CHAPTER XVI.

SECOND DAY.

Appearance of the City.--Assembling of the Mob.--Fight between Rioters

and the Police and Soldiers.--Storming of Houses.--Rioters hurled

from the Roofs.--Soldiers fire on the People.--Awful Death of

Colonel O'Brien.--Fight in Pitt Street.--Deadly Conflict for a Wire

Factory.--Horrible Impaling of a Mart on an Iron Picket.--Mystery

attached to Him.--Second Attack on Mayor Opdyke's House.--Second

Fight for the Wire Factory.--Telegraphic Dispatches.--Citizens

Volunteering.--Raid on the Negroes.--They are hunted to Death.--Savage

Spectacle.--Negroes seek Head-quarters of Police.--Appearance and State

of the City.--Colonel Nugent's House sacked.--Fight with the Mob in

Third Avenue.--Battle at Gibbon's House.--Policeman Shot.--Night

Attack on Brooks and Brothers' Clothing Store.--Value of the Telegraph

System.--Captain Petty.--Seymour's Speech to the Mob.--Cars and Stages

seized.--Barricades.--Other Fights.--Acton and his Labors.

The early July morning broke tranquilly over the great city, and the

rattling of vehicles was heard in some of the streets, where men were

going to their places of business. In a large portion of it everything

wore its usual air of tranquillity, yet a close observer would notice an

uneasiness resting on the countenances of men. Furtive glances were

cast down side streets, and people seemed on the watch, as though in

expectation of something to come, and the very atmosphere appeared laden

with evil omens. Around police head-quarters, and inside the building,

were large bodies of policemen and the U. S. troops under General Brown.

But uptown, in the vicinity of Thirteenth Street and Second and Third

Avenues, crowds of men began early to assemble, though perfectly quiet

in their demeanor, while smaller knots in the adjoining wards could be

seen discussing the events of the day before. In the meantime, exciting

reports came from Harlem and Yorkville--as early as five o'clock, the

following telegram was sent to the Twentieth Precinct: "Notify General

Sandford to go immediately to Eighty-sixth Street and Harlem--mob

burning." Indeed the air was charged with electricity, but the

commissioners now felt ready to meet the storm whenever and wherever

it should burst. A large force of special policemen had been sworn in,

while General Brown had over seven hundred troops, ready to co-operate

with the police. The public buildings were all well guarded--Sandford

had a strong force in the arsenal, and the military and civil

authorities stood waiting the next movement of the mob. Telegrams

arriving, showed that the northern part of the city was alive with

gathering crowds, while from Sixth Avenue on the west nearly to Second

Avenue in the east, and down almost to Broome Street, the streets were

black with excited men. Stores were closed, factories emptied of their

hands, who voluntarily joined the rioters, or were forced into their

ranks, and there was evidently a gathering of the elements in those

directions for a fearful storm. Soon immense crowds began to patrol the

streets in different wards, showing that simultaneous action would be

required at various points. The troops were called out and marshalled in

Mulberry Street, and those companies selected for immediate action drawn

up in line. Colonel Frothingham, after an earnest conversation with the

officers, addressed the soldiers. He told them that the fate of the

city was in their hands, and everything depended on their good conduct.

Knowing the temptations to disorderly conduct in the midst of the great

city, he urged on them especially to obey implicitly their officers

under all circumstances. His manner and words were earnest, and listened

to with profound attention. Soon a company headed by Sergeant Carpenter,

with a police force two hundred and fifty strong, started for Second and

Third Avenues, where the greatest gatherings were reported to be.

At this time the rioters seemed hesitating about their course of action.

There was apparently no recognized leader, no common understanding and

purpose, though all were engaged in animated discussions of some topic.

Dirty, ferocious-looking women were scattered through the crowd; some of

the men were armed, while all looked defiant and determined.

There were doubtless many who had come from mere curiosity, and a few

attempted to allay the excitement, among them a Catholic priest, who

harangued them, urging them to maintain peace. His address seemed to

have considerable influence on those immediately around him; but as soon

as he left, his words were forgotten, and the mighty throng, estimated

by some at ten thousand, began to be agitated by passion. What would

have been the first act of violence, it is impossible to say, had they

been left undisturbed. But at the cry of "the police and soldiers are

coming," everything else was forgotten.

Inspector Carpenter, coming down Twenty-first Street, struck Second

Avenue, and wheeling, moved in solid column through the crowd up to

Thirty-second Street. The force was assailed with hoots and yells, and

all kinds of opprobrious epithets, but no violence was shown, until it

had crossed Thirty-second Street. The mob not only filled the street,

but numbers, with piles of stones and brick-bats, had climbed to the

roofs of the houses. These deeming themselves secure, suddenly, with one

accord, rained their missiles on the rear of the column.

The men fell rapidly, and two were dangerously hurt. Carpenter

immediately halted his command, and ordered fifty men to enter the

houses, and mounting to the roof, clear them of the assailants.

Barricaded doors were at once broken in, and every one that opposed

their progress clubbed without mercy, as they made their way to the

upper floors. Captain Mount of the Eleventh Precinct, led this storming

party. Officers Watson and Cole distinguished themselves by being the

first on the roof, fighting their way through a narrow scuttle. As

the police, one by one, stepped on to the roof, they rushed on the

desperadoes with their clubs, and felled them rapidly. Those who

attempted to escape through the scuttles were met by the police in the

rooms below; or if one chanced to reach the street, he was knocked down

by those keeping guard there. Some dropped from second and third story

windows, and met with a worse fate than those who staid behind. One huge

fellow received such a tremendous blow, that he was knocked off his feet

and over the edge of the roof, and fell headlong down a height of four

stories to the pavement beneath. Crushed to death by the force of the

fall, he lay a mangled heap at the feet of his companions.

