The mob were left masters of the field, and soon began their depredations. The state of things was at length reported to police head-quarters, and General Brown sent off Captain Putman, with Captain Shelby and a hundred and fifty regulars and two field-pieces, to disperse the mob and bring away the dead and wounded of Winston's force that might remain. They reached the spot between ten and eleven o'clock at night. The dimly lighted streets were black with men, while many, apprised of the approach of the military, mounted again to the roofs as before. Putnam immediately charged on the crowd in the street, scattering them like a whirlwind. He then turned his guns on the buildings, and opened such a deadly fire on them that they were soon cleared. Having restored order, he halted his command, and remained on the ground till half-past twelve.

At the same time a mob was pulling down the negro houses in York Street, which they soon left a heap of ruins. Houses plundered or set on fire in various parts of the city, combined with the ringing of fire-bells, thunder of cannon, and marching of troops, made this night like its predecessor—one of horror.

There was also a disturbance in Brooklyn. Shaw's and Fancher's elevators, and Wheeler's store on the docks, were set on fire, and a force ordered to put them out.

The illumination of the windows from the Times building this evening shed a brilliant glow over Printing-house Square, and flooded the Park to the City Hall with light, while an armed force within was ready to fire on any mob that should dare expose itself in the circle of its influence.

At 12.15 the following telegram was sent:

"To all stations. How are things in your precinct?"

Answer. "All quiet."

Thus the third night of this terrible riot passed away still unsubdued, and still Acton sat at his post, awake, while others slept, and kept feeling through the telegraph wires the pulse of the huge, fevered city. The regiments coming back from Pennsylvania might arrive at any time, and he was anxious to know the moment they reached the New York docks. The Seventh Regiment, especially, he knew was expected to reach the city that night by special train. Policemen were therefore kept on the watch; but the regiment did not arrive till after daylight. About half-past four in the morning, the steady ranks were seen marching along Canal Street towards Broadway, and soon drew up in front of St. Nicholas Hotel.



CHAPTER XVIII.

FOURTH DAY.

Proclamations by the Governor and Mayor.—City districted.—Appearance of the East Side of the City.—A small Squad of Soldiers chased into a Foundry by the Mob.—Fierce Fight between the Mob and Military in Twenty- ninth Street.—Soldiers driven from the Ground, leaving a dead Sergeant behind.—Captain Putnam sent to bring the Body away.—Mows down the Rioters with Canister.—Storms the Houses.—Utter Rout of the Mob.— Colored Orphans and Negroes taken by Police to Blackwell's Island.— Touching Scene.—Coming on of Night and a Thunderstorm.—Returning Regiments.—Increased Force in the City to put down Violence.—Archbishop Hughes offers to address the Irish.—Curious Account of an Interview of a Lady with him and Governor Seymour.—Strange Conduct of the Prelate.

Only the principal disturbances of the third day were given, and of these the accounts were very succinct. The movements of the mobs and the conflicts with them were so similar in character, that a detailed description of them would be a mere repetition of what had gone before. After the police force, and the troops under General Brown had become organized so as to move and act together, each fight with the rioters was almost a repetition of its predecessor. Having adopted a plan of procedure, they seldom deviated from it, and the story of one fight became the story of all—a short struggle and a quick victory.

It was hoped this morning that the rioters would conclude that they could not carry out their mad designs; for the enrolment of large bodies of citizens, and the announcement of the speedy return of several regiments, showed that all the force necessary to subdue them was, or soon would be, on hand. The day before, the Governor had issued a proclamation, declaring the city to be in a state of insurrection; but this morning appeared a proclamation from Mayor Opdyke, announcing that the insurrection was practically ended. It is true he called on the citizens to form voluntary associations, with competent leaders, to patrol their separate districts, to protect themselves from roaming gangs of plunderers, and so spare the exhausted police and military. Yet he called on the citizens to resume their usual avocations, and directed the railroad and stage lines to resume their routes. This opinion of the Mayor was strengthened by the positive announcement that the draft had been suspended, and the passage of an ordinance by the City Council, appropriating $2,500,000 towards paying $300 exemption money to the poor who might be drafted. It was plain, if the draft was the cause of the continued riot, it would now cease. But in spite of all this, bad news came from Harlem, and Yorkville, and other sections. In fact, it was evident that the Police Commissioners did not share fully in the pleasant anticipations of the Mayor. Having ascertained that the leaders of the mob, learning from experience, had organized more intelligently, and designed to act in several distinct and separate bodies in different sections, they, with General Brown, divided the city into four districts, in each one of which were to be stationed strong bodies of the police and military, so that they could act with more expedition and efficiency than if they were sent out from the common head- quarters in Mulberry Street. It would, beside, save the fatigue of long marches. Those separate stations were in Harlem, Eighteenth, Twenty-ninth, and Twenty-sixth Precincts. A good deal was also expected by an invitation given by Archbishop Hughes, that appeared in the morning papers, to the Irish to meet him next day in front of his house, where, though crippled from rheumatism, he would address them from the balcony. The Eighth Avenue cars had been started, as well as those of the Third; and many stores were opened. Still, on the east side of the city, in the neighborhood of First Avenue, most of the shops were closed.

