This ended the heavy fighting of the day, though minor disturbances occurred at various points during the evening. Negroes had been hunted down all day, as though they were so many wild beasts, and one, after dark, was caught, and after being severely beaten and hanged to a tree, left suspended there till Acton sent a force to take the body down. Many had sought refuge in police-stations and elsewhere, and all were filled with terror.

The demonstrations in the lower part of the city excited the greatest anxiety about the Government buildings in that section—the Custom House and Sub-treasury were tempting prizes to the rioters. General Sandford, commanding the city military, had sent such force as he could collect early in the day to the arsenal, to defend it; for, should the mob once get possession of the arms and ammunition stored there, no one could tell what the end would be. United States troops also were placed in Government buildings to protect them. Almost the last act of the mob this evening was the burning of Postmaster Wakeman's house, in Eighty-sixth Street. Mrs. Wakeman was noted for her kindness to the poor and wretched, who now repaid her by sacking and burning her house. The precinct station near by was also destroyed.

In the meanwhile, an event happened which threatened to disarrange all the plans that had been laid. Military etiquette often overrides the public good, and here, at this critical moment, General Wool chose to consider that, as General Sandford was Major-general, though not in the United States service, he, therefore, ranked Brigadier-general Brown of the regular army, and required him to act under the other's orders. This, Brown promptly refused to do, and asked to be relieved, telling General Wool that such a proceeding was an unheard-of thing. That he was right the order below will show [Footnote: [GENERAL ORDER No. 36.] WAR DEPARTMENT,

Adjutant-general's Office, Washington, April 7th, 1863.

6. The military commander's duties in reference to all troops and enlisted men who happen to serve within the limits of his command will be precisely those of a commanding officer of a military post.

The duties of military commanders above defined, will devolve in the City of New York, and the military posts in that vicinity, on Brevet Brigadier-general H. Brown, Colonel Fifth U. S. Artillery.

By order of the Secretary of War, (Signed) L. THOMAS, Adjutant- general.] that his troops must be under his own command, as he was responsible for their action to the Government, and Sandford was not. Wool, however, continued obstinate, and a total disruption seemed inevitable. Mayor Opdyke, President Acton, Governor Seymour, with several prominent American citizens, were present, and witnessed this disagreement with painful feelings. They knew that it would work mischief, if not paralyze the combined action they hoped to put forth in the morning. General Brown, finding Wool inflexible, turned away, determined to retire altogether. The Mayor and others followed him, and begged him not to abandon them in the desperate strait they were in—to think of nothing but saving the city. General Brown had been too hasty, sticking on a point of mere etiquette, with, perhaps, too much tenacity. True, an officer must insist on his rank as a rule, but there are emergencies when everything of a personal nature must be forgotten—crises where it may be an officer's duty to serve in any capacity, however subordinate, and trust to being righted afterwards. Luckily, General Brown, on a sober second thought, took the proper view, and returned to General Wool, and asked to be reinstated in his command, but giving him to understand that, though he would co-operate in every possible way with General Sandford, he still must retain distinct and separate command of his own troops. This was right, and whether General Wool perfectly understood the arrangement, or seeing how deeply the gentlemen present felt on the subject, chose not to press a mere point of etiquette, does not appear. We only know that if General Brown had given up the command of his troops, the results to the city would have been disastrous.

While these events were passing in the St. Nicholas Hotel, the streets were comparatively quiet. It had been a hard day for the rioters, as well as for the police, and they were glad of a little rest. Besides, they had become more or less scattered by a terrific thunderstorm that broke over the city, deluging the streets with water. In the midst of it, there came a telegraphic dispatch to the commissioners, calling for assistance. The tired police were stretched around on the floor or boxes, seeking a little rest, when they were aroused, and summoned to fall in; and the next moment they plunged into the darkness and rain. They were drenched to the skin before they had gone a block, but they did not heed it—and then, as to the end, and under all circumstances, answered promptly and nobly to every call.

