Chapter III: Quod Erat Demonstrandum (2)

Among other public measures and acts of Governor Dongan may be mentioned, that he proposed to the home government the establishment of post-offices, or "post-houses," as they were called, all along the Atlantic coast within the English dominions, and the establishment of a mint. French Protestants, resorting to the colony for trade or business of any kind, were not to be molested. The fort was supported for one year at his private expense, during the insufficiency of the public revenue under Collector Santen. He obtained a release from the Ranseleers to the lands in Albany, and then granted a charter to that town; and he endeavored to bring about the union of New Jersey and Connecticut, under one and the same government with New York, as a measure of public safety and strength. In 1686, the governor's salary was raised from £400 to £600 per annum. The governor's residence was at the fort, and there was attached to the office the products or rents of a farm, called, at various times, the governor's, duke's, or king's farm, and of another smaller piece of land, called the queen's garden, which were subsequently granted to and remain to this day the property of the corporation of Trinity Church. It may also be mentioned, as an evidence of Governor Dongan's popularity, that there is to be found, in a list of the titles of acts passed by the general assembly in 1684, the following title, "A Bill for a present to the Governor."

We are told by the historians that "considerable improvements were made in the city in Governor Dongan's time." [Footnote 189]

[Footnote 189: Valentine.]

The city wall, erected in 1653, on the present line of Wall street, which derived its name from this circumstance, ran through the farm of Jan Jansen Damen; and from Broadway to Pearl street, the lands north of the wall were, in Governor Dongan's time, in possession of Damen's heirs, who were now induced to part with the same, so that the wall was removed and these valuable lots brought at once into the market, and were soon improved. {773} Afterward, Governor Dongan determined still further to enlarge the city, to demolish the old fortifications, which were in a state of decay, and to erect new defences further out. Wall street was laid out on the site of the old city wall. "The street was afterwards favored by the erection of the city hall on the site of the present custom-house, and of Trinity Church, facing its westerly extremity, and soon became one of principal streets of the city." In 1687, a new street was laid out between Whitehall street and Old Slip, and the corporation sold the lots on condition that the purchasers should build the street out toward the water and protect it against the washing of the tide. These improvements were not carried into effect until several years afterward. This is the present Water street. In the second year of Governor Dongan's administration, 1684, the vessels of New York consisted of three barques, three brigantines, twenty-six sloops, and forty-six open boats; facts which convey some notion of the commerce and prosperity of New York at that time.

Governor Dongan manifested great activity and energy in the conduct of public affairs. His report on the condition of the colony is a document replete with intelligence, vigor, and practical experience, and shows that no part of the colony, however remote, escaped his attention and care; and no branch of the public service was neglected by him. Mr. Santen, the collector of the port, became a defaulter to the amount of £3000, and was the occasion of great embarrassment and loss to Governor Dongan, who, however, on his part, acted promptly in the premises, by seizing the books of the delinquent official, causing him to be arrested and brought before the council for trial, and, on his proving refractory, sending him to England. While in England, the displaced collector preferred charges against Governor Dongan, who defended himself in that able and conclusive document, or report, on the condition of the colony, addressed to the lords of the home government, to which allusion has just been made. The following extract will show how characteristically he defended himself against one of Mr. Santen's charges:

"To the Tenth: Concerning my Covetousness, as hee is pleased to
term it. Here, (if Mr. Santen speaks true, in saying I have
been covetous,) it was in the management of this small Revenue
to the best advantage, and had Mr. Santen been as just as I
have been careful, the King had not been in debt, and I had
more in my pocket than now I have."

This document also shows how active Governor Dongan was to secure the beaver and other Indian trade for the province; his zeal would not stop short of confining the French to the other side of the great lakes, and William Penn and his people south of a line drawn from a point on the Delaware "to the falls in the Susquehanna." [Footnote 190]

[Footnote 190: Wyalusing Falls, Bradford County,
Pennsylvania.]

The report is also full of valuable suggestions on the future as well as the past and present government of the province, and contains valuable statistics relating to the courts of justice, the public revenues, trade and commerce, population, the Indians, shipping, agriculture, and every other public interest.

Governor Dongan distinguished his administration in an especial manner by his attention to the relations and interests of the province connected with the Indian tribes within and adjoining it; and he is admitted by historians to have surpassed all his predecessors in this department of public affairs, and to have been held in the greatest esteem by the Indians themselves. {774} While seeking their alliance, their trade, and their submission to his government, he ever treated them with frankness, generosity, and true friendship. The grateful savages always addressed him by the friendly name of "Corlear;" [Footnote 191] "and the name of 'Dongan, the white father,' was remembered in the Indian lodges long after it had grown indifferent to his countrymen at Manhattan." His master-stroke of Indian policy was in gaining the alliance of the Five Nations, securing their submission to the English government in preference to that of France, and carrying our northern frontier to the great lakes.

[Footnote 191: This was the name of one of the old Dutch
inhabitants, who had conferred a great boon upon the Indians,
and by his timely intervention saved a large number of them
from a contemplated massacre in one of their wars. Whenever
afterward they wished to address a person in terms of strong
attachment and confidence, they called him "_Corlear_."]