The fight was sharp and fierce, and kept up for nearly an hour, and

bodies scattered around showed with what deadly force the club had been

wielded. But with the clearing of the houses there came a lull in the

conflict, and the immense crowd looked on in sullen silence, as the

police reformed in the street, and recommenced their march. The military

force that had accompanied the police, had formed on the avenue, about

a block and a half above where the latter were stationed, while the

detachment was clearing the houses. Two howitzers were placed in

position commanding the avenue. Colonel O'Brien, of the Eleventh New

York Volunteers, who was raising a regiment for the war, had gathered

together, apparently on his own responsibility, about fifty men, and

appearing on the field, from his superior rank, assumed command. For a

short time the rioters remained quiet, but as the police marched away,

they suddenly awoke out of their apparent indifference. Maddened at the

sight of the mangled bodies of their friends stretched on the pavement,

and enraged at their defeat by the police, they now turned on the

soldiers, and began to pelt them with stones and brick-bats. O'Brien

rode up and down the centre of the street a few times, evidently

thinking his fearless bearing would awe the mob. But they only jeered

him, and finding the attack growing hotter and more determined, he

finally gave the order to fire. The howitzers belched forth on the

crowd, the soldiers levelled their pieces, and the whistling of

minie-balls was heard on every side. Men and women, reeled and fell on

the sidewalk and in the street. One woman, with her child in her arms,

fell, pierced with a bullet. The utmost consternation followed. The

crowd knew from sad experience that the police would use their clubs,

but they seemed to think it hardly possible that the troops would

fire point-blank into their midst. But the deadly effect of the fire

convinced them of their error, and they began to jostle and crowd each

other in the effort to get out of its range. In a few minutes the avenue

was cleared of the living, when the wounded and dead were cared for by

their friends. Order had been restored, and O'Brien, with some twenty

or thirty men, marched down to police head-quarters, and offered his

services to Genera Brown. Colonel Frothingham thanked him, but soon saw

that the Colonel was not in a fit state to have command of troops, and

so reported to General Brown. O'Brien appeared to comprehend the state

of things, and asked to be excused on the plea of sickness. He was

excused, and rode away. Whether he disbanded his handful of men, or they

disbanded themselves, was not stated, but _he_ was soon back again at

the scene of the riot. His residence was close by, but had been deserted

that morning by the family, which had fled in alarm to Brooklyn.

Scowling visages lowered on the colonel, as he rode slowly back among

the crowd, and low muttered threats were heard. Although an Irishman,

and well-known in that neighborhood, his sympathy with the Government

had awakened more or less hostile feeling against him, which his conduct

to-day kindled into deadly hate. Apparently unconscious or reckless of

this, he dismounted, and entered a neighboring drug-store or saloon.

After remaining a few moments he came out, and paused as he beheld the

crowd that had assembled around the door. There was little said, but

dark and angry countenances were bent on him from every side, and he saw

that mischief was intended. Drawing his sword, and taking a revolver in

the other hand, he deliberately walked out into the street. He had taken

but a few steps, when a powerful blow on the back of his head made him

stagger forward. In an instant a rush was made for him, and blows

were rained so fast and fierce upon him, that he was unable to defend

himself. Knocked down and terribly mangled, he was dragged with savage

brutality over the rough pavement, and swung from side to side like a

billet of wood, till the large, powerful body was a mass of gore, and

the face beaten to a pumice. The helpless but still animate form would

then be left awhile in the street, while the crowd, as it swayed to and

fro, gazed on it with cool indifference or curses. At length a Catholic

priest, who had either been sent for, or came along to offer his

services wherever they might be needed, approached the dying man and

read the service of the Catholic Church over him, the crowd in the

meantime remaining silent. After he had finished, he told them to

leave the poor man alone, as he was fast sinking. But as soon as he had

disappeared, determined to make sure work with their victim, they again

began to pound and trample on the body. In the intervals of the attack,

the still living man would feebly lift his head, or roll it from side to

side on the stones, or heave a faint groan.

The whole afternoon was spent in this fiendish work, and no attempt was

made to rescue him. Towards sundown the body was dragged into his own

back-yard, his regimentals all torn from him, except his pantaloons,

leaving the naked body, from the waist up, a mass of mangled flesh

clotted with blood.

But the dying man could not be left alone in his own yard. A crowd

followed him thither, among which were women, who committed the most

atrocious violence on the body, until at last, with one convulsive

movement of the head, and a deep groan, the strong man yielded up his

life.

While this tragedy was being enacted here, similar scenes were occurring

all over the city. Mobs were everywhere, the spirit of pandemonium was

abroad, and havoc and revenge let loose.

Lieutenant Wood, whom General Brown had sent off, with a company of

regulars, came in conflict with a mob, two thousand strong, in Pitt and

Delancey Streets. Marching along Houston to the Bowery, he turned down

the latter, and kept on to Grand. On reaching Pitt Street, he beheld

the hooting, yelling crowd coming straight towards him. He immediately

formed his little force of one hundred and fifty men in line across

the street, and brought them to "shoulder arms." One of the ringleaders

stepped forward to speak to him, when Lieutenant Wood waved him off.

This was the signal for the attack, and immediately a shower of stones

fell among the soldiers. The officer ordered the men to fire--it was

said over the heads of the rioters--in order to disperse them. The

result was scattering shots in return from the latter. Wood then ordered

a point-blank volley, when men tumbled over right and left. The crowd

did not wait for a second, but fled in every direction. Wood then

marched back to headquarters, but on the way slipped and sprained his

ankle, which caused a report that he had been wounded.

A bloody conflict also took place between the police and mob in the same

avenue where Colonel O'Brien fell, below Thirtieth Street. There was a

wire factory here, in which several thousand carbines were stored.

