tion of a man who had distinguished himself by his zeal in the cause of king William and the Protestant succession; but they who were bent upon Leisler's death, sought and obtained the signature of the fatal warrant when Sloughter was in his cups after dinner. Leisler's enemies plied the licentious and needy Sloughter with wine. "The carouse went on; a cold storm of sleet and rain, such as often makes a May day miserable in our climate, raged without. But, though those charged with the fatal missive had slipped away from the revel, and conveyed it, as quietly as possible to the sheriff, yet the soldiers of Ingoldsby, who were drawn up to overawe the populace, gave note to them of the dreadful act that was about to be consummated. They thronged around the place of execution, which, I may mention—for the benefit of New Yorkers—was at the lower end of what has been since called the Park, where the spray of the Fountain has succeeded the blood-stain of the martyr. Leisler and Milbourne stood there upon the scaffold together; and there too, within hearing of their voices, stood more than one of those who had brought them to this pass. The high spirit of Milbourne could hardly brook the insulting presence of men to whom he owed this fate of ignominy; and, turning to one gentleman, whom he deemed personally most hostile to himself; he exclaimed, 'Robert Livingston, I will implead thee at the bar of heaven for this deed!'"[1] Leisler, deeply affected by the untimely fate of his son-in-law, died protesting his loyalty and integrity. Some years later, the bill of attainder was reversed and the estates restored to the rightful heirs; and it is now generally conceded, that whatever of error, haste, or ignorance Leisler displayed, he himself was judicially murdered.
The king of England presuming that the northern colonies were more than a match for their French neighbors, rejected at once a proposition on the part of Louis XIV. for a neutrality between their respective colonies. There was no alternative consequently, and the war broke out with fury on both sides.
Immediately upon the declaration of war between England and France becoming known in America, the Baron Castin found it an easy task to urge the eastern Indians to hostilities. At the close of the war with Philip of Pokanoket some thirteen years before, a body of three hundred Indians had been treacherously seized and sold into slavery, after they had agreed to peace. This transaction took place at the house of Major Waldron, at Dover, and a deep scheme was now laid by the Indians to avenge it. Suspicions of some sinister proceeding on the part of the Indians had been thrown out to Waldron, which however he only derided, merely telling those who suggested them "to go and plant their pumpkins, for he would tell them when the Indians would break out." On the very eve of the attack, being told with uneasiness that the town was full of them, he replied, "that he knew the
- ↑ See C. F. Hoffman's "Administration of Jacob Leisler," Sparks's American Biography, vol. iii., p. 227.