It should be here remarked to the credit of the German population, which were very numerous in certain localities on this side of the city, that they had no sympathy with the rioters; on the contrary, sent word to the Police Commissioners not to be concerned about their locality; they had organized, and would see that order was maintained there. No better title to American citizenship than this could be shown.



Though early in the morning, it was comparatively quiet on the east side of the city; yet near First Avenue knots of men could be seen here and there, engaged in loud and angry conversation. They looked exhausted and haggard, but talked defiant as ever, swearing terrible vengeance against the military; for, though hidden from sight, in the miserable tenement- houses near by, lay their dead, dying, and wounded friends by scores. Near Nineteenth Street, the scene of the conflict the evening previous, there were stones, brick-bats, shivered awning-posts, and other wrecks of the fight. The grog-shops were open, in which men with bloody noses, and bruised and battered faces, obtained the necessary stimulus to continue the desperate struggle. Dirty, slovenly-dressed women stood in the door- ways or on the steps, swearing and denouncing both police and military in the coarsest language. Though the immense gatherings of the preceding days were not witnessed, yet there was a ground-swell of passion that showed the lawless spirit was not subdued, though overawed. But the Police Commissioners were now prepared for whatever might occur. The Seventh Regiment had been stationed on the west side of the city, with a wide district to keep in order, thus enabling them to concentrate larger forces in other directions. But, although everything wore this favorable aspect to the authorities, it was evident towards noon, from the steadily increasing size of the groups observed in the morning, that they had resolved to try again their strength with the military. The state of things was telegraphed to police head-quarters, but the report making the mob not formidable, only a company of about twenty-five men were sent out. Finding the rioters numbered about two hundred or more, and not daring to fire their howitzer, lest, before it could be reloaded, the former would rush forward and seize it, they concluded to retire. The mob at once set furiously on them, and forced them to take refuge in Jackson's foundry. The following telegram to head-quarters announced the fact:

"1.25. From Twenty-first. The mob has charged our military, about twenty- five in number, and driven them into Jackson's foundry, First Avenue and Twenty-eighth Street. The mob are armed, and every time a regular shows himself they fire. A few good skirmishers would pick off these riflemen and relieve the military."

This was soon succeeded by the following:

"1.54. From Twenty-first. Send military assistance immediately to First Avenue and Twenty-eighth Street. The mob increases, and will murder the military force."

Ans. "They are on their way up."

They soon arrived, and were at once furiously attacked by the mob. The soldiers fired into them, but they boldly held their ground, and were evidently bent on a desperate fight.

The former now took up their stations at the junction of the streets, and were about to sweep them with canister, when from some cause a delay was ordered. This increased the boldness of the mob, and they taunted and derided the soldiers. But in a few minutes a reinforcement of regulars arrived on the ground and charged bayonets. The rioters fell back, but rallying, forced the soldiers to retire in turn. The latter, however, returned to the charge, when the mob again gave way, but still stubbornly refused to disperse.

News of the magnitude of the struggle reached the Seventh Regiment, and they rapidly marched to the spot. Their steady tramp along the pavement, and well-set ranks, discouraged the crowd, and they marched and counter- marched through the streets without molestation.

The mob, however, dispersed only to reassemble again in Twenty-ninth Street, and began to plunder the stores in the vicinity, and spread devastation on every side.

