Danvers became sad and gloomy. He covered his face with his hands.
"Then what am I come here for?" he cried.

The very next morning there was an uproar in the city. The Governor
had been found dead, hanging from the garden-wall of his house. Then
the people learned that his mind had been unsettled for a long time,
and that he had accepted the governorship hoping to be cured by a change
of scene. But the knowledge that his rule would be one of constant
struggling to gain his ends had doubtless proven too much for his
wrecked brain. So he killed himself, and the government of New York was
left in the hands of James De Lancey, and you will see how he still
further won the hearts of those around him.




CHAPTER XIX

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.

[Illustration: Trinity Church, 1760.]

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.




CHAPTER XX

THE STORY of the STAMP ACT


The colonists were becoming more and more dissatisfied, not only in New
York, but in all of the thirteen English colonies in America. For they
strongly objected to the way in which money was being taken from them in
the form of taxes. The English had spent much money in the wars which
led up to the conquest of Canada, and thought that it should be returned
to them. So they taxed the colonists in every possible way. Protest was
made against these taxes, but in vain. Matters became worse and worse.
After two years, when it had come to be the year 1765, the British
Parliament passed what was called the Stamp Act. This compelled the
people to buy stamps and put them on every sort of legal paper. No one
could be married, no newspaper could be printed, nothing could be
bought, nothing could be sold, no business of any sort could be carried
on without these stamps. No one could evade the use of them, and in this
way all would have to contribute directly to the King.

More than any other form of tax, more than anything the British
Government had done, the people opposed this Stamp Act. The colonists
had no one to represent them in the British Parliament, no one to
present their side, no one to plead for them and tell what a drain this
tax was, so they declared that they would not use a single stamp, unless
they were allowed to have someone to represent them; and they set up the
cry, "No Taxation Without Representation."

Very soon a company of men called the Sons of Liberty began to be heard
of throughout all the thirteen colonies. They were foremost in opposing
the Stamp Act. In many towns they held meetings, and it was not long
before the people were aroused from one end of the country to the other.

Not many months had passed before men were sent from each of the
colonies and met in the City Hall at New York. This meeting was called
a Colonial Congress. For three weeks these men conferred, and during
that time decided that in good truth the Stamp Act was unjust, and that
everything in their power should be done to prevent it.

[Illustration: Coffee-House opposite Bowling Green, Head-Quarters of
the Sons of Liberty.]

In this same year the house which Stephen De Lancey had built close by
Trinity Church, and which James De Lancey had lived in until his death,
had become a hotel. It was called Burns's Coffee-House. It was a solid
structure, with high beams, great fireplaces, and wide halls. If you
go now to look for the spot where it stood, you will find a crowded
business section; but in those days there were open spaces all about,
and a handsome lawn swept away to the river. One October night the
merchants of the city gathered in this coffee-house, and here, late at
night, they signed a paper which bound them one and all to buy no goods
from England so long as the English King should compel them to use the
stamps. By this agreement people could, of course, only wear clothing
that was made in the colonies, and even the wealthy refused to buy silk
and broadcloth that were sent from England. Tea and coffee, being
imports, were not drunk, and in their place were used preparations made
from fragrant wild herbs of the American soil.

The merchants who had assembled in the coffee-house were called the
Non-Importation Association, branches of which spread throughout all the
colonies. The paper they signed was the non-importation agreement. Next
day, which was the first on which the stamps were to be distributed, the
city seemed to sleep. The shops were closed and the citizens remained
indoors. The flags were hung at half-mast and the bells tolled dismally.

But at night the silence changed to noise. The citizens gathered in
numbers. They broke into the stable of Lieutenant-Governor Cadwallader
Golden and dragged out his coach of state. In it they put a figure made
of sticks and rags to represent the owner. They marched the streets,
shouting as they went, and finally surrounded the fort. The soldiers
were drawn up on the ramparts with cannon and gun directed toward the
Bowling Green. But no shots were fired. The rioters being denied
admission to the fort, into which they were anxious to get because the
stamps were stored there, tore down the wooden railing around the
Bowling Green, and, kindling a huge fire, burned the coach and the
figure in it.