Of this, some of the rioters were aware, and communicated the fact to

others, and a plan was formed to capture them. Having discovered from

the morning's experience that the military had been called in to aid

the police, arms became imperatively necessary, if they hoped to make

a successful resistance. All public depositories of arms they knew were

guarded, but this factory was not, and hence they resolved to capture it

without delay. Swarming around it, they forced the entrance, and began

to throw out the carbines to their friends. The attack, however, had

been telegraphed to head-quarters, and Inspector Dilks was despatched

with two hundred men to save the building, and recover any arms that

might be captured. He marched rapidly up to Twenty-first Street, and

down it to the avenue. Here he came suddenly upon the mob, that blocked

the entire street. As the head of the force appeared, the rioters,

instead of being frightened, greeted it with jeers and curses. It was

two hundred against a thousand; but the inspector did not hesitate a

moment on account of the inequality of numbers, but instantly formed

his men and ordered a charge. The mob, instead of recoiling, closed

desperately on the police, and a fierce hand-to-hand encounter took

place. The clubs, however, mowed a clean swath along the street, and the

compact little force pushed like a wedge into the throng, and cleared a

bloody space for itself. The orders were to recapture all the arms; for

this was of more vital importance than the capture of men. Wherever,

therefore, a musket was seen, a man would dash for it, and, seizing it,

fight his way back into line. On the pavement, the sidewalk, and in the

gutters, men lay bleeding and dying, until at last, the more resolute

having been knocked on the head, the vast crowd, like a herd of buffalo,

broke and tore madly down the street. One of the leaders was a man

of desperate courage, and led on the mob with reckless fury, though

bleeding freely from the terrible punishment he received. As his

comrades turned to flee, leaving him alone, a fearful blow sent him

reeling and staggering towards the sidewalk. As he reached it, he fell

heavily over against the iron railing, and his chin striking one of the

iron pickets, the sharp point entered it and penetrated through to the

roof of his mouth. No one noticed him, or if they did, paid no attention

to him in the headlong flight on the one hand, and swift pursuit on the

other. Thus horridly impaled, his body hanging down along the sidewalk,

the wretched man was left to die. At length Captain Hedden noticed him,

and lifting up the corpse, laid it down on the sidewalk. It was found,

to the surprise of all, to be that of a young man of delicate features

and white, fair skin. "Although dressed as a laborer, in dirty overalls

and filthy shirt, underneath these were fine cassimere pants, handsome,

rich vest, and fine linen shirt." [Footnote: D.M. Barnes.] He was

evidently a man in position far above the rough villains he led on, but

had disguised himself so, as not to be known. He never was known. The

corpse, during the fight that followed, disappeared with the bodies of

many others.

The street being cleared, Dilks turned his attention to the factory,

which was filled with armed rioters, who were determined to defend it

to the last. Detaching a portion of his force, he ordered it to take the

building by storm. Dashing over all obstacles, the men won the stairway

step by step, and entering the main room on the second story, felled a

man at almost every blow. Those who succeeded in escaping down-stairs

were knocked on the head by the force in the street, and soon no rioters

were left but the dead and dying. How many fell in this fight it is

impossible to tell; but one physician alone dressed the wounds of

twenty-one desperately wounded men. Taking what guns they could find and

had captured in the street, the force marched triumphantly back, cheered

on their way by the spectators.

In the meantime, Mayor Opdyke's house in Fifth Avenue had again been

attacked and partially sacked. Captain Maniere, one of the provost

marshals, however, assembled a small force, and drove out the rioters,

who were mostly young men and boys, before the work of destruction was

complete. The news of this attack had been telegraphed to head-quarters

of the police, and Captain Helme, of the Twenty-seventh Precinct,

despatched to its defence. At his approach the rioters dispersed.

Soon after, he was ordered with his command over to the Second Avenue,

accompanied by a detachment of troops under Captain Franklin. This was

in the afternoon--the mob had reassembled, and reinforced by those who

had been dispersed at Thirty-fourth Street, where Colonel O'Brien fell,

had overcome the small body of police at the wire factory, and again

taken possession of it. They had found some boxes of guns that had been

overlooked by Dilks, and having armed themselves, determined to hold

it. Even women joined in the defence. As the force approached, it was

greeted with shouts of defiance and missiles of every kind. An immense

crowd was gathered outside, while the windows of the five-story building

were filled with angry, excited faces, and arms wildly gesticulating.

Charging on this dense mass, and clubbing their way to the building, the

police entered it, and streaming up the stairways, cleared it floor by

floor, some being knocked senseless, others leaping from windows, to be

killed by the fall, and others escaping down-stairs, to be met by the

force in the street. A thorough search was now made for arms, and the

building emptied of them. Taking possession of these, the police and

military took up their line of march for head-quarters. They had not

proceeded far, however, before the mob that had scattered in every

direction began to pour back again into the avenue, and close on the

military that were bringing up the rear. Following them with hoots and

yells that were unheeded, they became emboldened, and pressing nearer,

began to hurl stones and bricks, and everything they could lay their

hands on, against the soldiers. The latter bore it for awhile patiently;

but this only made the wretches more fierce and daring. Seeing there

was but one way to end this, Captain Franklin ordered his men to "About

face;" and "ready, aim, fire," fell in quick succession. The yelling,

shouting crowd were in point-blank range, and the volley told with

deadly effect. The street was strewed with dead and dying, while the

living fled down the avenue.

In the meantime, mobs had sprung up in every part of the city; some

larger and some smaller; some after negroes, others firing buildings or

sacking them.

Some idea of the pressure on the Police Commissioners during this

forenoon, and the condition the city was in, may be gathered from the

following despatches, which are only a small portion of those received

and answered in two hours:

10.20. From Thirteenth. Send military here immediately.

10.22. To Seventh. Find military and send them to Thirteenth Street

forthwith.

10.45. From Sixteenth. A mob has just attacked Jones' soap factory;

stores all closed.

10.50. To Twenty-sixth. Tell Inspector Leonard to send one hundred men

here forthwith.

10.55. To Twentieth. From General Brown. Send to arsenal and say a heavy

battle is going on. Captain Wilkins and company of regulars will report

to me here at once.

11.18. From Sixteenth. Mob is coming down to station-house; we have no

men.

11.20. From Eighteenth. The mob is very wild, corner Twenty-second

Street and Second Avenue. They have attacked the Union steam factory.

11.35. To Twenty-sixth. Send another one hundred men here forthwith.

11.35. From Twentieth. Send one hundred men to disperse mob assailing

Mayor Opdyke's house.

11.38. To Twenty-first. Can you send a few men here?

11.40. From Twenty-second. The mob has gone to Mr. Higgins' factory,

foot of Forty-third Street, to burn it.

11.45. From Eighteenth. What shall we do? The mob is about 4,500 strong.

_Answer_. Clear them down, if you can.

11.50. From Eighteenth. We must leave; the mob is here with guns.

11.50. From Twentieth. Mob tearing up track on Eleventh Avenue.

11.58. The mob have just sacked a large gun-store in Grand Street, and

are armed, and are on the way to attack us.

12.10. To Fifteenth. Send your men here forthwith.

12.35. From Twentieth. Send two hundred men forthwith to Thirty-fifth

Street arsenal.

12.36. From Twenty-first. The mob have just broken open a gun-store on

Third Avenue, between Thirty-sixth and Thirty-seventh Streets, and are

arming.

12.40. From Twenty-first. Send help--the crowd is desperate.

And so on.