The Five Nations were a confederacy of the five most powerful Indian tribes of the north: the Mohawks, the Oneidas, the Onondagas, the Cayugas, and the Senecas. They were usually called, by the French, by the name of "Iroquois." Their confederation dates back beyond the limits of their history, as known to the white race; and both, like that of other nations in their origin, are only known to us through dim traditions and fabulous exaggerations. They were united when the French came to Canada; for we are told, that, "when Champlain arrived in Canada, he found them united in a war against the Adirondacks, or Algonquins; and, as he settled in the country of the latter, he accompanied them in one of their hostile incursions, and, by the assistance of the French, a body of the Five Nations was defeated." They long felt a resentment for this act of hostility, although they received missionaries from the French, and, in a great measure, embraced the Christian faith. On the arrival of the Dutch, a trade sprang up between the inhabitants of New Amsterdam and the Indians of the Five Nations; and the latter, by exchanging their furs for fire-arms, became more powerful and more terrible to their enemies. It does not seem that the Dutch government laid any claim to their country, or to their allegiance; though Governor Dongan, in his controversy with the French, claimed that his pretensions were based upon a Dutch title. Their form of government was federal, like our own. Each nation had its own separate government, for the regulation of their local and individual affairs, and a general government in all things relating to their common interests. They were the most powerful, the most permanent, and the most capable Indian organization in America. Like the Romans, they incorporated the nations they conquered into the confederacy, with equal rights; or, if this were impracticable, they destroyed their enemies entirely. Such was their power that they exacted tribute from neighboring tribes. In 1715, the Tuscaroras of North Carolina were aggregated to the original confederacy, which was thereafter known by the name of the Six Nations.

Governor Dongan soon perceived the importance of securing the friendship and alliance of these powerful and warlike tribes. The Dutch had made a treaty of peace with the Five Nations, which had never been openly broken; but as it was necessary to keep treaties with the Indians constantly renewed, in order to prevent them from being forgotten; and, as the Indians had considered themselves, on several occasions, slighted by the English governors, they had more than once invaded the territories of the latter. {775} The French in Canada, as the first Europeans who had visited their country, claimed it and the allegiance of the tribes. French missionaries, men of heroic self-sacrifice and profound piety, were among them, preaching the Gospel, receiving their confessions of faith, offering up the Christian sacrifice in their midst, and doing all in their power to improve their temporal and spiritual condition. It was natural, it was probably necessary, that these pious missionaries should bring their flocks in contact with their own government; and, while their mission and holy office among the Indians were utterly divested of all political or worldly motives, they could not avoid being powerful instruments, with the French government, in securing the advancement of French interests among those nations. Governor Dongan, on the other hand, had by his kindness and frankness completely gained their confidence, and was succeeding well in cementing the relations between himself and the Five Nations. He soon discovered the presence of the French missionaries in their midst an obstacle to this policy; and, at the same time, as a Catholic, he felt a profound interest in their religious enlightenment, and in their adherence to the church of which he was himself a devoted member. To avoid the conflict which might arise between the duty he owed, on the one hand, to his church and his conscience, and, on the other, to his king, he resolved on the plan of insisting upon his claim to the allegiance of the Five Nations, claiming the country to the great lakes, and upon the withdrawal of the French missionaries, and the substitution of English Jesuit missionaries in their place. Though receiving little encouragement from the home government in these measures, Governor Dongan carried them so far into effect as to secure the withdrawal of the French missionaries from three of the Five Nations, and to obtain the services of English Jesuits at New York, destined for the Indian missions, in the place of French priests. Father Harrison arrived in New York in 1685, and Father Gage arrived there in 1686. But, in consequence of their ignorance of the Indian language, they were compelled to remain in the city while studying it and preparing for the mission. War, too, soon rendered the field of their missionary zeal and labor inaccessible to them, and the sequel of events shows that it was neither their own nor the good fortune of the Indians that they should ever reach it. A Catholic writer [Footnote 192] thus alludes to Governor Dongan's position on this, to him, delicate subject:

"There can be no doubt that Governor Dongan, on coming among
the New Yorkers, found that if the measures for converting the
Indians were to proceed, the political interests of his own
country required that English missionaries should take the
place of the French Jesuits, some of whom were incorporated
among the Five Nations. The historians of New York assert that
no previous governor had made himself so well acquainted with
Indian affairs, or conducted the intercourse between the
settlers and Indians with so much ability and regard to the
interests of the subjects of Great Britain; while, at the same
time, he was held in high esteem by the Indians themselves. And
it is mentioned, to his honor, by the same historians, who are
unsparing in their condemnation of his religion, that he did
not permit the identity of his faith with that of the Catholic
missionaries of France to prevent him from opposing their
residence among the Indian tribes in his province; their
influence being calculated to promote the interests and policy
of France, and weaken the authority of the English. But it was
loyalty to his own government, and a just regard for the
interests confided to him, and not indifference to the pious
work of Christianizing the Indians, that induced Governor
Dongan to oppose the missions of the French."

[Footnote 192: Campbell's _Life and Times of Archbishop
Carroll_.]

{776}

Another Catholic author [Footnote 193] thus writes on the same subject:

[Footnote 193: Shea's _Hist. Cath. Missions_.]