As the flames blazed high, the fury of the mob increased. They rushed
away toward Vauxhall on the outskirts of the town (where Greenwich and
Warren Streets now cross). Vauxhall at this time was occupied by a major
of the British army named James. He had said that the stamps ought to be
crammed down the throats of the people with the point of a sword. In
revenge for this his house was broken into, his handsome furniture, his
pictures and treasures of every sort dragged out, and kindled into a
bonfire around which the mob danced and howled.

The people were quite determined to take the law into their own hands
and destroy every trace of the hated stamps. You shall know presently
what prevented them.




CHAPTER XXI

THE BEGINNING of REVOLUTION


On the morning after the night of rioting--dark and dreary day that was
quite in keeping with the gloomy feelings of the people--Cadwallader
Colden, the Lieutenant-Governor, decided that he would do away with the
stamps that had caused so much trouble. So he had them delivered to the
Mayor, who was in accord with the citizens, and the Mayor put them in
the City Hall amid many cheers. A few days after this Sir Henry Moore
(who had been appointed Governor of the province) arrived from England,
and immediately won the hearts of the citizens by saying that he would
have nothing to do with the stamps. During the next few months
excitement in New York and in the other colonies increased, and efforts
to keep the stamps in use caused riots everywhere.

When the King saw that he could not enforce the Stamp Act, and that
serious trouble was likely to occur from every attempt to do so, he
repealed the act, the year after it had become a law.

The people were overjoyed at this.

The King's birthday coming soon after, there was in his honor a great
celebration, and a liberty pole was planted on the Common, which in
after years played an important part in the history of New York; and
a marble statue of William Pitt, Earl of Chatham, was erected. This
William Pitt had done more than any other man in England to secure the
repeal of the Stamp Act, and had time and time again spoken strongly
against it. His statue was set up in Wall Street, and at the same time
a statue of King George III., seated upon a horse, was erected on the
Bowling Green. It fared ill with these statues later, as you will see.

There was no longer a stamp act, but there was another act quite as
disagreeable. It was called the Mutiny Bill, and it required that food
and drink and sleeping-quarters be given to all the British soldiers.
Now the Mutiny Bill fell hardest upon New York, for New York was the
head-quarters of the British army in America. The people refused to
comply with this law, because they feared that it was the first step
toward compelling them to support a great army in America.

So the soldiers and citizens were again continually at odds.

Four years after the Stamp Act was repealed, during which time affairs
were in a most unsettled state and the bitter feeling between the
colonists and England was growing stronger with each passing day, the
English Parliament declared that no tax was to be put on anything except
tea. Tea was to be taxed, not so much for the money that would thus go
to the King, but to show that he had the right to tax the colonists.
This did not settle matters in the least. The colonists had sworn to
resist all taxes, and to have a tax on one article was as bad, to their
minds, as having taxes on all. But the merchants were not prospering,
for, not importing goods from England, they had none to sell. So a
committee of 100 men was appointed to see what could be done. This
committee decided that it would be right for the merchants to import
everything they needed except tea. And the merchants welcomed this
decision and agreed to it.

But the fiery Sons of Liberty refused to listen to any such compromise.
They insisted on keeping the non-importation agreement until the duty
on tea, as well as all other duties, should be done away with once and
for all. So they determined to maintain it until the end, and they did
maintain it well. Day by day the soldiers of King George III. and the
citizens became greater enemies. Although the soldiers tried many times
to drag down the liberty pole, it was well defended, and it stood until
one night in January, 1770, when they tore it down and chopped it into
pieces. This act led to the battle of Golden Hill, which was the first
real battle of the American Revolution.




CHAPTER XXII

FIGHTING the TAX on TEA


A bit of rising ground, not a great way from the Common, was called
Golden Hill. Here there was an inn. To this day the elevation of ground
can be seen (where John Street crosses William), and the inn still
stands. While the thought of the wrecked liberty pole was still fresh
in mind, some of the Sons of Liberty came suddenly upon a number of
soldiers close by this inn. There was a running fight, the soldiers
using their guns and cutlasses and the others beating them back with
staves and sticks. More soldiers came and the fight grew in fury.
Already one man had received his death-blow and a dozen had been
injured, when several officers came galloping up the road and the
soldiers were ordered back to their barracks. This was the battle of
Golden Hill.