Between these rapid telegrams asking for help, were others making and

answering inquiries. And so it was kept up from daylight till midnight

for three days in succession. These urgent calls for help coming from

every quarter at the same time, would have thrown into inextricable

confusion a less clear head than Acton's. It was a terrible strain on

him, and had it continued a little longer, would have cost him his life.

In the midst of it all he received anonymous letters, telling him he had

but one more day to live.

But while the police head-quarters were thus crowded with business, and

the commissioners were straining every nerve to meet the frightful state

of things in the city, other means were being taken to add to their

efficiency.

Governor Seymour had reached the city, and after being closeted with

Mayor Opdyke, had issued a proclamation, calling on the rioters to

disperse, and saying that they would be put down at all hazards.

At a meeting of the merchants and bankers in Wall Street, it was

resolved to close up business, and form volunteer companies of a hundred

men each, to serve under the military. General Wetmore was one of the

first to offer his services. The high-spirited citizen, William E.

Dodge, was among the most prominent advocates of the measure, and soon

found himself a captain under orders. The steamboat of the harbor police

was busy in bringing troops and cannon from Riker's and Governor's

Island, and rapidly steaming from point to point on the river, to

prevent destruction around the docks. Around the arsenal cannon were

placed. At the city armory, corner of White and Elm Streets, were a

company of the Eighty-fourth New York Militia, and some of the Zouaves

and other troops. The Sub-treasury and Custom House were defended by the

Tenth National Zouaves and a hundred and fifty armed citizens. In front

of the Government stores in Worth and White streets, the Invalid Corps

and a company of marines patrolled, while howitzers loaded with grape

and canister, stood on the corner of the street. Nearly four hundred

citizens had been sworn in at police head-quarters as special policemen,

and had been furnished with clubs and badges. All this time the fight

was going on in every direction, while the fire-bells continually

ringing increased the terror that every hour became more wide-spread.

Especially was this true of the negro population. From the outset, they

had felt they were to be objects of vengeance, and all day Monday and

to-day those who could leave, fled into the country. They crowded the

ferry-boats in every direction, fleeing for life. But old men and women,

and poor families, were compelled to stay behind, and meet the fury of

the mob, and to-day it became a regular hunt for them. A sight of one in

the streets would call forth a halloo, as when, a fox breaks cover, and

away would dash a half a dozen men in pursuit. Sometimes a whole crowd

streamed after with shouts and curses, that struck deadly terror to the

heart of the fugitive. If overtaken, he was pounded to death at once;

if he escaped into a negro house for safety, it was set on fire, and

the inmates made to share a common fate. Deeds were done and sights

witnessed that one would not have dreamed of, except among savage

tribes.

At one time there lay at the corner of Twenty seventh-Street and Seventh

Avenue the dead body of a negro, stripped nearly naked, and around it

a collection of Irishmen, absolutely dancing or shouting like wild

Indians. Sullivan and Roosevelt Streets are great negro quarters,

and here a negro was afraid to be seen in the street. If in want of

something from a grocery, he would carefully open the door, and look

up and down to see if any one was watching, and then steal cautiously

forth, and hurry home on his errand. Two boarding-houses here were

surrounded by a mob, but the lodgers, seeing the coming storm, fled. The

desperadoes, finding only the owner left behind, wreaked their vengeance

on him, and after beating him unmercifully, broke up the furniture,

and then fired the buildings. A German store near by, because it was

patronized extensively by negroes, shared the same fate, after its

contents had been distributed among themselves. A negro barber's shop

was next attacked, and the torch applied to it. A negro lodging-house in

the same street next received the visit of these furies, and was soon

a mass of ruins. Old men, seventy years of age, and young children, too

young to comprehend what it all meant, were cruelly beaten and killed.

The spirit of hell seemed to have entered the hearts of these men, and

helpless womanhood was no protection against their rage. Sometimes a

stalwart negro would break away from his murderers, and run for his

life. With no place of safety to which he could flee, he would be headed

off in every direction, and forced towards the river. Driven at last to

the end of a pier, he would leap off, preferring to take his chances in

the water rather than among these bloody men. If bruised and beaten in

his desperate struggle for life, he would soon sink exhausted with his

efforts. Sometimes he would strike out for a ship, but more often dive

under the piers, and hold on to a timber for safety, until his yelling

pursuers had disappeared, when he would crawl stealthily out, and with

terrified face peer in every direction to see if they had gone. Two were

thus run off together into the East River. It was a strange spectacle to

see a hundred Irishmen pour along the streets after a poor negro. If

he could reach a police station he felt safe; but, alas! if the force

happened to be away on duty, he could not stay even there. Whenever

the police could strike the track of the mad hunt, they stopped it

summarily, and the pursuers became the pursued, and received the

punishment they had designed for the negro. All this was in the

nineteenth century, and in the metropolis of the freest and most

enlightened nation on earth.

[Image: Hanging and burning a negro in Clarkson Street.]

The hunt for these poor creatures became so fearful, and the utter

impossibility to protect them in their scattered localities so apparent,

that they were received into the police stations. But these soon proved

inadequate, and they were taken to head-quarters and the arsenal, where

they could be protected against the mob. Here the poor creatures were

gathered by hundreds, and slept on the floor, and were regularly fed by

the authorities.

It is impossible to give a detailed account of what transpired in every

part of the city. If there had been a single band of rioters, no matter

how large, a force of military and police, properly armed, could have

been concentrated to have dispersed it. But bodies of men, larger or

smaller, bent on violence and devastation, were everywhere; even out at

Harlem eight buildings were burned, and the lower end of Westchester

was in a state of agitation and alarm. A mob of thousands would be

scattered, only to come together at other points. A body of police and

military plunging through the heaving multitude, acted often only as a

stone flung into the water, making but a momentary vacuum. Or, if they

did not come together again, they swung off only to fall in, and be

absorbed by a crowd collected in another part of the city. The alarm

of Monday had only been partial, but to-day it culminated. Families,

husbands, and sons left their business, and with arms patrolled the

streets. Stores were shut up, stages and cars stopped running, and all

business was suspended.

The blood flowing through the thousand arteries of this great mart

seemed suddenly frozen in its channels, and its mighty pulsations to

stop at the mandate of lawless men. The city held its breath in

dread, but there were firm hearts at police head-quarters. Acton never

flinched, and in General Brown he found a soldier that knew his duty,

and would do it at all hazards. Still, the uprising kept swelling into

vaster proportions, embracing a still larger territory.