Acton had now gathered a large force at head-quarters, and felt ready to strike at any moment.

While the men flung themselves on the hard floor, like soldiers on the field of battle, ready to start on duty at the first call, Acting Superintendent Acton and his assistants never closed their eyes, but spent the night in telegraphing, organizing, and preparing for the fiercer fights of next day. Much was to be done to cover and protect a district that reached from Brooklyn to Westchester, and it was an anxious night. They had one consolation, however: though taken unawares, they had at the close of the day come out victors, which gave them confidence in the future, especially as now Brown and his trained soldiers were with them.

Some fifteen or twenty policemen had been more or less severely injured, while the number of the killed and wounded of the mob was wholly unknown. Both the dead and maimed were left by the police where they fell, and were almost immediately hurried away by their friends.

The destruction of property on this first day, consisted of four buildings on Third Avenue burned, also a block on Broadway between Twenty-eighth and Twenty-ninth Streets; two brown-stone dwellings in Lexington Avenue; Allerton's Hotel near Bull's Head; a cottage, corner of Forty-fifth Street and Fifth Avenue; the Colored Orphan Asylum, and the armory corner of Twenty-first Street and Second Avenue.



CHAPTER XV.

Telegraph Bureau.—Its Work.—Skill and Daring and Success of its Force.— Interesting Incidents.—Hairbreadth Escapes.—Detective Force.—Its arduous Labors.—Its Disguises.—Shrewdness, Tact, and Courage.—Narrow Escapes.—Hawley, the Chief Clerk.—His exhausting Labors.

One thing Commissioners Acton and Bergen in their consultation settled must be done at all hazards—telegraphic communication must he kept open with the different precincts. Otherwise it would be impossible to concentrate men at any given point, quick enough to arrest the mob before they spread devastation and conflagration far and wide. Every hour gained by a mob in accumulating or organizing its forces, increases the difficulty of dispersing it. The rioters understood this partially, and had acted accordingly; but the rich spoils they had come across during the day, had driven, for the time being, all other thoughts but plunder out of their heads. Some communications had already been destroyed, and the rioters would evidently by morning have their eyes open to the importance of doing this everywhere, and their efforts must be foiled, no matter what the risk or sacrifice might be. They had already cut down over sixty poles, and rendered upwards of twelve miles of wire useless; and how much more would share the same fate the next day, no one could tell.

The superintendent and deputy of the Telegraph Bureau, Messrs. Crowley and Polhamus, with the operators mentioned before, were, therefore, set at work this very evening in the storm, to restore the broken lines.

This was a perilous undertaking, for if once discovered, their lives would be instantly sacrificed.

The details of their operations, their disguises, ingenious contrivances, deceptions, and boldness in carrying out their object, would make an attractive chapter in itself. Often compelled to mingle with the mob, always obliged to conceal what they were about, not daring to raise a pole or handle a wire unless cautiously or secretly, they yet restored the lines in the north section by morning, and those in the south by Wednesday evening. Sometimes they were compelled to carry a wire over the top of a house, sometimes round it, through a back-yard; in short, every device and expedient was resorted to by these daring, sharp-witted men. Once Polhamus had his boots burned off in tramping through the burning ruins of a building after the wires. Once he and Mr. Crowley came near being clubbed to death by the police, who mistook them for rioters, so ingeniously and like them were they at work among the ruins. Captain Brower rescued them, or their services might have ended on the spot.