"The English colony of New York had now passed under the sway
of Colonel Dongan, one of the most enterprising and active
governors that ever controlled the destinies of any of the
English provinces. His short but vigorous administration showed
that he was not only thoroughly acquainted with the interests
of England, but able to carry them out. A Catholic, who had
served in the French armies, he was biassed neither by his
religion nor his former services in the duties of the station
now devolved upon him. ... Claiming for England all the country
south of the great lakes, he it was who made them a boundary.
His first step was to extend the power of New York over the
five Iroquois cantons, and bind those warlike tribes to the
English interest. His next, to recall the Caughnawagas to their
ancient home, by promises of a new location on the plains of
Saratoga, where a church should be built for them, and an
English Jesuit stationed as their missionary. In this plan he
found his efforts thwarted by the missionaries, who, French by
birth and attachment, looked with suspicion on the growing
English influence in the cantons, as fatal to the missions
which had cost so much toil, and who relied little on Dongan's
fair words, and subsequent promise to replace them by English
members of their society."

The same author, in another work, expresses his confidence in the sincerity of Governor Dongan's intentions and promises, and points to the three English Jesuits brought to New York by him, as proof of both. [Footnote 194]

[Footnote 194: _New York Doc. Hist._ Letter of Mr. Shea,
iii. 110.]

The French government of Canada was equally bent on reducing the Five Nations to subjection to the king of France. It required no serious pretexts to induce the French to carry their plans into effect by open war; and pretexts were not long wanting. The murder of a Seneca chief at Mackinaw; an attack by the Iroquois on a French post in Illinois; the seizure of a flotilla--fanned the embers of war into a flame, and the subjugation of the Five Nations seemed to be at hand. A large Canadian army was organized for this purpose. It is said by historians, and with probable truth, that the French king had remonstrated with James II. against Colonel Dongan's interference with the French missions, and that James had instructed his governor to desist from this policy; also, that James, on hearing of the designs of the Canadians on the Five Nations, supposing that these warlike and refractory tribes, either as subjects or enemies, would be always a thorn in the side of his province, while within its limits, ordered Colonel Dongan not to interfere with those designs. But Colonel Dongan entertained very different views on these subjects. Not only did he insist on replacing the French Jesuits with English members of the same society, but he also proposed, both to the home government and to the governors of Maryland and Virginia, that these two provinces should unite with New York in resisting the encroachments of the French. He also proposed to the home government a plan of emigration from Ireland to New York, and that one of his own nephews should be appointed to conduct and manage the enterprise. He wrote to the home government on this subject as follows:

"It will be very necessary to send over men to build those
forts [the proposed forts along the northern frontier.] ... My
lord, there are people enough in Ireland, who had pretences to
estates there, and are of no advantage to the country, and may
live here very happy. I do not doubt, if his majesty think fit
to employ my nephew, he will bring over as many as the king
will find convenient to send, who will be no charge to his
majesty after they are landed."

{777}

Governor Dongan, notwithstanding his instructions to the contrary, "was far too honorable to see his allies, (the Five Nations,) murdered in cold blood, in obedience to the will of his superiors." He sent his messengers to warn the Iroquois of the impending danger, and invited them to meet him at Albany, to renew the old treaty of peace, which had been long ago made between them and the Dutch, and which had almost faded from the memories of the chiefs.

Both met punctually at the appointed rendezvous; and Colonel Dongan made one of his most characteristic and effective speeches to them, in which he explained his claims upon them, demonstrated the hostility of the French and his own friendship for them, made promises of future aid, and proposed an alliance. The treaty here entered into "was long respected by both parties." The clouds of war now burst upon the Five Nations, but found them not unprepared. Two invasions of the French were repelled, and finally the invaders, weakened by sickness and unacquainted with the Indian modes of war, returned with scattered ranks to their own country, to await the terrible retaliation of an injured foe. The warriors of the Five Nations burst with fury on the Canadian settlements, "burning, ravaging, and slaying without mercy, until they had nearly exterminated the French from the territory. The war continued until, of all the French colonies, Quebec, Montreal, and Three Rivers alone remained, and the French dominion in America was almost annihilated; Governor Dongan remaining," says the historian, "a firm friend of the Indians during his administration, aiding them by his council, and doing them every good office in his power." [Footnote 195]

[Footnote 195: Booth's _History of the City of New
York_.]

By his bold and independent course, so much at variance with the views of his royal master, Governor Dongan incurred the displeasure of James II., who suspended him from his functions, and about April, 1688, the governor resigned his office. The functions of the office of governor then devolved upon the deputy-governor, Nicholson. Smith, the historian, says of Dongan's removal from the office which he had graced so well, and in which he had done so much for the good of his king and his fellow-citizens, that "he fell into the king's displeasure through his zeal for the true interest of the province."

The voluminous correspondence between Governor Dongan and Mons. Denonville, governor of Canada, on the relations of the two rival English and French colonies, published in the _Colonial_ and _Documentary_ histories of New York, is replete with interest, as containing valuable information concerning the affairs of the day, and as fairly illustrating the character of our governor. Though frequently running into bitter personalities and irreconcilable conflict, the letters of these two officials were not devoid of personal courtesies and amenities. Thus, we see the French governor acting as a mediator with his sovereign in behalf of Governor Dongan, in order that he might recover his claim for services rendered in the French army; and we find Governor Dongan, at one time, regretting that distance prevented him from meeting and interchanging social civilities with his rival; and, at another, sending to the Canadian governor a present of oranges, which, he had heard, were a great rarity in Canada, and regretting that the messenger's want of "carriage" prevented him from sending more.