Very often after this the soldiers and the citizens clashed and
sometimes came to blows, and progress was at a standstill because of the
turbulence of the times. Public improvements were neglected and very
little business was carried on.

In the third year after the battle of Golden Hill, the British
Government decided to make the colonists buy tea whether they wanted to
or not. So the price was put down until tea could be bought in New York
cheaper than it could be bought in England. This did no good, for though
the tea was cheap the tax was on it and it was the tax and not the price
of which the people complained. The Sons of Liberty, when they heard
that ships loaded with cheap tea were on the way from England, said they
would not even permit it to be landed. The first ship in port was under
the command of a captain named Lockyer, who, when he learned of the
strong efforts made to prevent the landing of the tea, determined to
return to England with his cargo. He anchored his ship in the bay and
came in a small boat to the city. The people, joyful over his decision,
decided to give him a public leave-taking.

Within a few days another ship sailed into the bay, commanded by Captain
Chambers, who insisted that he had no tea on board. When told that his
vessel would be searched, he admitted that he had a few chests. That
same night the citizens who had all day thronged the wharf, suddenly
swarmed aboard the vessel. The hatches were ripped up, and the eighteen
chests of tea hauled on deck. There they were torn into pieces and the
contents scattered into the river. Having done this the crowds dispersed
and all was quiet again.

Next day came the public leave-taking of Captain Lockyer. He had spent
the night at the coffee-house in Wall Street, and here, early in the
morning, there was a great assembly. The bells of the city chimed
merrily; flags floated from the houses, and the ships in the bay were
decorated with gay colors.

From the balcony of the coffee-house the Captain bowed while the crowds
cheered him. Finally a committee escorted him to the foot of Wall
Street, where he embarked in a pilot-boat which took him to his ship.
Another committee, with far less ceremony, escorted Captain Chambers to
the same boat, and the two captains sailed away.

[Illustration: Ferry-House on East River, 1746, from an Old Print.]

Even before this had happened in New York, the citizens of Boston had
dumped a cargo of tea into their harbor, and the British Parliament had
closed the port of Boston; which meant that no ships were permitted to
sail in or out of it. By this it was hoped to stop all business in
Boston, and really it did put an end to a great part of it. And General
Thomas Gage, who now had charge of the British troops in America,
undertook to see that the orders of the King were properly enforced.

This closing of the port of Boston aroused the thirteen British colonies
in America. After a great deal of letter-writing it was decided to have
men from each of these colonies meet and talk matters over. In September
of this year (1774) they met in Philadelphia. At this meeting, which was
called the First Continental Congress, it was decided that laws were
made in England that were unjust to America, that the colonists objected
to taxes that were fixed by Parliament and would buy no more goods from
England while a tax was upon them; and that they objected to the support
of a large British army in the colonies.

And this First Continental Congress sent a petition to King George III.,
saying that the unjust laws should be done away with.

How the King received this petition is soon told.




CHAPTER XXIII

THE SONS of LIBERTY at TURTLE BAY


Now in New York almost everybody was anxious to carry out the decision
of this First Continental Congress.

But the Assembly said that the Congress had not been a lawful gathering
and must not be obeyed. The colonists replied that they would do as they
thought best, no matter what the King's Assembly ordered.

You must know that some of the people supported the royal cause and were
called Royalists or Tories. The others were called Patriots or Whigs.
The English called the patriots rebels.

It had now come to be the year 1775, and matters in Boston where the
port had been closed were growing worse and worse. In the month of April
some British soldiers passing through Lexington shot down a number of
patriots. Messengers on horseback sped through the colonies carrying
news of this massacre. It was the first serious encounter of the
Revolution and the colonists realized that they were now at war with the
British. Men rushed to arms. Farmers left their homes. Professional men
hurried from the towns. Within a few days an army surrounded Boston and
penned in the British troops there.