This being reported to head-quarters, a military force was despatched to disperse them. The rioters, however, instead of retreating, attacked them with the greatest fury. Almost every house was filled with them, and they lined the roofs with muskets and pistols, from which they poured down a deadly fire. For nearly a half an hour the fire was kept up without cessation, and many were killed. A sergeant was knocked down by a brick- bat, and then seized and beaten to death. The troops finding themselves unable to dislodge the assailants, retreated, leaving the body of the sergeant in the street, where it lay for three hours. General Brown not having a sufficient number of troops on hand, the mob all this time had it their own way. It was nine o'clock before he could despatch Captain Putnam with a strong force to put an end to the disgraceful scene. Arriving on the spot, the latter addressed the crowd, saying that he had come to carry away the dead body of the sergeant, and should do it at all hazards. But he had hardly placed it in a wagon, when the crowd began to assail his troops. He immediately unlimbered his pieces, when it scattered in every direction. But the rioters came together again at the corner of Thirty- first Street and Second Avenue, where they were met by reinforcements, and made a stand. They filled the houses, and mounted to the roofs, armed with muskets and revolvers, and as Putnam appeared, commenced a rapid fire. Placing his pieces in position, this gallant officer swept the street with canister, which soon cleared it. Eleven of the ringleaders were shot down, and bodies lay thick on the pavement. But this did not intimidate those in the windows, or on the roofs, and they kept up a steady fire. Putnam, who showed by his cool courage that the fighting stock from which he came had not degenerated, now ordered his men to turn their fire on the buildings. At each discharge, the heavy volleys brought down many of the wretches, some pitching headlong from the roof, and dashing out their brains on the pavement and flagging below. But the fight was very unequal, for the assailants would expose their bodies as little as possible; Putnam saw that the houses must be stormed, and gave the order to do it. The fight was now transferred to the inside, and became close and murderous. In the narrow halls and on the stairways, numbers were of no avail, and the rioters fought with a desperation they had not before exhibited. There was no way of escape, and they seemed to prefer death to being taken prisoners, and for a half an hour maintained the conflict in the darkened rooms and passages with a ferocity that was appalling. At last, however, with their numbers sadly thinned, they were forced to yield, and took refuge in flight. Many, unable to get away, hid under beds and in closets, but the soldiers ferreted them out, and carried them to police head- quarters.

The arsenal had not been attacked, as Sandford seemed every day to think it would be. Many colored people, as before stated, took refuge in it; and about noon on this day, a body of police arrived before it, with the children of the Colored Orphan Asylum that had been burned on Monday, in charge. They had since that time been scattered round in station-houses, but were now to be escorted to Blackwell's Island, for better security. It was an impressive spectacle this army of children presented, as they drew up in line in front of the arsenal to wait for those within to join them. The block was filled with them. The frightened little fugitives, fleeing from they scarce knew what, looked bewildered at their novel position. It seemed impossible that they ever could have been the objects of any one's vengeance. With a strong body of police in front and rear, and a detachment of soldiers on either side, they toddled slowly down to the foot of Thirty-fifth Street, from whence they were taken by boats to the Island.

The Sixty-fifth New York Regiment arrived from Harrisburg in the afternoon, and just before midnight the One Hundred and Fifty-second also reached the city, and marched up Broadway to police head-quarters, where they were stowed away to get some rest.

A heavy storm that set in during the evening, helped to scatter the crowd that would otherwise have gathered on this warm July night, but it at the same time gave a sombre aspect to the city. The crescent moon was veiled in black, and thunderous clouds that swept heavily over the city, deepened the gloom, and seemed portentous of greater evil. The closing of all the stores and shop-windows at nightfall, through fear, left the streets lighted only by the scattering lamps. This unusual stretch of blank dead walls, emitting no ray of light, rendered the darkness made by the overhanging storm still more impenetrable. Flashes of lightning would reveal small groups of men bent on plunder, in sections where the military and police were not stationed, but no open violence was attempted. In other directions, the bayonets of the soldiers would gleam out of the dense shadows, as they silently held the posts assigned them, ready to march at a moment's notice. This was the fourth night, and the cannon planted in the streets, and the increased military force, showed that peace was not yet fully restored. The Seventh Regiment was quartered in Thirty-fourth Street, part of the soldiers within a building, and crowding every window to catch the first sign of disturbance, and part stationed below, or marching back and forth in the street. Other troops and policemen were massed at head-quarters, ready to move, at the word of command, to any point threatened by the mob.

The fourth night was passing away, and still Acton clung to his post, and refused to take even a moment's rest. His whole nature had been keyed up to meet the grave responsibilities that lay upon him, and through the wires he still watched every threatened point in the city, with sleepless vigilance. In the meantime, over a thousand special policemen had been sworn in, and five hundred or more citizens had voluntered their services, while the steady arrival of returning regiments swelled the military force into formidable proportions.