{778}

There was one point, however, upon which Governor Dongan was ever uncompromising; this was his determination to claim the great lakes as his boundary, and to submit to nothing short of this. He carried his point even in his own day; for the royal arms of England were emblazoned on the Indian castles along that border, English forts defended it, and the Five Nations recognized the king of England as their father. Though wars intervened, this boundary was afterward recognized, by solemn treaty, as the line dividing the English and French dominions in our day, the visitor to the great lakes, and the tourist at the falls of Niagara, sees the American flag floating where Governor Dongan planted its predecessor, the standard of our English ancestors. Then,

"Proudly hath it floated
Through the battles of the sea,
When the red-cross flag o'er smoke-wreaths played
Like the lightning in its glee."
_Hemans_.

Now,

"When Freedom from her mountain height
Unfurled her standard to the air,
She tore the azure robe of night,
And set her stars of glory there."
_Drake_.

After his retirement from office, Governor Dongan spent his time in New York and on Staten Island, in both of which places he had acquired some property, but resided mostly on his estate on Staten Island. He was offered the commission of a major-general in the British army, and the command of a regiment in the service of James II., all of which he declined to accept.

From the time that James II. ascended the English throne, discontents began to arise among his Protestant subjects, on both sides of the ocean, at the transfer of power from the Protestants to the Catholics. The appointment of Governor Dongan, "a professed papist," was offensive at first to the people of the province of New York; but his upright administration, his devotion to the best interests of the colony, and his personal popularity, quelled all actual disturbance during his term of office. We have seen that, soon after his arrival, civil and religious liberty were guaranteed, and that he selected the council from members of the Dutch Reformed Church, in order to disarm all prejudices. He certainly was not disposed, however, to debar himself and his fellow-Catholic subjects from the enjoyment of that religious liberty which he had done so much to secure for others. He had been accompanied to New York, in 1683, by Father Thomas Harvey, S.J., who performed the divine services in the governor's chapel, in the fort, and attended to the spiritual wants of the governor, and of such Catholics as were in New York during his administration. Fathers Harrison and Gage were sent for, and arrived in New York afterward, with the view of superseding the French missionaries among the Indians. It does not appear that large numbers of Catholics emigrated to New York, during his administration, for his plan for encouraging emigration from Ireland was not carried into effect; yet it is reasonable to suppose that the number of Catholics increased somewhat under the favorable auspices of a Catholic governor. And, although Matthias Plowman, the successor to Mr. Santer, the late collector, was a Catholic, we do not find that Governor Dongan filled many of the public offices in his gift with Catholics. Mr. Nicholson, the deputy-governor, into whose hands Governor Dongan resigned his office, was not appointed by him, but was the deputy of Governor Andros, who had been appointed by the home government governor of New England and New York, and whose headquarters were at Boston; this Mr. Nicholson was said to have been "an adherent of the Catholic faith." Religious controversies ran high, however, during this period, and historians generally inform us that plots were formed by the Protestants, not only in England, under James, but also in the province of New York, under Governor Dongan. {779} This seems probable from the readiness with which the people on both sides of the Atlantic rose on their Catholic rulers as soon as the opportunity presented itself. This opportunity was afforded not long after Governor Dongan's retirement from office, in 1689, on the invasion of England by William Prince of Orange, and the abdication and flight of James II. from England.

The tone of public sentiment in New York in 1689 is thus described by Bishop Bayley, in his treatise on the _History of the Catholic Church on the Island of New York:_

"Smith, describing the disposition and temper of the
inhabitants of the colony at the time, shows that,
notwithstanding the personal popularity of the governor, the
increase of Catholics was looked upon with a suspicious eye. 'A
general disaffection,' he says,'to the government prevailed
among the people. Papists began to settle in the colony under
the smiles of the governor. The collector of the revenues and
several principal officers threw off the mask, and openly
avowed their attachment to the doctrines of Rome. A Latin
school was set up, and the teacher strongly suspected for a
Jesuit; in a word, the whole body of the people trembled for
the Protestant cause.' The news of the revolution in England,
and the subsequent proceedings under Leisler, probably caused
such Catholics as were in a situation to get away, to withdraw
at the same time with the governor. The documents connected
with Leisler's usurpation of authority, as published by
O'Callaghan in his _Documentary History of New York_, show
how studiously he appealed to the religious prejudices of the
people, in order to excite odium against the friends of the
late governor, and establish his own claims. The 'security of
the Protestant religion,' and the 'diabolical designs of the
wicked and cruel papists,' are made to ring their changes
through his various proclamations and letters. Depositions and
affidavits were published, in which it was sworn that
Lieutenant-Governor Nicholson had been several times seen
assisting at mass; that the papists on Staten Island 'did
threaten to cut the inhabitants' throats,' and to come and burn
the city; 'that M. De La Prearie had arms in his house for
fifty men; that eighty or a hundred men were coming from Boston
and other places, that were hunted away, (no doubt, not for
their goodness,) and that there were several of them Irish and
papists; that a good part of the soldiers that were in the fort
already were papists,' etc. Among other depositions, is one of
Andries and Jan Meyer, in which they declare that, 'being
delivered from a papist governor, Thomas Dongan, they thought
that the deputy-governor in the Fort would defend and establish
the true religion; but we found to the contrary. There was a
cry that all the images erected by Col. Thomas Dongan in the
fort would be broken down and taken away; but when we were
working in the fort with others, it was commanded, after the
departure of Sir Edmond Andros, by said Nicholson, to help the
priest, John Smith,' (supposed to be a name assumed for the
sake of safety by one of the Jesuit fathers of New York,) 'to
remove, for which we were very glad; but it was soon done,
because said removal was not far off, but in a better room in
the fort; and ordered to make all things ready for said priest,
according to his will, and perfectly, and to erect all things
as he ordered, from that time,'" etc.