This work was kept steadily up during the continuation of the riots. On one occasion, Mr. Crowley, hearing that the wires were down in the Ninth and Tenth Avenues, hastened thither alone, when he encountered a large mob. Fearing to pass through it he hesitated a moment, when he noticed a carriage driving in the direction he wished to go, in which was a Catholic priest. He immediately hailed it and was taken in. As the carriage entered the mob, the latter surrounded it, and supposing the inmates were reporters, began to yell "Down with the d—d reporters;" but the moment they recognized the priest, they allowed it to pass. Often the two would take a hack; and passing themselves off as drivers, go through infected districts, and search points to which they otherwise could not have gone. One time they were returning from an expedition through Third Avenue, and had reached Houston Street, when they were hailed by a gang of rioters, who demanded to be taken downtown. They had to comply, for the men were armed with pistols, and so took them in and kept along Houston Street, under the pretence of going down through Broadway, knowing that when they reached Mulberry Street they would be in hailing distance of the head- quarters of the police. It was just after daybreak, and Crowley and Polhamus urged on the horses, expecting in a few minutes to have their load safely locked up. The fellows evidently not liking the vicinity to which the drivers were taking them, ordered them to wheel about, which they were compelled to do, and drive under their direction to an old house in the Tenth Ward. There they got out, and offering the drivers a drink and fifty cents, let them go. On one occasion, Crowley, while examining the wires in Second Avenue, was suspected by the mob, who fell upon him, and it was only by the greatest coolness and adroitness he convinced them he was a rioter himself, and so escaped. At another time they were going along in a common wagon, when they were hemmed in by a crowd, and escaped by passing themselves off as farmers from Westchester. Had they been discovered, they would have been killed on the spot.

DETECTIVE FORCE.

The duties of this force are well known, but during the riots they had something more important to do than to work up individual cases. The force, with John Young as chief, and M. B. Morse as clerk, consisted in all of seventeen persons. These men are selected for their superior intelligence, shrewdness, sagacity, and undoubted courage. Full of resources, they must also be cool, collected, and fearless. During the riots they were kept at work day and night, obtaining knowledge of facts that no others could get, and thus supplying the different precincts and head-quarters with invaluable information. Their duty was a most perilous one, for it called them to go into the very heart of the turbulent districts; nay, into the very midst of the mob, where detection would have been followed by death, and that of the most horrible kind. Chief Young, with his clerk, was engaged at head-quarters, so that fifteen men had to perform the required work for the whole city. Sometimes alone, sometimes two or three together, they seemed omnipresent. In all sorts of disguises, feigning all sorts of employments and characters, sometimes on horseback and again driving an old cart or a hack, they pressed with the most imperturbable effrontery into the very vortex of danger. Ever on the watch, and accustomed to notice every expression of the countenance, they would discover at a single glance when they were suspected, and remove the suspicion at once by some clever device. Sometimes one of them, seeing himself watched, would quietly ascend the steps of a residence, and ringing the bell, make some inquiry as though he were on business, and then deliberately walk off; or if he thought it would not do to have his face too closely scanned, he would step inside and wait till the crowd moved on. Sometimes, with a stone or club in their hands, they would shout with the loudest, and engaging in conversation with the ringleaders themselves, ascertain their next move; then quietly slip away to the nearest station, and telegraph to head-quarters the information. When the telegraph had been cut off, they had to take the place of the wires, and carry through the very heart of the crowd their news to the department.

