Before the Revolution the house was noted for its hospitality and gayety in the Colonial society of the day. The owner entertained lavishly and at the time of the war he received there Generals Howe, Clinton, Knyphausen, Cleveland, Cornwallis, Burgoyne, and many others. The interior of the house is extremely plain. Presumably in the year 1668 the house decorator had not made his appearance. The walls are three feet thick and the woodwork as sound as on the day it was built. There is of course a ghost room, with “that spot on the floor that cannot be washed out” where murder is said to have been done. Below there is a dungeon with massive iron gate, and the marks are still visible where prisoners, American and then British, tried to cut their way out through the three-foot wall and arched ceiling.[65] It is said there was an underground passage leading to the river. In the basement Fenimore Cooper laid one of the scenes in his novel of the “Water Witch.” The grounds, once laid out with parklike lawns and flower beds, are now in the last stages of dilapidation. FOOTNOTES [1] Built some years before the Revolution by Captain Archibald Kennedy, R.N. (later Earl of Casillis), who married Miss Watts. It was the headquarters respectively of Generals Howe, Cornwallis, and Carleton. [2] The property of William Walton, brother of Admiral Walton, built in 1752. It was one of the best, if not the best house in town. The gardens extended to the river. This house was mentioned in the debates in Parliament to indicate the ability of the colonists to pay more taxes. What might in some respects be called the mate to this house, the Walter Franklin house, occupied by Washington during his Presidency, stood at the north end of the square. It was taken down in 1856, “and the only bit of it known to exist is the President’s chair of the N. Y. Historical Society, which is made of wood taken from the old house” (“Historic New York,” p. 298). [3] Depau Row was an attempt to introduce the Parisian dwelling or hotel. The houses were entered by driveways, running through them to large interior courtyards. They were taken down to make way for the Mills Hotel for men. [4] It is a little remarkable that none of our multimillionaires have added this feature to their new houses uptown. [5] It seems rather strange that some architect has not taken this façade or some portion of it (as, e. g., the east or west end) as a design for the front of one of the palaces that are now springing up throughout the land. [6] “Old Merchants of New York City,” vol. II, p. 318. [7] Before and after the Revolution, the Hall of Records lately removed was used as the debtors’ prison. There were usually about one hundred and fifty prisoners. It is said that they were allowed only bread and water by the State and depended largely on the kindness of benevolent people to relieve their wants. [8] “Lamb’s History of the City of New York,” II, p. 735.