During the day, Senators Connolly and O'Brien had waited on General Brown, and asked him to remove the military from their ward, as their presence excited the people. The General very bluntly refused, saying he should not permit his troops to retire from before an armed mob. He was asked also to order the troops to leave Jackson's foundry for the same reason, and gave an equally emphatic refusal. There was now to be no compromise with the rioters, no agreement entered into. They had got beyond the character of citizens with rights to be respected—they were assassins and murderers, to whom was submitted the simple question of subjection to law and authority, or death.

The fighting through the day had been severe, but the disturbance had not been so wide-spread and general. Outside of the city, there had been threatening rumors. It was reported that there was danger of an uprising in Westchester, where some leading Democrats had taken open opposition to the draft, and a gun-boat had gone up as far as Tarrytown; but nothing serious occurred.

The rioters being almost exclusively Irish, it was thought that an address from Archbishop Hughes would go far to quiet the ringleaders, and he had therefore issued the following call, already referred to:

To the men of New York, who are now called in many of the papers rioters.

MEN!

I am not able, owing to rheumatism in my limbs, to visit you, but that is not a reason why you should not pay me a visit in your whole strength. Come, then, tomorrow (Friday) at two o'clock, to my residence, north-west corner of Madison Avenue and Thirty-sixth street. There is abundant space for the meeting, around my house. I can address you from the corner of the balcony. If I should not be able to stand during its delivery, you will permit me to address you sitting; my voice is much stronger than my limbs. I take upon myself the responsibility of assuring you, that in paying me this visit or in retiring from it, you shall not be disturbed by any exhibition of municipal or military presence. You who are Catholics, or as many of you as are, have a right to visit your bishop without molestation.

JOHN HUGHES, Archbishop of New York.

NEW YORK, July 16, 1863.

A curious incident was related subsequently in one of the New York papers, respecting the manner in which an interview was brought about between him and Governor Seymour, and which resulted in the resolution of the Archbishop to address the rioters. The substance of the account was, that a young widow of high culture, formerly the wife of a well-known lawyer of this city—a woman living in an atmosphere of art, and refinement, and spending her time in study, became so excited over the violence and bloodshed that the authorities seemed unable to suppress, and finding that the Irish were at the bottom of the trouble, determined to appeal to Archbishop Hughes personally, to use his high authority and influence to bring these terrible scenes to a close.

Acting on this determination, she set out this morning for the Archbishop's residence, but on arriving was told that he was at the residence of Vicar-general Starrs, in Mulberry Street. Hastening thither, she asked for an interview. Her request was denied, when she repeated it; and though again refused, would not be repelled, and sent word that her business was urgent, and that she would not detain him ten minutes. The Archbishop finally consented to see her. As she entered the library, her manner and bearing—both said to be remarkably impressive—arrested the attention of the prelate. Without any explanation or apology, she told him at once her errand—that it was one of mercy and charity. She had been educated in a Roman Catholic convent herself, in which her father was a professor, and she urged him, in the name of God, to get on horseback, and go forth into the streets and quell the excitement of his flock. She told him he must, like Mark Antony, address the people; and in rescuing this great metropolis from vandalism, would become a second Constantine, an immortal hero. It was his duty, she boldly declared; and though she did not profess to be a Jeanne d'Arc or Madame Roland, but a plain woman of the present day, she would ride fearlessly by his side, and if he were threatened, would place her body between him and danger, and take the blow aimed at him. The cautious and crafty prelate was almost carried away by the impassioned and dramatic force of this woman, but he told her it would be presumption in him to do so; in fact, impossible, as he was so crippled with rheumatism and gout, that he could not walk. She then asked him to call the crowd, and address them from the balcony of his house. He replied that he was just then busy in writing an answer to an attack on him in the Tribune. She assured him that such a controversy was worse than useless—that another and higher duty rested on him. She pressed him with such importunity and enthusiasm, that he finally consented; but as a last effort to get rid of her, said he feared the military would interfere and attack the mob. She assured him they would not, and hurried off to the St. Nicholas to see Governor Seymour about it. She found the ante-room filled with officials and other personages on important business, waiting their turn to be admitted. But her determined, earnest manner so impressed every one with the importance of her mission, that precedence was granted her, and she found herself at once beside the astonished Governor. Without any preliminaries, she told him she had just come from the head of the church, and wanted his excellency to visit him immediately. No business was of such vital importance as this. The self-possessed Governor coolly replied that he should be glad to see the Archbishop, but business was too pressing to allow him to be absent even a half an hour from his duties. She hastened back to Archbishop Hughes, and prevailed on him to write a note to Governor Seymour, asking him to call and see him, as he was unable to get out. Fortified with this, she now took a priest with her, and providing herself with a carriage, returned to head-quarters, and absolutely forced, by her energy and determination and persuasive manner, the Governor to leave his business, and go to the Archbishop's. The invitation to the Irish to meet him was the result of this interview.