On their ears again and again would ring the fearful cry, "There goes Kennedy's spies;" and it required the most consummate acting and self- possession to allay the suspicion. Often on a single word or act hinged their very lives. Some of these men were in the mob that made the first attack on Mayor Opdyke's house, and while apparently acting with it, learned of the intended movement down to police head-quarters, and at once telegraphed the fact, which enabled Carpenter to prepare for them, and give them the terrible beating we have described. At the burning and sacking of different buildings they were present, and often would follow unnoticed the ringleaders for hours, tracking them with the tireless tenacity of a sleuth hound, until they got them separate from the crowd, and then pounce suddenly upon them, and run them into the nearest station. The lawlessness that prevailed not only let loose all the thieves and burglars of the city, but attracted those from other places, who practised their vocation with impunity. To lessen this evil, the detectives one night quietly made visits to some half a dozen "lushing cribs," as they are called, in Eighth and Fourteenth Streets, and seized about thirty noted thieves, burglars, and garroters, and locked them up for safe- keeping. They also warned the negroes of threatened danger, and directed them, to places of safety; and in case of emergency acted as guides to the military in their operations. In short, they were ubiquitous, indefatigable, and of immense service. They played the part of unerring pointers to the commissioners, telling them when and where to strike; yet strange to say, such was their skill, their ingenuity, and exhaustless resources, that they all escaped being assaulted, save one named Slowly. He was passing through the very heart of the riotous district, in Second Avenue, when some one who had evidently been once in his clutches, recognized him, and pointing him out, shouted "Detective!" Instantly a rush was made for him, and he was knocked down, and kicked and stamped upon. Regaining, with a desperate effort, his feet, he sprang up the steps of a house, and fought his assailants fiercely, till the lady of the house, seeing his perilous situation, courageously opened the door and let him in, and then bolted and barred it in the face of the mob. Through some strange apprehension, the baffled wretches, though they howled, and swore, and threatened, did not force an entrance, and he escaped.

In this connection, while speaking of those whose duties were uniform and running through the whole period of the riots, might be mentioned Seth C. Hawley, the chief clerk. Like Acton, he has a nervous, wiry temperament. This often makes a man rash and headlong, and hence not reliable; but when combined, as in him, with perfect self-possession and self-control, imparts enormous power. It matters not how nervous and excitable a man is, if danger and responsibility instead of confusing and unsettling him, only winds him up to a higher tension, till he becomes like a tightly-drawn steel spring. Excitement then not only steadies him, but it quickens his perceptions, clears his judgment, gives rapidity to his decisions, and terrible force to his blow. Mr. Hawley's duties were of a various and exhausting kind, so that during all the riots, he allowed himself only one hours' rest out of every twenty-four. Besides his ordinary supervisory duties over the clerks, etc., he had to see to the execution of the almost incessant orders of the commissioners, provide and issue arms, see to the refugees and prisoners, and act as commissary to over four thousand men on duty in and around head-quarters. Two men more perfectly fitted to work together in such a crisis as this, than he and Acton, could not well be found.



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.



CHAPTER XVII.

DRAFT RIOT—THIRD DAY.

Scenes in the City and at Head-quarters.—Fight in Eighth Avenue.—Cannon sweep the Streets.—Narrow Escape of Captain Howell and Colonel Mott.— Battle for Jackson's Foundry.—Howitzers clear the Street.—State of Things shown by Telegraph Despatches.—General Sandford sends out a Force against a Mob, at Corner of Twenty-ninth Street and Seventh Avenue.— Colonel Gardin's Fight with the Mob.—Is Wounded.—Mob Victorious.—Dead and Wounded Soldiers left in the Street.—Captain Putnam sent to bring them away.—Disperses the Mob.—Terrific Night.

Tuesday had been a day of constant success to the police and military, and many thought that the rioters were thoroughly disheartened, and but little more hard fighting would be done. There had been two days of exhausting work, and both parties were well tired out. The commissioners, certainly, could not stand this terrible strain much longer. Forty-eight hours without sleep or rest, and all the time under the intensest mental strain, was telling on even the wiry Acton, though he would confess to no fatigue.

To one who could take in all that was passing in New York on this morning, the city would have presented a strange appearance.

The magnitude and demonstrations of the mob had aroused great fear for the Navy Yard and the naval property of the Government, and the marine company that had been on duty with the police was recalled by Admiral Paulding for their protection; and this morning six war-vessels, carrying in all over ninety guns, shotted and trained, could be seen drawn up, so as to command every avenue to the yard, while the iron-clad battery Passaic and a gun-boat lay off the Battery to protect Fort Columbus during the absence of its garrison. Marines armed to the teeth, and howitzers, guarded all the entrances to the Navy Yard. Broadway was almost deserted—no stages were running, street-cars had disappeared—only here and there shutters were taken down from the stores, and it looked like Sabbath day in the city. But at police head-quarters all was activity. The African church nearly opposite was filled with soldiers stretched on the seats and floor of the building. Another house, a few doors from the police building, was also crowded with soldiers. The owner of this empty house, having sent a flat refusal to Acton's request for the use of it, the latter quietly told the policemen to stave in the door. It took but a few minutes to send it from its hinges; and now the troops were quartered in it also; for all those in the service of the United States, under General Brown, had their head-quarters here.