Mr. Graham says of the state of public feeling prevailing at this time in New York, that

"An outrageous dread of popery had invaded the minds of the
lower classes of the people, and not only diminished real and
substantial evils in their esteem, but nearly extinguished
common sense in their understandings, and common justice in
their sentiments."

Deputy-Governor Nicholson took possession of the government in August, 1688. On the 24th of that month, Governor Andros issued a proclamation for a general thanksgiving throughout the English provinces for the birth of a prince, the son of King James, and heir to the English throne. But by the next mail news of quite a different character arrived: the invasion of England by the Prince of Orange, the flocking of the people to his standard, the abdication and flight of King James, and the proclamation of William and Mary as king and queen of England. {780} Mr. Nicholson and his followers recognized the authority of William and Mary, and, claiming that the commissions issued under James II. still held good, proposed to exercised the functions of the public offices under them, until instructions should be received from the new government at home. They were supported by the more respectable and wealthy part of the citizens. But the popular party took the opposite ground, and contended that all the commissions were now invalid, and that the people should take the government into their own hands until the will of their present majesties should be heard from. They were led on by one Jacob Leisler, a successful merchant, but a bitter bigot and ambitious demagogue, and the leader of such as refused all social intercourse with Catholics. Leisler had been appointed as early as 1683, by Governor Dongan, commissioner of the Admiralty; but, while holding this office, he was deeply disaffected, and had previously gained some notoriety by his opposition to Rensselaer, an Episcopal minister and suspected papist, at Albany, who had been sent to the province by the Duke of York.

The revolution commenced in New York by the refusal of Leisler and others to pay revenue and taxes to Mr. Plowman, the collector, because he was a Catholic. The people of Long Island deposed their magistrates and elected new ones, and despatched a large body of militia to New York, "to seize the fort, and keep off popery, French invasion, and slavery." The public money, amounting to £773 12s., had been deposited, for safe keeping, in the fort which was garrisoned by a few soldiers commanded by a Catholic ensign. In order to secure this treasure, the popular party assembled on the 2d of June, 1689, and seized the fort. Leisler, who had refused to lead them to attack, on hearing of its seizure, went, with forty-seven men, to the fort, was welcomed by the citizens, and acknowledged as their leader. At a meeting of the people, a so-called "Committee of Safety" was appointed for the immediate government of the province, and Leisler was appointed to the chief command. Then followed the reign of terror described by Smith, Graham, and other historians. Catholics were hunted down in every direction, and many Protestants, suspected of being "papists" at heart, were treated in the same manner. Orders were issued for the arrest of Governor Dongan--who, since his retirement from office, had been quietly residing on his estate at Staten Island--and all other Catholics, who were compelled to fly for safety. Governor Dongan and other Catholics took shelter on board of a vessel in the harbor, where they remained for weeks, during the height of the excitement. He probably was obliged to keep himself concealed. He fled to Rhode Island, and soon afterward returned to Staten Island; his servants were arrested, his personal effects--charged, in the frenzy of the hour, to embrace a number of arms--were seized at his mill on Staten Island; and all who pretended to hold commissions under him were ordered to be arrested. So effectually were the Catholics driven from the province that, in 1696, seven years afterward, on a census of Catholics, taken by the mayor of the city by order of Governor Fletcher, only nine names were returned, namely, Major Anthony Brockholes, William Douglass, John Cooley, Christiane Lawrence, Thomas Howarding, John Cavalier, John Patte, John Fenny, and Philip Cunningham.

{781}

Whether Governor Dongan returned to England, and again came out to the province after the excitement had abated, or remained concealed in the province or neighborhood, seems not to be clear. It is certain, however, that he was in New York in 1791 [sic]. It need only be added here that the "Charter of Liberties," passed in 1683, under a Catholic governor, was, with all other laws passed by the late general assembly, repealed by the Protestant assembly of New York, in 1691, and a so-called "Bill of Rights" passed, which expressly deprived Catholics of all their political and religious _rights_. In 1697 this "Bill of Rights" was repealed by King William, "probably as being too liberal," says Bishop Bayley; and, in 1700, an act was passed which recited that "Whereas, divers Jesuits, priests, and popish missionaries have, of late, come, and for some time have had this province, and others of his majesty's adjacent colonies, who, by their wicked and subtle insinuations, industriously labored to debauch, seduce, and withdraw the Indians from their due obedience to his most sacred majesty, and to excite and stir them up to sedition, rebellion, and open hostility against his majesty's priest, etc., remaining in or coming into the province after November 1st, 1700, should be "deemed and accounted an incendiary and disturber of the public peace and safety, and an enemy of the true Christian religion, and shall be adjudged to suffer _perpetual imprisonment_," that, in case of escape and capture, they should suffer _death_, and that harborers of priests should pay a fine of two hundred pounds, and stand three days in the pillory. If it is alleged that the law of 1691 was the result of high party excitement and public alarm, what excuse, it may be asked, is to be alleged for the more illiberal and persecuting law of 1700? It is but justice to James II., to point to the "Charter of Liberties" of 1683, passed with his own approbation, and at his suggestion, and then to the laws of 1691 and 1700, passed under William and Mary, and remark that, though the revolution gave the colonies William and Mary in the place of James, it also gave penal and odious laws, and a deceptive "Bill of Rights," in exchange for a "Charter of Liberties" that gave what its title professed to confer. In Maryland, too, whose Catholic founders proclaimed civil and religious liberty as the basis of their commonwealth, the same scenes, on a more extended scale, were at the same time being enacted; the persecutors in New York were in intimate correspondence with their co-laborers in Maryland and New England.

