“Attempts were made to enforce the collection of these rents.  The tenants resisted.  They established armed patrols, and, by the adoption of various disguises, were enabled successfully to defy the civil authorities.  Eventually it became necessary to call out the military, but the result was only partially satisfactory.  These demonstrations of authority provoked the formation of ‘anti-rent clubs’ throughout the manorial district, with a view of acquiring a controlling influence in the legislature.  Small bands, armed and disguised as Indians, were also formed to hold themselves in readiness at all times to resist the officers of the law whenever and wherever they attempted to serve legal process upon the tenants.  The principal roads throughout the infected district were guarded by the bands so carefully, and the animosity between the tenants and the civil authorities was so intense, that at last it became dangerous for any one not an anti-renter to be found in these neighbourhoods.  It was equally dangerous for the landlords to make any appeal to the law or for the collection of rents or for protection of their persons.  When Governor Wright entered upon his duties in Albany in 1845, he found that the anti-rent party had a formidable representation in the legislature, and that the questions involved were assuming an almost national importance.”

The sheriff made gallant attempts to enforce the law, but his deputies were killed, and a legal investigation in which two hundred persons were examined, failed to reveal the perpetrators of the crime.  The militia were called out, but they were no more successful than the sheriff.  In the case of one murder committed in Delaware County in 1845, however, two persons were convicted, but their sentence was commuted to imprisonment for life.  Various others concerned in the disturbances were convicted of minor offences, but when Governor Young succeeded Governor Seward after an election in which the anti-renters showed considerable voting strength, he pardoned them all on the ground that their crimes were political.  The dispute was finally settled by a compromise—­that is, the Van Rensselaers and the Livingstons both sold their estates, giving quit-claim deeds to the tenants for what they chose to pay, and the granting of agricultural leases for a longer term than twelve years was forbidden by the State Constitution of 1846.

This anti-rent agitation is described by Professor Johnston of Princeton, in the Cyclopaedia of Political Science, as “a reign of terror which for ten years practically suspended the operations of law and the payment of rent throughout the district.”  Suppose all the land of the State had been held under similar tenures; that the controversy had lasted one hundred years; that the rents had been high; and that the Van Rensselaers and the Livingstons had had the aid of the Federal army in enforcing distraints and evictions, and in enabling them to set local opinion at defiance, what do you suppose the state of morals and manners would have been in New York by this time?  What would have been the feelings of the people towards the Federal authority had the matter been finally adjusted with the strong hand, in accordance, not with the views of the people of the State, but of the landholders of South Carolina or of the district of Columbia?  I am afraid they would have been terribly Irish.