In the basement of the police building was the telegraph, with the wires running like nerves to every part of the city, over which inquiries and answers were continually passing. Rooms all around were filled with rations obtained from a neighboring grocery and meatmarket, taken with or without leave. On the main floor, on one side, in their office sat the weary commissioners; on the other, were Inspectors Carpenter, Dilks, and Leonard, fit, each one to be a general, while scattered around were police captains, detectives, and patrolmen. On the second story were the clerks, copyists, etc.; while the top floor was crowded with colored refugees, who had fled thither for protection. Some were standing and conversing, others sitting in groups on boxes, or walking from room to room; many of these sad and serious, as they thought of missing relatives and friends, while the colored man placed over them, with his shirt sleeves rolled up, was, with his assistants, dealing out provisions.

But soon it was announced that a vast crowd, numbering some five thousand, was assembled near Eighth Avenue and Thirty-second Street, sacking houses and hanging negroes. General Dodge and Colonel Mott, with Captain Howell, commanding Eighth Regiment Artillery, were at once despatched thither. As they marched up the avenue, they saw three negroes hanging dead, while the crowd around filled the air with fiendish shouts. As the firm, compact head of the column moved forward, the mob fell back, but did not scatter. Colonel Mott dashed forward on horseback and cut down one of the negroes with his sword. This seemed to be the signal for the mob to commence the attack, and the next moment they rushed forward on the soldiers with stones, brick-bats, and slung-shots. Colonel Mott then told Captain Howell to bring two pieces into battery on the corner of Thirty-second Street and Seventh Avenue, so as to sweep the streets; but he could not get through the dense crowd to do so. The infantry and cavalry were then ordered up and told to clear the way. The former, with level bayonets, and the latter with drawn sabres, charged on the mass, which parted and fell back some distance, and then halted. Captain Howell then advanced alone, and ordered the rioters to disperse, or he should fire on them. To this they replied in sullen silence. The apparent unwillingness of the captain to fire emboldened them to believe that he would not fire at all. Although they refused to disperse, the officers, as long as they made no assault, declined to give the word to fire. This delay encouraged the rioters still more; and either believing the guns, whose muzzles pointed so threateningly on them, were loaded with blank cartridges, or grown desperate and reckless with rage, they suddenly, as though moved by a common impulse, rushed forward and rained stones and missiles of every kind on the soldiers. Seeing that their object was to seize the guns and turn them on the troops, the word to fire was given. The next moment a puff of smoke rolled out, followed with a report that shook the buildings. As the murderous shot tore through the crowded mass, they stopped, and swayed heavily back for a moment, when the pieces were quickly reloaded, and again sent their deadly contents into their midst, strewing the pavements with the dead and dying. Those, however, in the rear, being protected by the mass in front, refused to give way, and it was not till five or six rounds had been fired that they finally broke and fled down the side streets. The military then broke into columns and marched up and down the streets, scattering everything before them, and arresting many of the rioters.

Having finished their work, they returned to head-quarters. As they left the district, the mob, or a portion of it, gathered together again, and strung up afresh the lifeless bodies of the negroes.

A few hours later, Captain Brower, with a police force, was sent thither, to take down and remove the bodies of any negroes that might be still hanging. He did so without molestation.