When the messenger reached New York with the news of the Lexington
massacre, a Provisional Assembly was formed which was to look after the
city without regard to the Assembly which already existed. And this is
the way it came about that there was a king's government and a people's
government. Shops were closed and armed citizens paraded the streets.
Matters went on in this fashion for a month, when a Second Continental
Congress met at Philadelphia.

As it was now seen that there was to be a serious conflict with Great
Britain, the army gathered about Boston was adopted as the beginning of
the forces to be assembled and was termed the Continental Army, and
George Washington was appointed commander-in-chief.

[Illustration: East River Shore, 1750, from an Old Print.]

Knowing that they would soon need guns and powder, the Sons of Liberty
seized those held by the royal troops in New York. There was quite a
quantity in a storehouse at Turtle Bay, a quiet little cove three miles
above the town, that curved into a wild and rocky part of the East River
shore. Nowadays the city extends for miles and miles above it. If you go
to Forty-ninth Street and the East River you will see all that remains
of it. Although the houses are built thick about it, there is still an
air of seclusion. Everywhere else along the shore are piers and
bath-houses and wharves and ships and shipping.

So at this Turtle Bay, far from the town, the royal troops had a
storehouse for their arms. A small band of the Sons of Liberty, one dark
night, floated down the river, guided their vessel into the bay,
overpowered the guards before they were fairly aroused, and loaded their
boat with the enemy's powder and guns. Then they made off, and before
the morning dawned had placed the stores safe in the hands of the
patriots.

Then the War of the Revolution broke in full fury.




CHAPTER XXIV

THE WAR of the REVOLUTION


In this month of June, in the year 1775, there were quite a number of
British soldiers in the city, and many of the patriots believed that
they should be made prisoners. But the Provisional Assembly decreed that
the orders of the Second Continental Congress must be obeyed. And these
orders were not to molest the soldiers as long as they did not try to
build fortifications or remove powder and guns from the city.

But early in this month of June it was learned that the soldiers were
about to go to Boston. More than that, it was known that there was a
secret order under which they were to take guns and powder with them.

The Sons of Liberty were hastily called to a meeting. One of them,
Marinus Willett, was hurrying through Broad Street toward the
Coffee-House where the meeting was to be held, when he came upon the
soldiers moving silently along with five carts loaded with chests of
arms. Alone, and without an instant's hesitation, Willett clutched at
the bridle of the first horse. The company stopped. There was an angry
parley, the officers claiming the right to leave the city with the arms,
and making an effort to do so without raising a general alarm. But
friends of Willett came to his assistance. The five carts were driven
away by the patriots and the soldiers went on but without the arms. Long
years afterward a bronze tablet was placed on a house in Broad Street
close by Beaver (and is there now), to mark the spot where the brave
Willett stopped the ammunition wagons.

In this same month a battle was fought between the British army in
Boston and the Continental army which was encamped outside of Boston.
It was fought on a bit of high ground near the city, and was called
the Battle of Bunker Hill.

Just at this time word came that General George Washington, the newly
appointed commander-in-chief, was on his way from Philadelphia to the
Continental army, and would pass through New York City. Washington with
his aides and a company of soldiers were hurrying across New Jersey on
horseback, and when they reached the city they were met by a committee
from the Provisional Assembly, with a number of patriot soldiers.

The next morning Washington set out for Boston. He had not yet left the
town when a ship appeared in the bay having on board Governor William
Tryon, who had been visiting in England for nearly a year. Governor
Tryon did not remain long in the city though, as it was not a
comfortable place for a royal Governor just then. He hurriedly left one
night and went aboard one of the British ships in the bay.