In 1691, when Governor Dongan saw, from the passage of the "Bill of Rights," that Catholics were excluded from the benefits of government, and subjected to persecution, he returned to England.

While he was governor of New York, in 1685, his brother William, who had, in 1661, been created Baron Dongan and Viscount Claine in the Irish peerage, was advanced to the earldom of Limerick, with remainder, on the failure of direct issue, to Colonel Thomas Dongan. On the breaking out of the revolution and the flight of James II., William, Earl of Limerick, adhered to that monarch, and followed him into France; whereupon his estates were forfeited, and granted to the Earl of Athlone, an adherent of William. {782} This grant was confirmed by an act of the Irish parliament, but with a clause saving the right of Colonel Thomas Dongan. Colonel Dongan, on his return to England, made every effort to recover some portion of his brother's estates. His brother, the Earl of Limerick, died at St. Germain in 1698, whereupon Colonel Dongan was introduced to William III. as successor of the late Earl of Limerick, and the new earl did homage to the king for his earldom, and, according to the feudal custom, kissed the king's hand on succeeding to the rank. He was allowed by the government, about the same time, £2500, in tallies, in part payment for advances made by him for public purposes while governor of New York. His persevering efforts to recover the estates of his deceased brother so far finally succeeded as to induce the passage of an act of parliament for his relief, on the 25th of May, 1702. He subsequently offered himself for service in the American colonies, but it does not appear that he was ever in the service of the crown after his return to England. He died in London, on the 14th day of December, 1715, and was interred in the church-yard of St. Pancras, Middlesex. The inscription on his tombstone reads as follows:

"The Right Honble Thomas Dongan,
Earl of Limerick.
Died December 14th,
aged eighty-one years,
1715.
Requiescat in Pace. Amen."

In addition to the encomiums passed upon him both by Catholic and Protestant historians, the following, from De Courcy and Shea's _Catholic Church in the United States_, is here inserted:

"This able governor was not long enough in office to realize
all his plans for the good of the colony, where he had
expended, for the public good, most of his private fortune. In
this, as in many other points, the Catholic Governor Dongan
forms a striking contrast with the mass of colonial rulers, who
sought their own profit at the expense of the countries
submitted to them. To Dongan, too, New York is indebted for the
convocation of the first legislative assembly, the colony
having been, till then, ruled and governed at the good pleasure
of the governor; and this readiness to admit the people to a
share in the government is a fact which the enemies of James
II. should not conceal in their estimate of that Catholic
monarch."

Mr. Moore gives us the following particulars in his note, cited among the authorities to this article:

"This nobleman died without issue. His estates in America were
settled chiefly on three nephews, John, Thomas, and Walter
Dongan. Lieutenant-Colonel Edward Vaughan Dongan, of the third
battalion of New Jersey Volunteers, who died of wounds received
in an attack on the British posts on Staten Island, in August,
1777, was son of the last-mentioned gentleman. John Charlton
Dongan, another collateral relative of the Earl of Limerick,
represented Richmond County in the New York Assembly, from 1786
to 1789. Representatives of this ancient family are still to be
found in New York."

[NOTE.--The above article is condensed from a forthcoming work
of Mr. R. H. Clarke, to be entitled, _Lives of Eminent
Catholics of the United States_.]

----------

{783}

Beethoven.

His Warning.

Years passed on, and Beethoven continued to reside at Vienna with his two brothers, who had followed him thither, and took the charge of his domestic establishment, so as to leave him entirely at leisure for composition. His reputation had advanced gradually but surely, and he now stood high, if not highest, among living masters. The prediction was beginning to be accomplished.

It was a mild evening in the latter part of September, and a large company was assembled at the charming villa of the Baron Raimond von Wetzlar, situated near Schönbrunn. They had been invited to be present at a musical contest between the celebrated Wolff and Beethoven. The part of Wolff was espoused with great enthusiasm by the baron; that of Beethoven by the Prince de Lichnowsky, and, as in all such matters, partisans swarmed on either side. The popular talk among the music-loving Viennese was, everywhere, discussion of the merits of the rival candidates for fame.

Beethoven was walking in one of the avenues of the illuminated garden, accompanied by his pupil, Ferdinand Ries. The melancholy that marked the composer's temperament seemed, more than ever, to have the ascendency over him.

"I confess to you, Ferdinand," said he, apparently in continuation of some previous conversation, "I regret my engagement with Sonnleithner."