Captain Howell's murderous fire on the mob came very near causing his death two days after. Having the curiosity to witness the scene of his struggle with the mob, he took his carriage, and drove over to it. A gang of seven or eight ruffians, seeing his uniform, cried out, "There's the man who fired on us here—let us hang him." Their shouts called others to the spot, and almost before the captain was aware of his danger, some fifty men were assembled, and at once made a dash at the driver, and ordered him to stop. Captain Howell, quickly drawing his revolver, pointed it at the driver, and ordered him to turn down Thirty-first Street, and give his horses the whip, or he would shoot him on the spot. The man obeying, lashed his horses into a run. At this moment the crowd was all around the carriage, and one man was climbing up behind, when he fell and was run over. A shower of stones and brick-bats followed, breaking in the panels of the carriage, and narrowly missing the captain's head.

One stone struck an old wound in his side, and for a moment paralyzed his arm. The crowd with yells and shouts followed after, when he turned and emptied his revolver at them through the back window, which brought them to a halt. Colonel Mott had a similar escape the day before. Passing down one of the avenues in a carriage, he was recognized by some of the rioters, who immediately assailed him with stones, and fired at him. One of the bullets passed through the cushion on which he was sitting.

Soon after this affair in Seventh Avenue, word was telegraphed that Jackson's foundry, corner of Twenty-eighth Street, First and Second Avenues, was threatened. A military force was despatched forthwith to it, piloted by four policemen. At Twenty-first Street and First Avenue, they were fired on by the mob. The attack was continued through the street to Second Avenue, and up this to Twenty-fifth Street, without any notice being taken of it by the troops. Made reckless by this forbearance, the rioters began to close up in more dangerous proximity, when the howitzer was unlimbered and pointed down the avenue. The mob not liking the looks of this, scattered, when the column resumed its march. The mob then rallied, and followed after, with shouts and distant shots, till the foundry on Twenty-eighth Street was reached. Here another mob came up from First Avenue, and the two made a simultaneous attack. The command was then given to fire, and a volley was poured into the crowd. Rapidly loading and firing, the troops soon stretched so many on the pavement, that the rest broke and fled. The military then entered the building and held it. The mob gathered around it, threatening to storm it, but could not pluck up courage to make the attempt. They seemed especially exasperated against the policemen, and had the effrontery to send a committee to the officer in command, demanding their surrender. If their request was refused, they declared they would storm the building at all hazards; but if complied with, they would disperse. The committee had to shout out their demands from the street. In reply, the officer told them if they did not take themselves off instantly, he would fire upon them; upon which they incontinently took to their heels.

As the day wore on, things began to wear a still more threatening aspect. Despatches came in from every quarter, announcing the activity of the mob. To a question sent to the Thirteenth Precinct, a little past twelve, inquiring how things were going on in Grand Street, was returned the following reply: "Lively; store-keepers have fired into the mob; no force there yet."

12.20. From Twenty-first. Building corner Thirty-third Street, Second Avenue, is set on fire by the mob.

12.50. From Fifteenth. Send assistance to Twenty-first Precinct; they are about attacking it.

12.55. From Twenty-sixth. It is reported that Government stores in Greenwich, near Liberty, are on fire; fired by mob.

1.10. From Twenty-seventh. Send more men here forthwith.

1.25. From Fourth. Fire corner of Catharine Street and East Broadway.

1.45. A man just in from Eleventh Precinct, reports a number of bands of robbers, numbering from fifty to one hundred each, breaking into stores in Houston, near Attorney Street.

1.47 P.M. From Twenty-ninth. The mob have cleared Twenty-first Precinct station-house.

2 P.M. From Twenty-ninth. A large mob surrounded Captain Green's house, Twenty-eighth Street, Third Avenue. He escaped out of the back window; they threatened to hang him.

3.10 P.M. To Eleventh. Send to foot of Fourteenth Street, East River, and if military is there, send word here forthwith.

3.15. From Twenty-fourth. Mob are firing the building on Second Avenue, near Twenty-eighth Street. Immediate assistance is required. Houses occupied by negroes, who are fleeing for their lives.

