CLOSING SCENES.
Tranquil Morning.--Proclamation of the Mayor.--Mob cowed.--Plunderers
afraid of Detection.--Dirty Cellars crowded with rich Apparel,
Furniture, and Works of Art.--Archbishop Hughes' Address.--Useless
Efforts.--Acton's Forty-eight Hours without Sleep over.--Change in
Military Commanders in the City.--General Brown relinquishes his
Command.--True Words.--Noble Character and Behavior of the Troops and
Police.--General Brown's invaluable Services.
This week of horrors--a week unparalleled in the history of New
York--was drawing to a close. It had been one of terror and dismay to
the inhabitants, who thought only of the immediate effects on themselves
of the triumph of the mob. A great city laid in ashes, given, up to
robbers and cut-throats, is at any time a terrible spectacle; but New
York in ruins at this time was a republic gone--a nation, uncrowned and
left desolate; but the battle, both for the nation and city, had been
nobly fought and won; and Friday, the fifth day of this protracted
struggle, dawned bright and tranquil. The storm of the night before had
passed away, and the streets, thoroughly washed by the drenching rain,
stretched clean and quiet between the long rows of buildings, emblematic
of the tranquillity that had returned to the city.
The cars were seen once more speeding down to the business centres,
loaded with passengers. Broadway shook to the rumbling of the heavy
omnibuses; shutters were taken down, and the windows again shone
with their rich adornments. The anxious look had departed from the
pedestrians, for the heavy cloud, so full of present woe and future
forebodings, had lifted and passed away.
The following proclamation of Mayor Opdyke will show the true state of
things on this morning, and what the people had most to fear:
"The riotous assemblages have been dispersed. Business is running in its
usual channels. The various lines of omnibuses, railway, and telegraph
have resumed their ordinary operations. Few symptoms of disorder remain,
except in a small district in the eastern part of the city, comprising a
part of the Eighteenth and Twenty-first Wards. The police is everywhere
alert. A sufficient military force is now here to suppress any illegal
movement, however formidable.
"Let me exhort you, therefore, to pursue your ordinary business. Avoid
especially all crowds. Remain quietly at your homes, except when engaged
in business, or assisting the authorities in some organized force. When
the military appear in the street, do not gather about it, being
sure that it is doing its duty in obedience to orders from superior
authority. Your homes and your places of business you have a right to
defend, and it is your duty to defend them, at all hazards. Yield to no
intimidation, and to no demand for money as the price of your safety.
If any person warns you to desist from your accustomed business, give
no heed to the warning, but arrest him and bring him to the nearest
station-house as a conspirator.
"Be assured that the public authorities have the ability and the will
to protect you from those who have conspired alike against your peace,
against the government of your choice, and against the laws which your
representatives have enacted.
"GEORGE OPDYKE, Mayor."
Down-town there was scarcely anything to show that New York had for
nearly a week been swept by one of the most frightful storms that ever
desolated a city. Even in the disaffected districts, no crowds were
assembled. In the corner groggeries, small groups of men might be seen,
discussing the past, and uttering curses and threats; and ruined houses
and battered walls and hanging blinds here and there arrested the eye,
showing what wild work had been wrought; but it was evident that the
struggle was over. The mob was thoroughly subdued, and the law-breakers
now thought more of escaping future punishment than of further acts of
violence. Bruised heads and battered forms were scattered through the
low tenement-houses in every direction, which friends were anxious to
keep concealed from the notice of the authorities. In dirty cellars and
squalid apartments were piled away the richest stuffs--brocaded silks,
cashmere shawls, elegant chairs, vases, bronzes, and articles of virtu,
huddled promiscuously together, damning evidences of guilt, which were
sure not to escape, in the end, the searching eye of the police, who had
already begun to gather up the plunder. Thus the objects mostly coveted
but a few hours ago now awakened the greatest solicitude and fear.
Even if the military under General Brown and the police had not shown
the mob that they were its masters, the arrival of so many regiments,
occupying all the infected districts, was overwhelming evidence that the
day of lawless triumph was over, and that of retribution had come. Some
acts of individual hostility were witnessed, but nothing more.
Archbishop Hughes had his meeting, and some five thousand assembled to
hear him. They were on the whole a peaceable-looking crowd, and it was
evidently composed chiefly, if not wholly, of those who had taken no
part in the riot. None of the bloody heads and gashed faces, of which
there were so many at that moment in the city, appeared. The address was
well enough, but it came too late to be of any service. It might have
saved many lives and much destruction, had it been delivered two days
before, but now it was like the bombardment of a fortress after it had
surrendered--a mere waste of ammunition. The fight was over, and to use
his own not very refined illustration, he "spak' too late." The reports
that came in to Acton from all the precincts convinced him of this, and
he began to think of rest.
The strain was off, and overtasked nature made her demand, and he was
compelled to yield to it. The tremendous work that had been laid
upon him had been right nobly accomplished. Had he been a weak and
vacillating man, the rioters would have acquired a headway that could
not have been stopped, without a more terrible sacrifice of life and
property--perhaps even of half the city. Comprehending intuitively
the gravity of the situation, and the danger of procrastination or
temporizing, he sprang at once for the enemy's throat, and never ceased
his hold until he had strangled him to death. If he had waited to
consult authorities about the legality of his action, or listened to
the voice of pity, or yielded to the clamors of leading politicians
or threats of enemies, both he and the city, in all human probability,
would have been swept away in the hurricane of popular fury.