Broadway was deserted. A few hacks could be seen, but with very

different occupants than those which they ordinarily contained. The

iron shutters were closed on the Fifth Avenue Hotel, and a stack of arms

stood in the hall-way. Crowds of respectable citizens, not on duty, were

making all haste toward railroad depots and steamboat landings. Every

boat, as it swung from the dock, was loaded to its utmost capacity with

people leaving a city that seemed doomed to destruction; going, many

knew not where, only out of New York. Cars were packed, and long trains

were made up to carry the crowds in haste to get away. But travel on the

Hudson River Road was soon stopped by the mob, that tore up the track to

prevent communication with other parts of the State, and the arrival of

troops.

The Harlem and Third Avenue tracks were also torn up, as the rioters

were determined to isolate the great city, which they had doomed to

destruction. Passing from one object to another, now acting as if from

plan, and now intent only on destruction and plunder, the crowd streamed

from point to point with shouts and yells, that sent terror through the

adjoining streets. Suddenly, some one remembered that they were in the

vicinity of Colonel Nugent's house, in Yorkville, the assistant provost

marshal general, and shouting out the news, a rush was made for it, and

it was sacked from top to bottom.

As the police were gathered together either at the precinct stations or

head-quarters, ordinary patrol duty was out of the question; hence,

many isolated, acts of violence could be committed with impunity. This

freedom from close surveillance, coupled with the contagion of the

lawless spirit which was abroad, made every section of the city where

the lower classes lived more or less restless. It was impossible for the

police to divide itself up so to furnish protection in individual cases,

and yet be in sufficient force to cope with the mobs, that numbered by

thousands. Although the whole city was heaving like a troubled sea, yet

the main gathering this day had been in the upper part and on both

sides of it. The terrific contests we described farther back were in

the Second Avenue, on the east side, but, nearly opposite, in the Sixth

Avenue, crowds had been gathering since early in the forenoon.

For a long time they swayed backward and forward, apparently without

any definite purpose, and moved only by the spirit of disorder that

had taken possession of the city. But about two o'clock, these various

bodies began by mutual attraction to flow together, and soon became

one immense mass, and impelled by some information or other, gathered

threateningly around a large mansion on the corner of Forty-sixth

Street and Fifth Avenue. They had supplied themselves with all sorts of

weapons, revolvers, old muskets, stones, clubs, barrel-staves--in short,

everything that could be found, that might be of service in a fight--and

soon commenced plundering the residence. But their movements had been

telegraphed to head-quarters, and Captain Walling, of the Twentieth

Precinct, was dispatched thither, with a company of regulars under

Captain Putnam, a descendant of "Old Put." The report soon spread

through the crowd, that bayonets could be seen coming up the avenue.

Marching up to Forty-sixth Street, the force turned into it, towards

the Fifth Avenue; and breaking into the charge step, with the order "no

prisoners" ringing in their ears, struck the mob almost in the

centre, cutting it in two, like a mighty cleaver. There was no need of

bayonets--the police, at the head of the military, went right through

it, and scattered the men in every direction. The force then divided

into squads, and each one taking a section of the mob, followed it up

on a swift run, and smote them right and left for several blocks. The

larger portion went down Sixth Avenue, and seeing only a portion of the

police pursuing, turned and showed fight, when the leader received a

bullet in the head and fell. Seeing their leader fall, the mob wheeled

and took to their heels.

Captain Walling in one instance saw a crowd with fire-arms standing in

an alley-way. Just then a fire-engine and company came down the street,

and he with his small force got behind it, and kept concealed until

opposite the unsuspecting crowd, when, with a shout, they dashed on it.

A volley received them,--with answering volley, the police charged into

the narrow opening. The rioters fled into a tenement-house, from which

came yells and screams of terrified women and children. Walling had some

sharpshooters with him, to pick off those beyond the reach of the clubs.

One fellow, armed, was seen astraddle of the ridge pole of a house. The

next moment a sharpshooter covered him, and he tumbled headlong to the

ground. The same afternoon he saw some twenty or thirty men attempting

to stave in a hardware store, evidently after pistols. Walling charged

on them alone, and with one terrible blow, his club sent the leader to

the pavement with his brains oozing out.

Although the draft was almost forgotten by the rioters, in the thirst

for plunder and blood, still men in the streets and some of the papers

talked of its being unconstitutional, and to be contested in the

courts--others that it had been and would be suspended, as though any

disposal of it now could affect the conduct of the rioters. Force was

the only argument they would listen to. The riot had almost ceased to

wear any political aspect since the attack on the _Tribune_ office, the

day before, had been defeated. An occasional shout or the sight of a

negro might now and then remind one of its origin, but devastation and

plunder were the great objects that urged on the excited masses. The

sacking of Opdyke's house was done chiefly by a few youngsters, who were

simply following the example set them the day before; while the burning

of negro buildings, the chasing and killing of negroes, seemed to have

only a remote connection with the draft, and was simply the indulgence

of a hatred they were hitherto afraid to gratify. So the setting fire

to the Weehawken ferry afterwards, could be made to grow out of

politics only so far as a man who kept a liquor saloon there was a known

Republican. This seemed a weak inducement to draw a crowd so far, when

more distinguished victims were all around them. It is more probable

that some personal enemy of parties in the vicinity, finding the mob

ready to follow any cry, led them thither; for one man seemed to be the

leader, who, mounted on a fine cavalry horse, and brandishing a sword,

galloped backwards and forwards through the crowd, giving his orders

like a field officer. Mobs springing up everywhere, and flowing together

often apparently by accident, each pursuing a different object: one

chasing negroes and firing their dwellings; others only sacking; a

house, and others still, wreaking their vengeance on station-houses,

while scores, the moment they got loaded down with plunder, hastened

away to conceal it--all showed that the original cause of the uprising

had been forgotten. A strong uncertainty seemed at times to keep them

swaying backwards and forwards, as though seeking a definite object, or

waiting for an appointed signal to move, and then at some shout would

rush for a building, a negro, or station-house.

The mob was a huge monster--frightful both in proportions and

appearance, yet not knowing where or how to use its strength. The attack

on Mr. Gibbon's house at Twenty-ninth Street and Eighth Avenue, during

this afternoon, was attributed to the fact that he was Mr. Greeley's

cousin, and that the former sometimes slept there--rather a far-fetched

inference, as though a mob would be aware of a fact that probably not a

dozen immediate neighbors knew.