Why Archbishop Hughes took no more active part than he did in quelling this insurrection, when there was scarcely a man in it except members of his own flock, seems strange. It is true he had published an address to them, urging them to keep the peace; but it was prefaced by a long, undignified, and angry attack on Mr. Greeley, of the Tribune, and showed that he was in sympathy with the rioters, at least in their condemnation of the draft. The pretence that it would be unsafe for him to pass through the streets, is absurd; for on three different occasions common priests had mingled with the mob, not only with impunity, but with good effect. He could not, therefore, have thought himself to be in any great danger. One thing, at any rate, is evident: had an Irish mob threatened to burn down a Roman Catholic church, or a Roman Catholic orphan asylum, or threatened any of the institutions or property of the Roman Church, he would have shown no such backwardness or fear. The mob would have been confronted with the most terrible anathemas of the church, and those lawless bands quailed before the maledictions of the representative of "God's vicegerent on earth." It is unjust to suppose that he wished this plunder and robbery to continue, or desired to see Irishmen shot down in the streets; it must, therefore, be left to conjecture, why he could not be moved to any interference except by outside pressure, and then show so much lukewarmness in his manner—in fact, condemning their opponents almost as much as themselves.

The excitement consequent on the draft, exhibited in outbreaks in various parts of the country, and in the vicinity of New York, was increased by the reports of violence and fighting in the latter city. In Troy there was a riot, and the mob, imitating the insane conduct of the rioters in New York, proceeded to attack an African church. But a priest, more bold or more patriotic than Archbishop Hughes, interfered and saved it. That the latter, armed with nothing but the crucifix, could have effected as much as the police and military together, there can be but little doubt. This open and decided sympathy with law and order, and bitter anathemas against the vandals who sought the destruction of the city, were the more demanded, as such a large proportion of the police force were Roman Catholics, and in their noble devotion to duty, even to shooting down their own countrymen and men of a similar faith, deserved this encouragement from the head of the church.



CHAPTER XIX.

CLOSING SCENES.

Tranquil Morning.—Proclamation of the Mayor.—Mob cowed.—Plunderers afraid of Detection.—Dirty Cellars crowded with rich Apparel, Furniture, and Works of Art.—Archbishop Hughes' Address.—Useless Efforts.—Acton's Forty-eight Hours without Sleep over.—Change in Military Commanders in the City.—General Brown relinquishes his Command.—True Words.—Noble Character and Behavior of the Troops and Police.—General Brown's invaluable Services.

This week of horrors—a week unparalleled in the history of New York—was drawing to a close. It had been one of terror and dismay to the inhabitants, who thought only of the immediate effects on themselves of the triumph of the mob. A great city laid in ashes, given, up to robbers and cut-throats, is at any time a terrible spectacle; but New York in ruins at this time was a republic gone—a nation, uncrowned and left desolate; but the battle, both for the nation and city, had been nobly fought and won; and Friday, the fifth day of this protracted struggle, dawned bright and tranquil. The storm of the night before had passed away, and the streets, thoroughly washed by the drenching rain, stretched clean and quiet between the long rows of buildings, emblematic of the tranquillity that had returned to the city.

The cars were seen once more speeding down to the business centres, loaded with passengers. Broadway shook to the rumbling of the heavy omnibuses; shutters were taken down, and the windows again shone with their rich adornments. The anxious look had departed from the pedestrians, for the heavy cloud, so full of present woe and future forebodings, had lifted and passed away.

The following proclamation of Mayor Opdyke will show the true state of things on this morning, and what the people had most to fear:

"The riotous assemblages have been dispersed. Business is running in its usual channels. The various lines of omnibuses, railway, and telegraph have resumed their ordinary operations. Few symptoms of disorder remain, except in a small district in the eastern part of the city, comprising a part of the Eighteenth and Twenty-first Wards. The police is everywhere alert. A sufficient military force is now here to suppress any illegal movement, however formidable.