On this day a most remarkable announcement was published: that a sudden
change had been made in the military command of the troops of the city
and harbor. General Dix superseded General Wool, and Canby, General
Brown. That Wool should have been removed at any time, might have been
expected; not from incapacity, but on account of his age, and because
any one could perform the mere nominal duties that devolved on him. But
why General Brown should have been removed at this critical moment, when
he and the Police Commissioners were performing their herculean task so
faithfully and well, is not so plain; unless it was the result of one of
those freaks of passion or despotic impulse, for which the Secretary of
War was so ignobly distinguished. But unlike many other blunders which
the War Department committed at this time, it did not result in any evil
consequences, for the fight was over. But of this fact the Secretary of
War was ignorant when he made out the order.
General Brown, in relinquishing his command, spoke warmly of the noble
behavior of the troops during the riots, saying: "Engaged night and day
in constant conflict with the mob, they have in some fifteen or twenty
severe contests--in most of them outnumbered more than ten to one, many
of the mob being armed--whipped and effectually dispersed them, and have
been uniformly successful. In not a single instance has assistance been
required by the police, when it has not been promptly rendered; and all
property, public and private, which has been under their protection, has
been perfectly and efficiently protected; and with pride he desires
to record, that in this city, surrounded by grog-shops, but one single
instance of drunkenness has fallen under his observation.
"To Lieutenant-colonel Frothingham, his able and efficient
adjutant-general, he tenders his thanks for his untiring assistance.
"Having during the present insurrection been in immediate and constant
co-operation with police department of this city, he desires the
privilege of expressing his unbounded admiration of it. Never in civil
or military life has he seen such untiring devotion and such efficient
service.
"To President Acton and Commissioner Bergen he offers his thanks for
their courtesy to him and their kindness to his command.
"HARVEY BROWN, _Brigadier-general_."
The praise he bestows both on the police and soldiers was richly
deserved; and he may well say that "with pride he desires to record that
in this city, surrounded with grog-shops, but one single instance of
drunkenness has fallen under his observation." With all a soldier's
tendency to indulge in spirituous liquor, to be thrown right amid
drinking-places, which by harboring rioters had lost all claim to
protection--part of the time suffering from want of food, and often
drenched to the skin, and weary from hard fighting and want of
sleep--not to step away occasionally in the confusion and darkness
of night, and solace himself with stimulating drinks, was something
marvellous. After hard fighting, and long marching, and short rations, a
soldier feels he has a right to indulge in liquor, if he can get it; and
their abstinence from it in such lawless times, not only speaks well
for their discipline, but their character. A single instance shows under
what perfect control the troops were. One day Colonel Ladue, seeing that
his men were exhausted and hungry, desired to let them have a little
beer to refresh them, and the following telegram was sent from the
precinct where they were on duty:
"5.45 P.M. From 9th. Colonel Ladue wishes his men allowed to have beer
in station-house."
_Answer_. "Mr. Acton says he is opposed to beer, but the colonel can
give his men as much as he pleases."
"Acton is opposed to beer," but the troops are not under his command,
and he has no heart to deny the poor fellows the station-house in which
to refresh themselves after their hard day's work. This incident also
shows the strict discipline maintained in the police department.
General Brown had done a noble work. Taking his place beside the Police
Commissioners, he bent all his energies to the single task of carrying
out their plans, and save the city from the hands of the rioters. He
never thought what deference might be due him on the score of etiquette,
or on account of his military rank; he thought only of putting down
the mob at all hazards. His refusal, at first, to serve under General
Sandford was not merely that it was an improper thing to place a
general of the regular army under the orders of a mere militia general,
[Footnote: Because he was especially assigned to the command of the city
by the Secretary of War.] having no rank whatever in the United States
army, but he knew it would paralyze his influence, and in all human
probability result in the useless sacrifice of his troops. The absurdity
of not moving until he received orders from his superior officer, cooped
up in the arsenal, where he remained practically in a state of siege,
was so apparent that he refused to countenance it. He was willing that
President Acton should be his superior officer, and give his orders, and
he would carry them out; for thus he could act efficiently and make his
disciplined battalion tell in the struggle; but for the sake of his
own reputation and that of his troops, he would not consent to hold a
position that would only bring disgrace on both. His views are clearly
expressed in his reply to a highly complimentary letter addressed to him
by the mayor and a large number of prominent citizens, for the signal
services he had rendered. He says: "I never for a moment forgot that to
the police was confided the conservation of the peace of the city;
and that only in conjunction with the city authorities, and on their
requisition, could the United States forces be lawfully and properly
employed in suppressing the riot, and in restoring that peace and good
order which had been so lawlessly broken. Acting in accordance with
this principle, and as aids to the gallant city police, the officers and
soldiers of my command performed the most unpleasant and arduous duty,
with that prompt energy and fearless patriotism which may ever be
expected from the soldiers of the Republic."