3.25. From Twentieth. The mob are sacking houses at Twenty-seventh Street and Seventh Avenue. We have no force to send.

3.30. From Twenty-first. There is an attack on the colored people in Second Avenue, between Twenty-eighth and Twenty-ninth Streets.

3.40. From Eleventh. Send to 242 Stanton Street, and take possession of cavalry swords forthwith.

There were five thousand cavalry swords there, and the mob were assembling to capture them; and the telegram announcing the fact, and the one ordering a force to seize them, were received and answered the same minute.

3.55. To Twenty-first. How do things look?

Ans. Very bad; large crowd in Thirty-fifth Street, near Third Avenue, and no assistance from adjoining precinct.

4 o'clock. To Twenty-first. What is going on?

Ans. The mob have captured some five or six negroes, and are preparing to hang them; be quick with reinforcements.

4.43. From Twentieth. News have just come in that the mob are about to attack the Twenty-second Precinct station-house.

5.15. From Sixteenth. Send us one hundred special shields and clubs; the citizens are arming up well.

5.15. From Twenty-ninth. Who feeds the special men?

Ans. You must, far as able.

Reply. No money.

Ans. It makes no difference; they must be fed; we are responsible.

5.20. From Twenty-ninth. The rioters are now on Seventh Avenue and Twenty- eighth Street. They have just killed a negro; say they are going to cut off the Croton; they have pickaxes and crowbars; and also say they will cut off the gas; so reported by one of our men, who has been in the crowd; they were about to fire corner of Twenty-eighth Street and Seventh Avenue, when he came away.

To have cut off the water and extinguished the gas, would have been master-strokes; but the military arrived in time to prevent it.

5.25. From First. Riot at Pier 4, North River; they have killed negroes there.

Thus, at the same moment, from the two extreme ends of the city, came the news of riots and calls for help. From points five miles apart, the wires would bring simultaneously tidings that showed the mob omnipresent.

In the midst of all these incessant exhausting labors, the following telegram came from the Twentieth Precinct:

"General Sandford says he has so many negroes at the arsenal, that he must get rid of them."

Acton's answer was characteristic. He had no time for formalities or courteous exchange of views. In an instant there flashed back over the wires the curt reply:

"Tell General Sandford he must do the best he can with them there."

General Sandford had at this time about the same number of men under his command at the arsenal that General Brown had at police head-quarters; yet the former, up to this morning, had not sent out a single company to assist the police to arrest the devastations of the mob. He apparently did not know what was going on, had hardly kept up any communication with the Police Commissioners or Governor Seymour, but now begs the former to relieve him of some colored refugees, as if the overworked commissioners had not enough on their hands already. This request is especially noteworthy, when taken in connection with his after report, in which he states that on this morning the riot was substantially over; so much so, at least, that the police could do all that was necessary without the aid of the military. It would seem that if he really thought that the rest of the work should be left to them, he might have sent off some of his troops, and made room for the negroes in the arsenal.

At about two o'clock in the afternoon word was received that a large number of muskets were secreted in a store on Broadway, near Thirty-third Street; and Colonel Meyer was ordered to proceed thither, with thirty- three soldiers belonging to Hawkins' Zouaves, and take possession of them. Reaching the place, he found a large mob gathered, which was momentarily increasing. He, however, succeeded in entering the building, and brought out the arms. An Irishman happening to pass by in his cart, the colonel seized it, and pitching in the guns, closed around it, and moved off.

Citizens offering their services were coming in all day, and a company was formed and placed under the command of Charles A. Lamont, and did good service. Others also were enrolled and placed on duty.

Colonel Sherwood's battery of rifled cannon arrived in the afternoon, and was put in position in front of the arsenal, where the firing of pickets all day would indicate that an attack was momentarily expected. This did not look as if General Sandford thought the riot substantially over.