"Let me exhort you, therefore, to pursue your ordinary business. Avoid especially all crowds. Remain quietly at your homes, except when engaged in business, or assisting the authorities in some organized force. When the military appear in the street, do not gather about it, being sure that it is doing its duty in obedience to orders from superior authority. Your homes and your places of business you have a right to defend, and it is your duty to defend them, at all hazards. Yield to no intimidation, and to no demand for money as the price of your safety. If any person warns you to desist from your accustomed business, give no heed to the warning, but arrest him and bring him to the nearest station-house as a conspirator.

"Be assured that the public authorities have the ability and the will to protect you from those who have conspired alike against your peace, against the government of your choice, and against the laws which your representatives have enacted.

"GEORGE OPDYKE, Mayor."

Down-town there was scarcely anything to show that New York had for nearly a week been swept by one of the most frightful storms that ever desolated a city. Even in the disaffected districts, no crowds were assembled. In the corner groggeries, small groups of men might be seen, discussing the past, and uttering curses and threats; and ruined houses and battered walls and hanging blinds here and there arrested the eye, showing what wild work had been wrought; but it was evident that the struggle was over. The mob was thoroughly subdued, and the law-breakers now thought more of escaping future punishment than of further acts of violence. Bruised heads and battered forms were scattered through the low tenement-houses in every direction, which friends were anxious to keep concealed from the notice of the authorities. In dirty cellars and squalid apartments were piled away the richest stuffs—brocaded silks, cashmere shawls, elegant chairs, vases, bronzes, and articles of virtu, huddled promiscuously together, damning evidences of guilt, which were sure not to escape, in the end, the searching eye of the police, who had already begun to gather up the plunder. Thus the objects mostly coveted but a few hours ago now awakened the greatest solicitude and fear.

Even if the military under General Brown and the police had not shown the mob that they were its masters, the arrival of so many regiments, occupying all the infected districts, was overwhelming evidence that the day of lawless triumph was over, and that of retribution had come. Some acts of individual hostility were witnessed, but nothing more.

Archbishop Hughes had his meeting, and some five thousand assembled to hear him. They were on the whole a peaceable-looking crowd, and it was evidently composed chiefly, if not wholly, of those who had taken no part in the riot. None of the bloody heads and gashed faces, of which there were so many at that moment in the city, appeared. The address was well enough, but it came too late to be of any service. It might have saved many lives and much destruction, had it been delivered two days before, but now it was like the bombardment of a fortress after it had surrendered—a mere waste of ammunition. The fight was over, and to use his own not very refined illustration, he "spak' too late." The reports that came in to Acton from all the precincts convinced him of this, and he began to think of rest.

The strain was off, and overtasked nature made her demand, and he was compelled to yield to it. The tremendous work that had been laid upon him had been right nobly accomplished. Had he been a weak and vacillating man, the rioters would have acquired a headway that could not have been stopped, without a more terrible sacrifice of life and property—perhaps even of half the city. Comprehending intuitively the gravity of the situation, and the danger of procrastination or temporizing, he sprang at once for the enemy's throat, and never ceased his hold until he had strangled him to death. If he had waited to consult authorities about the legality of his action, or listened to the voice of pity, or yielded to the clamors of leading politicians or threats of enemies, both he and the city, in all human probability, would have been swept away in the hurricane of popular fury.

On this day a most remarkable announcement was published: that a sudden change had been made in the military command of the troops of the city and harbor. General Dix superseded General Wool, and Canby, General Brown. That Wool should have been removed at any time, might have been expected; not from incapacity, but on account of his age, and because any one could perform the mere nominal duties that devolved on him. But why General Brown should have been removed at this critical moment, when he and the Police Commissioners were performing their herculean task so faithfully and well, is not so plain; unless it was the result of one of those freaks of passion or despotic impulse, for which the Secretary of War was so ignobly distinguished. But unlike many other blunders which the War Department committed at this time, it did not result in any evil consequences, for the fight was over. But of this fact the Secretary of War was ignorant when he made out the order.