Some one person might have raised a cry of "Greeley's house," which

would have been sufficient to insure its destruction. The police being

notified of this attack, sent a squad of men with a military force to

disperse the mob. Captain Ryer formed his troops in front of the house,

and Sergeant Devoursney did the same with a part of his men, while the

other portion was sent into the building, that was filled with men,

women, and children, loading themselves down with the spoils. The

appearance of the caps and clubs in the rooms created a consternation

that would have been ludicrous, but for the serious work that followed.

No defence was made, except by a few persons singly. One fellow advanced

to the door with a pistol in his hand, and fired, sending a ball through

Officer Hill's thigh. The next instant the latter felled him to the

floor with his club, and before he could even attempt to rise he was

riddled with balls. Some of the women fell on their knees, and shrieked

for mercy; while one strong Irish woman refused to yield her plunder,

and fought like a tigress. She seized an officer by the throat, and

trying to strangle and bite him, would not let go till a blow sobered

her into submission.

Some were loaded with shawls and dresses, and one burly,

ferocious-looking Irishman carried under his arm a huge bundle of select

music. As the police chased the plunderers down-stairs, and out into the

street, in some unaccountable way the troops got so confused that they

fired a volley that swept the police as well as the rioters. Officer

Dipple was so severely wounded that he died the following Sunday, while

Officers Hodson and Robinson both received flesh wounds.

In the upper part of the city, few buildings, except those too near

police and army head-quarters, or too well defended, offered much spoil

except private houses, and these had been the chief objects of attack.

But Brooks and Brothers' clothing store in Catharine Street, situated in

a part of the city thickly populated with the very class mobs are made

of, became toward evening an object of great attraction to groups of

hard-looking men and women. As night settled down, the heavens being

overcast, it became very dark; for in all the neighboring houses the

lights were extinguished by the inmates, who were terribly alarmed at

the rapidly increasing crowd in the street. To deepen and complete the

gloom the rioters turned off the gas. Officer Bryan, of the Fourth Ward,

telegraphed to head-quarters the threatening appearance of things, and a

force of fifty or sixty men were at once despatched to the spot. In the

mean time Sergeant Finney, with Platt and Kennedy, stood at the entrance

to defend the building till the police could arrive.

For awhile the three determined police officers, standing silent in the

darkness, overawed the leaders. But soon from the crowd arose shouts,

amid which were heard the shrill voices of women, crying, "Break open

the store." This was full of choice goods, and contained clothing enough

to keep the mob supplied for years. As the shouts increased, those

behind began to push forward those in front, till the vast multitude

swung heavily towards the three police officers. Seeing this movement,

the latter advanced with their clubs to keep them back. At this, the

shouts and yells redoubled, and the crowd rushed forward, crushing down

the officers by mere weight. They fought gallantly for a few minutes;

but, overborne by numbers, they soon became nearly helpless, and were

terribly beaten and wounded, and with the utmost exertions were barely

able to escape, and make their way back to the station. The mob now had

it all its own way, and rushing against the doors, burst bolts and bars

asunder, and streamed in. But it was dark as midnight inside, and they

could not distinguish one thing from another; not even the passage-ways

to the upper rooms of the building, which was five stories high. They

therefore lighted the gas, and broke out the windows. In a few minutes

the vast edifice was a blaze of light, looking more brilliant from

the midnight blackness that surrounded it. The upturned faces of the

excited, squalid throng below presented a wild and savage spectacle in

the flickering light. Men and women kept pouring in and out, the latter

loaded with booty, making their way home into the adjacent streets,

and the former rushing after their portion of the spoils. Coats and

pantaloons, and clothing of every description, were rapidly borne

away; and it was evident, give them time enough, the crowd would all

disappear, and there would be scarcely enough left to finish the work

of destruction. Thinking only of the rich prize they had gained, they

seemed to forget that retribution was possible, when suddenly the cry

of "Police! police!" sent a thrill of terror through them. Sergeant

Delaney, at the head of his command, marched swiftly down the street,

until close upon the mob, when the order, "Double-quick," was given, and

they burst with a run upon them. For a moment, the solid mass, by

mere weight, bore up against the shock; but the clubs soon made a lane

through it broad as the street. Just then a pistol-shot rung from a

house, almost over their heads. Many of the rioters were armed with

muskets, and the comparatively small police force, seeing that firearms

were to be used, now drew their revolvers, and poured a deadly volley

right into their midst. Several fell at the first discharge; and

immediately terror seized that portion of the multitude nearest the

police, especially the women, and many fell on their knees, crying for

mercy. Others forced their way recklessly over their companions, to get

out of reach. As the police made their way to the front of the store,

they formed line, while Sergeant Matthew, of the First Precinct, with

his men, entered the building. The scene here became more frightful

than the one without. The rioters on the first floor made but little

resistance, and, thinking only of escape, leaped from the windows, and

rushed out of doors like mad creatures. But as they attempted to flee,

those without knocked them over with their clubs. Having cleared this

story, the police mounted to the second, where the rioters, being more

closely penned, showed fight. Pistol-shots rang out, and some of the

police officers had narrow escapes. One powerful bully fought like a

tiger, till two policemen fell upon him with their clubs, and soon left

him stark and stiff. At last they drove the whole crowd into a rear

building, and kept them there till they had time to secure them.

Just as the store was cleared, Sergeant Carpenter, who had been sent as

a reinforcement in case of need, came up with a hundred and fifty men,

and charging on the crowd, sent them flying down the narrow streets.

After quiet had been restored, a military force arrived and took

possession of the building.

Just previous to this, another attempt was made to burn the _Tribune_

building, but was easily repelled. The _Times_ office, near by, warned

by the fate of its neighbor the night before, had established a regular

garrison inside, while it brilliantly illuminated the open space all

around it, in the circle of which the rioters did not care to come.

The invaluable service of the telegraph was tested to-day, not merely in

enabling General Brown and the commissioners to despatch men quickly to

a threatened point, but to keep a force moving from one ward to another,

as messages came in, announcing the incipient gathering in different

districts. Word sent to the station in the neighborhood where they were

acting, would instantly change their route; and knots of men, which if

left alone would soon have swelled into formidable mobs, were broken up,

for they found military and police force marching down on them before

they could form a plan of action. Nor was this all. A force sent to a

certain point, after dispersing the mob, would be directed to make a

tour through the disaffected districts--all the time keeping up its

communication with head-quarters, so that if any serious demonstration

was made in that section of the city, it could be ordered there at once,

thus saving half the time it would take to march from head-quarters.