At about five o'clock, it was ordered by Sandford, with an infantry force of one hundred and fifty, to corner of Twenty-seventh Street and Seventh Avenue, to quell a mob assembled in large numbers at that point, and which were gutting, and plundering, and firing houses. As they approached, they saw flames bursting from windows, while, to complete the terror of the scene, the body of a negro hung suspended from a lamp-post, his last struggle just ended. At the same time that the military arrived, firemen, who had come to put out the fire, reached the spot in another direction. One portion of the mob immediately took shelter behind the latter, so that the troops dared not fire and clear the streets, while another ran up to the house-tops, armed with guns and pistols, for the purpose of firing into the ranks below. The colonel told his men to keep a sharp lookout, and at the first shot fire. Scores of guns were immediately pointed towards the roofs of the houses. In the meantime, from some cause not fully explained, the imposing force, after this demonstration, marched away, leaving the mob in full possession of the field. It had hardly reached the protection of the arsenal again, when the plundering and violence recommenced; and in a short time two more negroes were amusing the spectators with their death throes, as they hung by the neck from lamp-posts. This was the second expedition sent out by Sandford, the commander-in-chief of the military, during the riot.

Towards evening word was brought to the Seventh Regiment armory that the mob had gathered in great force in First Avenue, between Eighteenth and Nineteenth Streets.

Colonel Winston, in command, immediately ordered out a force, composed in part of the military, and in part of enrolled citizens, and with a battery of two howitzers, under command of Colonel Jardine, of Hawkins' Zouaves, marched rapidly to the scene of disturbance. Passing down Nineteenth Street to the avenue, it halted, and unlimbering the pieces, trained them so as to command the avenue, while the infantry formed in line to support them. As soon as the rioters saw the guns bearing on them, they dodged into basements, and mounted to the windows and roofs of the tenement buildings that abounded in that vicinity. A number of them armed with muskets and pistols, and the rest with stones and brick-bats, began a fierce and determined attack on the troops. The howitzers, loaded with grape and canister, at once swept the street. After the first discharge, but few ventured to show themselves in the avenue, until after they heard the report, when they would dodge from behind corners and fire back. But from the tops of the houses an incessant fusillade was kept up. The soldiers endeavored to pick them off, but the rioters presented a small mark compared to that which the troops, massed in the open streets, furnished; and it was soon apparent that the fight was unequal. If they had only had a police force to enter the buildings, and hunt the men from the roofs, the fight would soon have been over. But the commander, thinking he could not spare a sufficient number to do this work, or that the soldiers, cumbered with their muskets, which, after the first discharge, would have to be clubbed, could make no headway in such a hand- to-hand fight, made no effort to dislodge the wretches, who loaded and fired with the most imperturbable coolness. One man was seen to step round the corner, after the discharge of the battery, and resting his gun on the shoulder of a fellow-rioter, take as deliberate aim at Colonel Jardine as he would at a squirrel on the limb of a tree, and fire. The ball struck the colonel in the thigh, and brought him to the pavement. Other officers shared his fate, while at every discharge, men would drop in the ranks. The howitzers rattled their shot on the deserted pavements and walls of the houses, but did no damage to the only portion of the enemy they had to fear, while the fight between the infantry and the rioters was like that between soldiers in the open field and Indians in ambush. Colonel Winston soon saw that it was madness to keep his men there, to be picked off in detail, and ordered a retreat. At the first sign of a retrograde movement, a cry rang along the avenue; and from the side streets, and basements, and houses, the mob swarmed forth so furiously, that it assumed huge proportions at once, and chased the retiring soldiers with yells and taunts, and pressed them so hotly that they could not bring off all their killed and wounded. Among those left behind was Colonel Jardine. He took refuge in a basement, where the mob found him, and would have killed him on the spot, had not one of them recognized him as an old acquaintance, and for some reason or other protected him from further violence; and he was eventually carried to the house of a surgeon near by.