"And yet you have written the opera?"

"I have completed it, but not to my own satisfaction. And I shall object to its being produced first at Vienna."

"Why so? The Viennese are your friends."

"For that very reason I will not appeal to their judgment; I want an impartial one. I distrust my genius for the opera."

"How can that be possible?"

"It is my intimacy with Salieri that has inclined me that way; nature did not suggest it; I can never feel at home there. Ferdinand, I am self-upbraided, and should be, were the applause of a thousand spectators sounding in my ears."

"Nay," said the student, "the artist assumes too much who judges himself."

"But I have not judged myself."

"Who, then, has dared to insinuate a doubt of your success?"

Beethoven hesitated; his impressions, his convictions, would seem superstition to his companion, and he was not prepared to encounter either raillery or ridicule. Just then the host, with a party of the guests, met them, exclaiming that they had been everywhere sought; that the company was all assembled in the saloon, and every thing ready for the exhibition.

"You are bent on making a gladiator of me, dear baron," cried the composer, "in order that I may be mangled and torn to pieces, for the popular amusement, by your favorite Wolff."

{784}

"Heaven forbid I should prejudge either combatant!" cried Von Wetzlar. "The lists are open; the prize is not to be awarded by me."

"But your good wishes--your hopes--"

"Oh! as to that, I must frankly own I prefer the good old school to your new-fangled conceits and innovations. But come--the audience waits."

Each in turn, the two rivals played a piece composed by himself, accompanied by select performers. Then each improvised a short piece. The delight of the spectators was called forth in different ways. In the production of Wolff a sustained elevation, clearness, and brilliancy recalled the glories of Mozart's school, and moved the audience to repeated bursts of admiration. In that of Beethoven there was a startling boldness, an impetuous rush of emotions, a frequency of abrupt contrasts--and withal a certain wildness and mystery--that irresistibly enthralled the feelings, while it outraged, at the same time, their sense of musical propriety. There was little applause, but the deep silence, prolonged even after the notes had ceased, told how intensely all had been interested.

The victory remained undecided. There was a clamor of eager voices among the spectators; but no one could collect the suffrages, nor determine which was the successful champion in the contest. The Prince Lichnowsky, however, stood up, and boldly claimed it for his favorite.

"Nay," interrupted Beethoven, advancing, "my dear prince, there has been no contest." He offered his hand to his opponent. "We may still esteem each other, Wolff; we are not rivals. Our style is essentially different; I yield to you the palm of excellence in the qualities that distinguish you."

"You are right, my friend," cried Wolff; "henceforth let there be no more talk of championship between us. I will hold him for my enemy who ventures to compare me with you--you so superior in the path you have chosen. It is a higher path than mine--an original one; I follow contentedly in the course marked out by others."

"But our paths lead to the same goal," replied Beethoven. "We will speed each other with good wishes; and embrace cordially when we meet _there_ at last."

There was an unusual solemnity in the composer's last words, and it put an end to the discussion. All responded warmly to his sentiment. But amidst the general murmur of approbation, one voice was heard that seemed strangely to startle Beethoven. His face grew pale, then flushed deeply; and the next moment he pressed his way hastily through the crowd, and seized by the arm a retreating figure.

"You shall see me in Vienna," whispered the stranger in his ear.

"Yet a word with you. You shall not escape me thus."

"_Auf wiedersehen!_" And shaking off the grasp, the stranger disappeared.

No one had observed his entrance; the host knew him not, and though most of the company remarked the composer's singular emotion, none could inform him whither the unbidden guest had gone. Beethoven remained abstracted during the rest of the evening.

{785}

The opera of _Leonore_ was represented at Prague; it met with but indifferent success. At Vienna, however, it commanded unbounded applause. Several alterations had been made in it; the composer had written a new overture, and the _finale_ of the first act; he had suppressed a duo and trio of some importance, and made other improvements and retrenchments. Not small was his triumph at the favorable decision of the Viennese public. A new turn seemed to be given to his mind; he revolved thoughts of future conquests over the same portion of the realm of art; he no longer questioned his own spirit. It was a crisis in the artist's life, and might have resulted in his choice of a different career from that in which he has won undying fame.

Beethoven sat alone in his study; there was a light knock at the door. He replied with a careless "come in," without looking up from his work. He was engaged in revising the last scenes of his opera.

The visitor walked to the table and stood there a few minutes unobserved. Probably the artist mistook him for one of his brothers; but, on looking up, he started with indescribable surprise. The unknown friend of his youth stood beside him.

"So you have kept your word," said the composer, when he had recovered from his first astonishment; "and now, I pray you, sit down, and tell me with whom I have the honor of having formed acquaintance in so remarkable a manner."

"My name is of no importance, as it may or may not prove known to you," replied the stranger. "I am your good genius, if my counsel does you good; if not, I would prefer to take an obscure place among your disappointed friends."

There was a tone of grave rebuke in what his visitor said that perplexed and annoyed the artist. It struck him that there was affectation in this assumption of mystery, and he observed coldly,

"I shall not attempt, of course, to deprive you of your _incognito_; but if you assume it for the sake of effect, I would merely give you to understand that I am not prone to listen to anonymous advice."

"Oh! that you would listen," said the stranger, sorrowfully shaking his head, "to the pleadings of your better nature!"