At the close of this year Washington was still before Boston with the
Continental army. Another section of the army was in the North, fighting
against the British in Canada. This last branch was encamped about the
walls of Quebec in the last month of the year. It was under the command
of General Richard Montgomery, of New York, a brilliant soldier who had
fought in the French and Indian wars. Quebec was stormed, but was too
strong to be taken. Montgomery fell crying, "Men of New York, you will
not fear to follow where your general leads." He was buried with
military honors in Quebec, for the British honored him as a brave man.
Forty-three years later his remains were removed to New York, and placed
beneath the portico of St. Paul's Chapel, where his tomb may now be
seen.

Fighting by the side of Montgomery when he fell was a youth who was
singled out for his bravery. His name was Aaron Burr. You are to hear
more of him, for many and many a time in after years the eyes of the
entire country were turned upon him.




CHAPTER XXV

A BATTLE on LONG ISLAND


And now, early in the next spring, George Washington came again to
New York, having at last forced the British troops from Boston. The
city, which was under the control of the patriots, was in a state of
excitement, as it seemed probable that this was to be the next point
of attack. Every person who favored the cause of the King, or who was
suspected of favoring it, was looked upon with distrust. One-third of
the citizens had fled. The soldiers of the Continental army were
arriving daily. Women and children were rarely seen upon the streets.
Many of the royalists' houses, which had been closed when their owners
fled, were broken open to give sleeping quarters to the soldiers.

At the outbreak of the war the people's grievance had been simply
taxation without representation, but by this time the desire for
complete independence had taken fast hold of them. This feeling swept
through the colonies, and when the Continental Congress met in June of
this year, it voted that the united colonies should be free and
independent States and have no further political connection with Great
Britain. A declaration of independence was adopted on July 4th, and the
British colonies became the United States of America.

A horseman brought the news to New York, and there was great rejoicing.
The soldiers of the new Union then in the city were ordered to the
Common, and there, early in the evening, standing in a hollow
square--close by where the City Hall is now--and surrounded by a great
concourse of people, Washington read the address that proclaimed the
birth of a free and independent nation.

Following the reading the great throng applauded and then, filled with
enthusiasm, rushed away. At the City Hall in Wall Street they tore down
the painting of King George III. and trampled it under foot. On again
they went to the Bowling Green, and there they dragged down the statue
of the same royal person which had been erected only a few years before.
The scattered fragments of the leaden statue were afterward gathered up
and moulded into bullets.

This same month General William Howe, commander of the British army, had
landed on Staten Island, with his brother, Admiral Howe of the British
navy, and with the soldiers and sailors of their commands, made up a
fine, well-drilled army of 35,000 men, who had come to fight a force of
20,000 recruits; men not at all well-versed in war, and nearly half of
whom were ill and not able to be on duty.

But Washington calmly watched the British on Staten Island, and the
British ships, more than 400 of them, in the bay, and was not at all
dismayed. Once General Howe wrote to Washington suggesting measures that
would lead to peace, but nothing came of it.

Late in the month of August the fighting commenced. General Howe led his
forces to Long Island--led 21,000 men, for he thought that the best way
to capture New York was to first vanquish the army on Long Island by an
overwhelming force. Then the subduing of the city across the river would
be easy.

Washington hurried what men he could across to Long Island to assist
those already there. But even then the Americans were outnumbered as two
to one. The patriots fought long and well, but they were defeated. Two
hundred or more were killed, and three times as many, including three
generals, were made prisoners. But more than 300 of the British were
also killed.

The day after the battle, the American army was in Brooklyn, penned in
on the land side by the British troops and on the other by the wide,
swift-running river. It was raining in torrents. Washington was there.
He planned a retreat that was to save his army. All the boats to be
found along the shores of the Island of Manhattan were taken to Brooklyn
in the dead of night. Silently the soldiers were put aboard, so silently
that, although the British were almost within speaking distance, no
sound of the departing army reached them. The point where they embarked
was close by where the East River Bridge now touches the Brooklyn shore.
It was daylight before the last of the troops got aboard, but a heavy
fog shielded them as well as had the darkness.

When the sun swept the fog away, General Howe gazed in wonder at the
spot where the American forces had been the night before. But they
were gone, with the swiftness and silence of magic! The magician was
Washington, who had not slept from the hour of defeat until his men were
safe again in New York. But they were not to remain there long, as more
exciting work was before them.