Thus, for instance, Captain Petty was ordered this morning to

head-quarters from the City Hall, where he had passed the night, and

directed to take two hundred men (including his own precinct force), and

go to the protection of a soap factory in Sixteenth Street, Eighth and

Ninth Avenues. He moved off his command, marching rapidly up Broadway

and down Sixteenth Street. The mob saw it coming two blocks off, and

immediately scattered in every direction, which awakened the supreme

contempt of the captain. He now marched backward and forward, and

through the cross streets, up as far as Nineteenth Street, scattering

every fragment of the mob that attempted to hold together, and finally

returned to head-quarters. This was a long march, but the men had

scarcely rested, when the captain was hurried off to aid in the

protection at the wire factory in Second Avenue. In the fierce fight

that followed, he, with ten men at his back, charged up the broad

stairway, fighting his way step by step to the fifth story. Caught up

here at the top of the building, the rioters were clubbed without mercy.

Some, to escape the terrible punishment, plunged down the hatchway;

others attempted to dash past the men, and escape down the stairs.

At one time eight bodies lay in the door-way, blocking it up. He then

marched back to head-quarters. He had been marching and fighting all

day. Similar exhausting duties were performed by other commands, both

police and military. Inspector Dilks, with his force gathered from

various precincts, passed the entire day in marching and fighting. The

men, weary and hungry, would reach head-quarters or certain points,

hoping to get a little rest and refreshment, when the hurried order

would come to repair to a point a mile off, where the mob was firing

and sacking houses, and off they would start on the double-quick.

Uncomplaining and fearless of danger, and never counting numbers, both

police and soldiers were everywhere all this day, and proved themselves

as reliable, gallant, and noble a set of men as ever formed or acted as

the police force of any city in the world.

In the meantime, Governor Seymour and the Mayor of the city were not

idle. The latter at the City Hall, fearing an attack, asked Acton for

a guard of protection, and fifty men were sent him. Report of the mob

assembled there, reached Governor Seymour, at the St. Nicholas, and he

immediately hastened thither, and addressed the crowd from the steps,

which allayed excitement for the time. This speech was variously

commented upon. Some of the criticisms were frivolous, and revealed the

partisan, rather than the honest man. If the Governor had not previously

issued a proclamation to the whole city, in which he declared without

reservation that the mobs should be put down at all hazards--if this

speech had been his only utterance, then the bitter denunciations

against him would have been deserved. It would have been pusillanimous,

cowardly, and unworthy the Governor of the State. But he spoke in his

official capacity, not only firmly, emphatically, and in no ambiguous

terms, but he had hurried up the military, and used every means in his

power to accumulate and concentrate the forces under his control to put

down the riot. No faint-heartedness or sentimental qualmishness marked

any of his official acts. Prompt, energetic, and determined, he placed

no conditions on his subordinates in the manner of putting down the mob,

and restoring the supremacy of the law. But here in this address he was

speaking to men who, as a body at least, had as yet committed no overt

act; and many doubtless were assembled expecting some public declaration

from the City Hall. He was not addressing the plunderers and rioters

that were firing houses and killing negroes, but a mixed assembly, the

excitement of which he thought best to allay, if possible. Some said he

began his address with "My friends;" others, "Fellow-citizens." Whether

he did one, or the other, or neither, is of no consequence and meant

nothing. To have commenced, "Ye villains and cut-throats, disperse at

once, or I'll mow you down with grape-shot!" might have sounded very

brave, but if that was all he was going to say, he had better kept his

room.

A _proclamation_ like this address would have been infamous. Here

is where the mistake was made in the criticisms heaped upon it. His

official acts were all such as became the Chief Magistrate of New York.

The speech, therefore, must be judged rather by the rules of taste and

propriety, than, by those which apply to him officially. If a man's

official acts are all right, it is unjust to let them go for nothing,

and bring into prominence a short address made without premeditation

in the front of an excited, promiscuous assembly, moved by different

motives. That it was open to criticism in some respects, is true.

It should have been imbued more with the spirit of determination to

maintain order and suppress violence, and less been said of the measures

that had or would be taken to test the constitutionality of the draft,

and of his purpose, if it were decided in the courts to be wrong,

to oppose it. Such talk had better be deferred till after order

is restored. When men begin to burn and plunder dwellings, attack

station-houses, hang negroes, and shoot down policemen, it is too late

to attempt to restore peace by talking about the constitutionality of

laws. The upholding of laws about the constitutionality of which there

is no doubt, is the only thing deserving of consideration. The Common

Council of the city exhibited in this respect a most pusillanimous

spirit, by offering resolutions to have the constitutionality of the law

tested, when, the entire constitution and laws of the State were being

subverted! Unquestionably, some charity should be extended to men who

are pleading for those whose votes elevated them to office. Brutuses

are rare nowadays; and politicians do not like to shoot down their own

voters--they would much rather make more voters out of men no more fit

to exercise the right of suffrage than horses and mules.

Governed by a similar spirit, Archbishop Hughes, although he had yielded

to the pressure made on him and issued an address to the Irish, calling

on them to abstain from violence, yet accompanied it with a letter to

Horace Grreeley, directly calculated to awaken or intensify, rather than

allay their passions. He more than intimated that they had been

abused and oppressed, and thought it high time the war was ended.

The proclamation was short, but the letter was a long one, full of a

vindictive spirit, and showing unmistakably with whom his sympathies

were.

Towards evening a mob assembled over in Ninth Avenue, and went to work

with some system and forethought. Instead of wandering round, firing and

plundering as the whim seized them, they began to throw up barricades,

behind which they could rally when the military and police came to

attack them. Indeed, the same thing had been done on the east side of

the city; while railroads had been torn up, and stages stopped, to

keep them from carrying policemen, rapidly from one quarter to another.