"What do you mean?" demanded Beethoven, starting up.

"Ask your own heart. If that acquit you, I have nothing to say. I leave you, then, to the glories of your new career; to the popular applause--to your triumphs--to your remorse."

The composer was silent a few moments, and appeared agitated. At last he said, "I know not your reasons for this mystery; but whatever they may be, I will honor them. I entreat you to speak frankly. You do not approve my present undertaking?"

"Frankly, I do not. Your genius lies not this way," and he raised some of the leaves of the opera music.

"How know you that?" asked the artist, a little mortified. "You, perhaps, despise the opera?"

"I do not. I love it; I honor it; I honor the noble creations of those great masters who have excelled in it. But you, my friend, are beckoned to a higher and holier path."

"How know you that?" repeated Beethoven, and this time his voice faltered.

"Because I know you; because I know the aspirations of your genius; because I know the misgivings that pursue you in the midst of success; the self-reproach that you suffer to be stifled in the clamor of popular praise. Even now, in the midst of your triumph, you are haunted by the consciousness that you are not fulfilling the true mission of the artist."

His piercing words were winged with truth itself. Beethoven buried his face in his hands.

{786}

"Woe to you," cried the unknown, "if you suppress, till they are wholly dead, your once earnest longings after the pure and the good! Woe to you, if, charmed by the syren song of vanity, you close your ears against the cry of a despairing world! Woe to you, if you resign unfulfilled the trust God committed to your hands, to sustain the weak and faltering soul, to give it strength to bear the ills of life, strength to battle against evil, to face the last enemy!"

"You are right--you are right!" exclaimed Beethoven, clasping his hands.

"I once predicted your elevation, your world-wide fame," continued the stranger; "for I saw you sunk in despondency, and knew that your spirit must be aroused to bear up against trial. You now stand on the verge of a more dreadful abyss. You are in danger of making the gratification of your own pride, instead of the fulfilment of Heaven's will, the aim--the goal of your life's efforts."

"Oh! never," cried the artist, with you to guide me."

"We shall meet no more. I watched over you in boyhood; I have now come forth from retirement to give you my last warning; henceforth I shall observe your course in silence. And I shall not go unrewarded. I know too well the noble spirit that burns in your breast. You will--yes, you will fulfil your mission; your glory from this time shall rest on a basis of immortality. You shall be hailed the benefactor of humanity; and the spiritual joy you prepare for others shall return to you in full measure, pressed down and running over!"

The artist's kindling features showed that he responded to the enthusiasm of his visitor; but he answered not.

"And now, farewell. But remember, before you can accomplish this lofty mission, you must be baptized with a baptism of fire. The tones that are to agitate and stir up to revolution the powers of the human soul come not forth from an unruffled breast, but from the depths of a sorely wrung and tried spirit. You must steal the triple flame from heaven, and it will first consume the peace of your own being. Remember this--and droop not when the hour of trial comes! Farewell!"

The stranger crossed his hands over Beethoven's head, as if mentally invoking a blessing--folded him in his embrace, and departed. The artist made no effort to follow him. Deep and bitter were the thoughts that moved within him; and he remained leaning his head on the table, in silent revery, or walking the room with rapid and irregular steps, for many hours. At length the struggle was over; pale but composed, he took up the sheets of his opera and threw them carelessly into his desk. His next work, _Christ in the Mount of Olives_, attested the high and firm resolve of his mind, sustained by its self-reliance, and independent of popular applause or disapprobation. His great symphonies, which carried the fame of the composer to its highest point, displayed the same triumph of religious principle.

The Last Hours Of Beethoven.

Once more we find Beethoven, in the extreme decline of life. In one of the most obscure and narrow streets of Vienna, on the third floor of a gloomy-looking house, was now the abode of the gifted artist. For many weary and wasting years he had been the prey of a cruel malady, that defied the power of medicine for its cure, and had reduced him to a state of utter helplessness. {787} His ears had long been closed to the music that owed its birth to his genius; it was long since he had heard the sound of a human voice. In the melancholy solitude to which he now condemned himself, he received visits from but few of his friends, and those at rare intervals. Society seemed a burden to him. Yet he persisted in his labors, and continued to compose, notwithstanding his deafness, those undying works which commanded for him the homage of Europe.

Proofs of this feeling, and of the unforgotten affection of those who knew his worth, reached him in his retreat from time to time. Now it was a medal struck at Paris, and bearing his features; now it was a new piano, the gift of some amateurs in London; at another time, some honorary title decreed him by the authorities of Vienna, or a diploma of membership of some distinguished musical society. All these moved him not, for he had quite outlived his taste for the honors of man's bestowing. What could they--what could even the certainty that he had now immortal fame--do to soften the anguish of his malady, from which he looked alone to death as a relief?

"They wrong me who call me stern or misanthropic," said he to his brother, who came in March, 1827, to pay him a visit. "God knoweth how I love my fellow-men! Has not my life been theirs? Have I not struggled with temptation, trial, and suffering from my boyhood till now, for their sakes? And now if I no longer mingle among them, is it not because my cruel infirmity unfits me for their companionship? When my fearful doom of separation from the rest of the human race is forced on my heart, do I not writhe with terrible agony, and wish that my end were come? And why, brother, have I lived, to drag out so wretched an existence? Why have I not succumbed ere now?