But these are two of the few oases in the dreary desert of early American drunkenness. Most prominent men of the time drank to excess. The early colonial grandees furnish a number of quaint pictures. Governor William Cosby, of New York, was admitted to the Humdrum Club on January 24, 1733, over many bowls of punch made from peculiar and valuable receipts, known only to the members of the club, which was potent in its effects even over a well seasoned veteran like the late Governor of Minorca. Sir Danvers Osborne, another governor, committed suicide. The colony of New York had been treated to a variety of rulers since the English had taken possession of the Dutch colony. They were endowed with every vice known. They were fortunately spared the dominion of a madman who succeeded a dipsomaniac in the chief office of the province. Governor Clinton immured himself in the fort and spent his time with his bottle and a little trifling circle who lived on his bounty. Governor Hunter was a man of violent passion. After he had had one of his fits an Indian said to an officer, "The governor is drunk." "No," said the officer, "he never drinks any strong liquor." The brave replied, "I do not mean he is drunk with rum, he was born drunk." In 1688, in the midst of the rejoicings, the news came that the Queen, the second wife of James, had been blessed with a son, who became heir to the throne. The event was celebrated the same evening by bonfires in the streets and a feast at the city hall. At the latter, Mayor Van Courtlandt became so hilarious, that he made a burnt sacrifice to his loyalty of his hat and periwig, waving the burning victims over the banquet table on the point of his straight sword. And when, in March, 1691, Governor Sloughter arrived, and Leisler sent him a letter loyally tendering to him the fort and province, that functionary, under the influence of the aristocratic leaders, answered it by sending an officer to arrest the "usurper" and Milborne and six of the "inferior insurgents" on a charge of high treason. They were taken to prison, and when they were arraigned, the two principal offenders, denying the authority of the court, refused to plead, and appealed to the King. They were condemned and sentenced to death, but Sloughter, who in his sober moments was just and honest, refused to sign the death warrant until he should hear from the King. The implacable enemies of the "usurper," determined on causing his destruction, invited the governor to a dinner party on Staten Island on a bright day in May. One of them carried to the banquet a legally drawn death warrant, and when the governor had been made stupid with liquor, he was induced to sign the fatal paper. It was sent to the city that evening, and on the following morning Leisler and Milborne were summoned to prepare for execution. Leisler sent for his wife, Alice, and their older children, and after a sorrowful parting with them, he and his son-in-law were led to the