During the day, Colonel Frothingham had stood in Third Avenue, and

stopped and emptied every car as it approached, and filled it with

soldiers, to be carried to the upper part of the city. Acton, too, had

sent round to collect all the stages still running in Broadway and the

Bowery, and in a short time they came rumbling into Mulberry Street,

forming a long line in front of head-quarters. A telegram from Second

Avenue demanded immediate help, and the police were bundled into them

and hurried off. One driver refused to stir, saying, roughly, he was

not hired to carry policemen. Acton had no time to argue the case, and

quickly turning to a policeman, he said: "Put that man in cell Number

92." In a twinkling he was jerked from his seat and hurried away.

Turning to another policeman, he said: "Mount that box and drive." The

next moment the stage, with a long string of others, loaded inside and

out with the bluecoats, was whirling through the streets. He had done

the same with the Sixth Avenue cars. The son-in-law of George Law

remonstrated, saying that it would provoke the mob to tear down the

railroad buildings. There was no time to stand on ceremony; the cars

were seized, and the company, to save their property, paid a large sum

to the ringleaders of the rioters. In fact, a great many factories and

buildings were bought off in the same way; so that the leaders drove

quite a thriving business.

But, as before remarked, the commencement of barricades to obstruct the

movements of the police and military, after the Parisian fashion, was

a serious thing, and must be nipped in the bud; and Captain Walling, of

the Twentieth Precinct, who had been busy in this part of the city

all the afternoon in dispersing the mob, sent to head-quarters for a

military force to help remove them. He also sent to General Sandford,

at the arsenal, for a company of soldiers, which was promised, but never

sent. At six o'clock a force of regulars arrived from General Brown, and

repaired to the Precinct station-house. Captain Slott, of the Twentieth

Precinct, took command of the police force detailed to cooperate with

the troops, but delayed action till the arrival of the company promised

from the arsenal. Meanwhile, the rioters kept strengthening the

barricades between Thirty-seventh and Forty-third Streets, in Eighth

Avenue, by lashing carts, wagons, and telegraph poles together with wire

stripped from the latter. The cross streets were also barricaded. Time

passed on, and yet the bayonets of he expected reinforcement from the

arsenal did not appear. The two commanding officers now began to grow

anxious; it would not do to defer the attack till after dark, for such

work as was before them required daylight. At length, as the sun stooped

to the western horizon, it was resolved to wait no longer, and the order

to move forward was given. As they approached the first barricade, by

Thirty-seventh Street, a volley as poured into them from behind it,

followed by stones and brick-bats.

The police now fell back to the left, and the regulars advancing,

returned the fire. The rioters, however, stood their ground, and for a

time nothing was heard but the rapid roll of musketry. But the steady,

well-directed fire of the troops, at length began to tell on the mob,

and they at last broke, and fled to the next barricade. The police then

advanced, and tore down the barricade, when the whole force moved on to

the next. Here the fight was renewed, but the close and rapid volley of

the troops soon scattered the wretches, when this also was removed. They

kept on in this way, till the last barricade was abandoned, when the

uncovered crowd broke and fled in wild disorder. The soldiers pressed

after, breaking up into squads, and chasing and firing into the

disjointed fragments as they drifted down the various streets.

There was more or less disturbance in this section, however, till

midnight. At nine o'clock, an attack was made on a gun and hardware

store, in Thirty-seventh Street, between Eighth and Ninth Avenues, but

Sergeant Petty was sent thither with a small force, and scattered them

at the first charge. At midnight, an attempt was made to destroy the

colored church in Thirtieth Street, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues;

but before the rioters had accomplished their work, Captain Walling,

with his entire force and the regulars, came up, and though met with a

volley, fell on them in such a headlong charge, that they scattered down

the street.

All this time the arsenal presented the appearance of a regular camp;

videttes were kept out, sentries established, howitzers commanded the

streets, and everything wore the look of a besieged fortress.

Sandford, whom Wool wished to take command of all the troops, evidently

thought that he had as much as he could do to hold that building,

without doing anything to quell the riot in the city.

One of the first companies that came up from the forts the day before,

and hence belonged to General Brown's force, got, no one could hardly

tell how, into the arsenal, and were there cooped up as useless as

though in garrison--for if seven hundred men with cannon sweeping every

approach could not hold it, seven thousand could not. General Brown and

Acton needed this company badly, but how to get it was the question.

Governor Seymour held no direct communication with the Police

Commissioners; for they were not on friendly terms, as they were holding

their places in defiance of him, he having removed them some time

before. Mr. Hawley, the chief clerk, who knew the Governor personally,

acted, therefore, as the channel of communication between them. He now

went to him, and asked him how things were at the arsenal. He replied,

he did not know--no report had been sent him. Hawley then asked him to

send an officer and ascertain, and get back the company belonging to

General Brown's command. He replied he had no one to send. Hawley then

offered to go himself, if he would give an order to this company of

United States troops to report at once to General Brown at police

head-quarters. He did so, and Hawley, reaching the arsenal in safety,

gave the order to the adjutant-general, before calling on Sandford, so

as to be sure it was obeyed.

On the northern limits of the city, serious disturbances had occurred

during the day, especially in Yorkville, to which Acton was compelled to

send a strong force. The mob also attempted to burn Harlem bridge, but

the heavy rain of the night before had made it so wet that it would not

ignite. Down town, likewise, mobs had assembled before the Western

Hotel and other places, but were dispersed before they had inflicted any

damage. Almost the last act in the evening was an attack on the house of

Mr. Sinclair, one of the owners of the _Tribune_.

But rioters must eat and sleep like other people, and though knots of

them could be seen in various parts of the city, the main portion seemed

to have retired soon after midnight.

In the police head-quarters, men were lying around on the floor in the

warm July night, snatching, as best they could, a little repose. General

Brown and staff, in their chairs or stretched on a settee, nodded in

this lull of the storm, though ready at a moment's notice to do their

duty. But there was no rest for Acton. He had not closed his eyes for

nearly forty hours, and he was not to close them for more than forty to

come.

With his nerves strung to their utmost tension, and resolved to put down

that mob though the streets ran blood, he gave his whole soul to the

work before him. He infused his determined, fearless spirit into every

one who approached him. Anonymous letters, telling him he had not

another day to live, he flung aside with a scornful smile, to attend to

the telegraph dispatches from the different precincts.

Troops and men were stationed at various points, and gunboats were

patrolling the rivers, and he must be on the alert every moment. The

fate of a great city lay on his heart, and he could not sleep.

[Illustration: THE DEAD SERGEANT IN 22d STREET]

The Great Riots of New York, 1712 to 1873 · 第 16 / 21 章