General Brown, in relinquishing his command, spoke warmly of the noble behavior of the troops during the riots, saying: "Engaged night and day in constant conflict with the mob, they have in some fifteen or twenty severe contests—in most of them outnumbered more than ten to one, many of the mob being armed—whipped and effectually dispersed them, and have been uniformly successful. In not a single instance has assistance been required by the police, when it has not been promptly rendered; and all property, public and private, which has been under their protection, has been perfectly and efficiently protected; and with pride he desires to record, that in this city, surrounded by grog-shops, but one single instance of drunkenness has fallen under his observation.

"To Lieutenant-colonel Frothingham, his able and efficient adjutant- general, he tenders his thanks for his untiring assistance.

"Having during the present insurrection been in immediate and constant co- operation with police department of this city, he desires the privilege of expressing his unbounded admiration of it. Never in civil or military life has he seen such untiring devotion and such efficient service.

"To President Acton and Commissioner Bergen he offers his thanks for their courtesy to him and their kindness to his command.

"HARVEY BROWN, Brigadier-general."

The praise he bestows both on the police and soldiers was richly deserved; and he may well say that "with pride he desires to record that in this city, surrounded with grog-shops, but one single instance of drunkenness has fallen under his observation." With all a soldier's tendency to indulge in spirituous liquor, to be thrown right amid drinking-places, which by harboring rioters had lost all claim to protection—part of the time suffering from want of food, and often drenched to the skin, and weary from hard fighting and want of sleep—not to step away occasionally in the confusion and darkness of night, and solace himself with stimulating drinks, was something marvellous. After hard fighting, and long marching, and short rations, a soldier feels he has a right to indulge in liquor, if he can get it; and their abstinence from it in such lawless times, not only speaks well for their discipline, but their character. A single instance shows under what perfect control the troops were. One day Colonel Ladue, seeing that his men were exhausted and hungry, desired to let them have a little beer to refresh them, and the following telegram was sent from the precinct where they were on duty:

"5.45 P.M. From 9th. Colonel Ladue wishes his men allowed to have beer in station-house."

Answer. "Mr. Acton says he is opposed to beer, but the colonel can give his men as much as he pleases."

"Acton is opposed to beer," but the troops are not under his command, and he has no heart to deny the poor fellows the station-house in which to refresh themselves after their hard day's work. This incident also shows the strict discipline maintained in the police department.

General Brown had done a noble work. Taking his place beside the Police Commissioners, he bent all his energies to the single task of carrying out their plans, and save the city from the hands of the rioters. He never thought what deference might be due him on the score of etiquette, or on account of his military rank; he thought only of putting down the mob at all hazards. His refusal, at first, to serve under General Sandford was not merely that it was an improper thing to place a general of the regular army under the orders of a mere militia general, [Footnote: Because he was especially assigned to the command of the city by the Secretary of War.] having no rank whatever in the United States army, but he knew it would paralyze his influence, and in all human probability result in the useless sacrifice of his troops. The absurdity of not moving until he received orders from his superior officer, cooped up in the arsenal, where he remained practically in a state of siege, was so apparent that he refused to countenance it. He was willing that President Acton should be his superior officer, and give his orders, and he would carry them out; for thus he could act efficiently and make his disciplined battalion tell in the struggle; but for the sake of his own reputation and that of his troops, he would not consent to hold a position that would only bring disgrace on both. His views are clearly expressed in his reply to a highly complimentary letter addressed to him by the mayor and a large number of prominent citizens, for the signal services he had rendered. He says: "I never for a moment forgot that to the police was confided the conservation of the peace of the city; and that only in conjunction with the city authorities, and on their requisition, could the United States forces be lawfully and properly employed in suppressing the riot, and in restoring that peace and good order which had been so lawlessly broken. Acting in accordance with this principle, and as aids to the gallant city police, the officers and soldiers of my command performed the most unpleasant and arduous duty, with that prompt energy and fearless patriotism which may ever be expected from the soldiers of the Republic."



CHAPTER XX.

Continued Tranquillity.—Strange Assortment of Plunder gathered in the Cellars and Shanties of the Rioters.—Search for it exasperates the Irish.—Noble Conduct of the Sanitary Police.—Sergeant Copeland.— Prisoners tried.—Damages claimed from the City.—Number of Police killed.—Twelve hundred Rioters killed.—The Riot Relief Fund.—List of Colored People killed.—Generals Wool and Sandford's Reports.—Their Truthfulness denied.—General Brown vindicated.

On Saturday morning it was announced that the authorities at Washington had resolved to enforce the draft. It had been repeatedly asserted during the riot that it was abandoned, and the report received very general credence. Still, the official denial of it produced no disturbance. The spirit of insurrection was effectually laid.