CHAPTER XXVI


THE BRITISH OCCUPY NEW YORK

Miles and miles above the little city of New York, on a road which led
up through the Island of Manhattan, there was a stately house in a
stretch of country and forest land overlooking the Hudson River. This
was the house of Charles Ward Apthorpe and was known as the Apthorpe
mansion. Here General Washington went after the retreat from Long
Island, to devise a plan for the battles that were to come.

The city was well fortified, but Washington understood full well that
it could not be held long against a British attack. For the British
soldiers were already on the islands of the East River, and the British
ships held possession of the harbor and of both rivers. So Washington
sent the main body of his army to Harlem Heights at the northern end of
the Island of Manhattan, and left only a force of 4,000 men, under
General Putnam, in New York.

Washington desiring to learn the plans of the enemy, called for someone
who would be willing to go into the British lines. This was a dangerous
undertaking, for capture meant certain death. But there was a young
officer who was anxious to undertake the mission, and the arrangements
were made. This was Nathan Hale. In disguise he made his way, learned
the number of the enemy, and learned, too, all about the plan of attack.
With this information he was hurrying back to General Washington, when
he was recognized as belonging to the American army, and was arrested.
In a few days, when he was tried, he freely admitted that he had acted
as Washington's spy. He died as he had lived--bravely. A moment before
he was hanged he was asked if he wished to say any word. "Yes," he
answered; and looking firmly into the faces of those who stood about
him, "I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country,"
No wonder that the memory of the Martyr Spy has lived through the
passing years!

Sixteen days after Washington and his men retreated from Long Island,
the British sailed up the East River and anchored opposite a little
inlet called Kip's Bay (at the foot of what is now Thirty-sixth Street).
They fired upon those who defended the bay, and under cover of this fire
landed; and the American soldiers scurried away up the island toward the
north.

General Howe led his men on for half a mile, until they reached a large
country house. This was the home, and all about it was the farm, of a
family named Murray (who gave their name to Murray Hill). These Murrays
were friendly to the patriots, but they were also well acquainted with
Governor Tryon, who was with the British army. So the army rested close
by the house, and Howe, Tryon, and the other officers were given a fine
dinner by Mrs. Murray.

[Illustration: Mrs. Murray's Dinner to British Officers.]

Now although the Americans had retreated north up the island from Kip's
Bay, and were safely on their way to the main army on Harlem Heights,
you must remember there were 4,000 soldiers still in the city. So the
British were in the centre of the island with a very large force; the
main body of the Americans was to the north; while to the south was this
little band of 4,000, far away from their army and in a position to be
trapped by the British. Had the British officers at once decided to
stretch their men across the island, the 4,000 would have been penned
up on the lower part and would have been made prisoners. It therefore
seemed to Putnam's men that there was but one way for them to escape
capture, and that was by slipping past the British who rested at Murray
house and joining the main army on Harlem Heights.

The Murrays understood the condition of affairs, so they were
particularly cordial to their British guests and detained them as long
as they could at dinner. They were still feasting when General Putnam
started his 4,000 men marching toward the north.

[Illustration: Howe's Head-Quarters, Beekman House.]

He galloped far in advance, for the country was rough and his soldiers
could walk but slowly. He galloped north, and Washington, hanging to the
rear of the retreating troops from Kip's Bay, the generals met where two
roads crossed, close by where Broadway now crosses Forty-third Street.
Washington instructed Putnam to hurry his 4,000 on before they were
irretrievably cut off from the main army. They did hurry on. They drew
near the Murray house; they formed a line two miles long that moved
silently over the road that led them to within half a mile of where the
British soldiers were feasting. The line passed this point. Scarcely had
the last man gone by when the British were on the move, half an hour too
late for the capture of 4,000 prisoners.

Now the American forces were all together in a solid mass, moving toward
the upper end of the island; plodding through pouring rain, almost
dropping from the exhaustion of their long march--but safe.

This same night a division of the British soldiers occupied New York.
The others, close on the heels of the American army, waited for the
morning.