and thousands upon thousands hurried away to escape the
dread disease. All business was at a standstill, and even the churches
were closed. When the scourge had spent its force, it was found that
more than 2,000 had died of it.

There was one man who took advantage of the small-pox scare to his own
profit. This was Aaron Burr. You will remember him as a boy fighting
by the side of Montgomery in Canada. He was now a lawyer known for his
great skill the country over; a man of education and deep learning.
He was the leader of a political party, a party which contended with,
fought with, disagreed with at every turn the party of which Alexander
Hamilton was one of the chief leaders.

Now there were two banks in the city, both of which were under the
control of the party to which Alexander Hamilton belonged. Aaron Burr
determined that his party should have a bank, too. The citizens were
prejudiced against banks, and did not want a new one. But Burr
determined to establish one, and set about it in a most peculiar way.
All at once the report got about that the small-pox had been caused by
the well-water. This was about all there was to drink in the city,
except that which came from a few springs and was said to be very impure
indeed. So Aaron Burr and his friends secured a charter for a company
that was to supply clear, pure water. This pleased the citizens very
much. But there was a clause in the charter to the effect that as all
the money might not be needed for the bringing of water into the city,
that which remained could be used for _any_ purpose the company saw fit.
Only those in the secret understood that the money was to be used to
start a bank. So the company dug deep wells not far from the Collect
Pond, and pumped water from them into a reservoir which was built close
by the Common on Chambers Street, and then sent it through the city by
means of curious wooden pipes. This water was really just as impure as
that which had before been taken from the wells, and it was not long
before the new water-works were known to be a failure. Then the company
gave all their attention to the bank, which had in the meanwhile been
started.

[Illustration: Reservoir of Manhattan Water-Works in Chambers Street.]

This company of Aaron Burr's was called the Manhattan Company, and their
Manhattan Bank has been kept going ever since and is still in existence
in a fine large building in Wall Street.

So you see Aaron Burr this time got the better of Alexander Hamilton and
his friends.

If you turn the page you will read more of Hamilton and Burr.




CHAPTER XXXIV

MORE about HAMILTON and BURR


The dawn of the nineteenth century saw 60,000 people in the city of New
York and the town extending a mile up the island. Above the city were
farms and orchards and the country homes of the wealthy. Where Broadway
ended there was a patch of country called Lispenard's Meadow, and about
this time a canal was cut through it from the Collect Pond to the
Hudson River. This was the canal which long years afterward was filled
in and gave its name to Canal Street.

[Illustration: The Collect Pond.]

From time to time there were projects for setting out a handsome park
about the shores of the Collect Pond, but the townspeople thought it was
too far away from the city. But in a few years the city grew up to the
Collect Pond, which was then filled in, and to-day a gloomy prison (The
Tombs) is built upon the spot.

One of the new undertakings was the building of a new City Hall, as the
old one in Wall Street was no longer large enough. So the present City
Hall was begun on what was then the Common, but it was not finished for
a good ten years. The front and sides were of white marble, and the rear
of cheaper red sandstone, as it was thought that it would be many years
before anyone would live far enough uptown to notice the difference.
How odd this seems in these days, when the City Hall is quite at the
beginning of the city.

Aaron Burr had by this time been elected Vice-President of the United
States. But he soon lost the confidence of the people, and when, in the
year 1803, he hoped to be made Governor of the State of New York, he was
defeated.

[Illustration: The Grange, Kingsbridge Road, the Residence of Alexander
Hamilton.]

Now at this time Alexander Hamilton was still a leader in the party
opposed to Aaron Burr, and did everything possible to defeat him. And
Burr, angered because of this, and believing that Hamilton had sought to
bring dishonor upon him, challenged Hamilton to a duel--the popular way
of settling such serious grievances. So Hamilton accepted the challenge
and on a morning in the middle of the summer of 1804, just after
sunrise, the duel took place on the heights of the shore of New Jersey,
just above Weehawken. Hamilton fell at the first fire mortally wounded.
The next day he died.

There was great sorrow throughout the entire country, for he was a brave
and good man, and had been a leader since the War of the Revolution. All
the citizens followed him to his rest in Trinity Churchyard, and in the
churchyard to-day you can see his tomb carefully taken care of and
decorated, year by year.

After the death of Hamilton the feeling against Burr in the city was
bitter indeed, and he soon went away.

A few years later, when a project was formed for establishing a great
empire in the southwest and overthrowing the United States, this same
Aaron Burr was thought to be concerned in the plot. When, after a trial,
he was acquitted, he went to live in Europe. But he returned after a
time, and the last years of his life were passed in New York.




CHAPTER XXXV

ROBERT FULTON BUILDS a STEAM-BOAT


There had come to be a great need for schools. There were private
schools and there were school-rooms attached to some of the churches,
but it was in this year, 1805, that the first steps were taken to have
free schools for all.

A kindly man named De Witt Clinton was Mayor of the city, and he, with
some other citizens, organized the Free School Society that was to
provide an education for every child. The following year the first free
school was opened. The society continued in force for forty-eight years,
each year the number of its schools increasing, until finally all its
property was turned over to the city.

In the days when De Witt Clinton was Mayor the first steam-boat was
built to be used on the Hudson River. For many a year there had been
men who felt sure that steam could be applied to boats and made to
propel them against the wind and the tide. They had tried very hard to
build such a boat but none had succeeded. Sometimes the boilers burst.
Sometimes the paddle-wheels refused to revolve. For one reason or
another the boats were failures.

A man named John Fitch had built a little steam-boat and had tried it
on the Collect Pond, where it had steamed around much to the surprise
of the good people of the city who went to look at it. But it was
considered more as a toy than anything else. Nothing came of the
experiment, and the boat itself was neglected after a time and dragged
up on the bank beside the lake, where it lay until it rotted away.

Then Robert Livingston, who was chancellor of the city, felt sure he
could build a steam-boat that would be of use. As he was a wealthy man
he spent a great deal of money trying to make such a boat; and as he was
a very learned man he gave much thought to it.

Chancellor Livingston was in France when he met another American, named
Robert Fulton, who was an artist and a civil engineer, and who also
hoped to build a boat that could be moved by steam. Livingston and
Fulton decided that they would together build such a boat.