It is a little singular, that, in all these tremendous gatherings and movements, no prominent recognized leaders could be found. A man by the name of Andrews had been arrested and imprisoned as one, but the charge rested wholly on some exciting harangues he had made, not from any active leadership he had assumed.

There were, perhaps, in the city this morning not far from ten thousand troops—quite enough to preserve the peace, if the riot should break out afresh; and orders therefore were given to arrest the march of regiments hastening from various sections to the city, under the requisition of the Governor. Still, the terror that had taken possession of men could not be allayed in an hour, and although the police had resumed their patrols, and dared to be seen alone in the streets, there was constant dread of personal violence among the citizens. Especially was this true of the negro population. Although many sought their ruined homes, yet aware of the intense hatred entertained toward them by the mob, they felt unsafe, and began to organize in self-defence. But the day wore away without disturbance, and the Sabbath dawned peaceably, and order reigned from the Battery to Harlem. The military did not show themselves in the street, and thousands thronged without fear the avenues in which the fighting had taken place, to look at the ruins it had left behind. On Monday there was more or less rebellious feeling exhibited by the rioters, on account of the general search of the police for stolen goods, and the arrest of suspected persons. It exhibited itself, however, only in threats and curses—not a policemen was assaulted. It was amusing, sometimes, to see what strange articles the poor wretches had stowed away in their dirty cellars. There was everything from barrels of sugar and starch to tobacco and bird-seed. Said a morning paper: "Mahogany and rosewood chairs with brocade upholstering, marble-top tables and stands, costly paintings, and hundreds of delicate and valuable mantel ornaments, are daily found in low hovels up-town. Every person in whose possession these articles are discovered disclaims all knowledge of the same, except that they found them in the street, and took them in to prevent them being burned. The entire city will be searched, and it is expected that the greatest portion of the property taken from the buildings sacked by the mob will be recovered." The rivers and outlets to the city were closely watched, to prevent its being carried off. In the meantime, arrests were constantly made.

It would be invidious to single out any portion of the police for special commendation, where all did their duty so nobly; but it is not improper to speak of the sanitary police, whose specific duties do not lead them to take part in quelling mobs.

They have to report all nuisances, examine tenement-houses and unsafe buildings, look after the public schools, but more especially examine steam-boilers, and license persons qualified to run steam-engines. Hence, it is composed of men of considerable scientific knowledge. But all such business being suspended during the riot, they at once, with their Captain, B. G. Lord, assumed the duties of the common policemen, and from Monday night till order was restored, were on constant duty, participating in the fights, and enduring the fatigues with unflinching firmness, and did not return to their regular duties till Monday morning.

The drill-officer also, Sergeant T. S. Copeland, became, instead of a drill-officer, a gallant, active leader of his men in some of the most desperate fights that occurred. His military knowledge enabled him to form commands ordered hastily off, with great despatch. But not content with this, he led them, when formed, to the charge, and gave such lessons in drill, in the midst of the fight, as the police will never forget.

With the details of what followed we have nothing to do. The Grand Jury indicted many of the prisoners, and in the term of the court that met the 3d of August, twenty were tried and nineteen convicted, and sentenced to a longer or shorter term of imprisonment. Of course a large number on preliminary examinations got off, sometimes from want of sufficient evidence, and sometimes from the venality of the judges before whom they were brought. Claims for damages were brought in, the examination of which was long and tedious. The details are published in two large volumes, and the entire cost to the city was probably three millions of dollars. Some of the claims went before the courts, where they lingered along indefinitely. The number of rioters killed, or died from the effects of their wounds, was put down by the Police Commissioners at about twelve hundred. Of course this estimate is not made up from any detailed reports. The dead and wounded were hurried away, even in the midst of the fight, and hidden in obscure streets, or taken out of the city for fear of future arrests or complications. Hence there was no direct way of getting at the exact number of those who fell victims to the riot. The loss of life, therefore, could only be approximated by taking the regular report of the number of deaths in the city for a few weeks before the riots, and that for the same length of time after. As there was no epidemic, or any report of increased sickness from any disease, the inference naturally was, that the excess for the period after the riots was owing to the victims of them. Many of these were reported as sunstrokes, owing to men exposing themselves to the sun with pounded and battered heads. The Police Commissioners took great care to keep all the wounded policemen indoors until perfectly cured. Only one ventured to neglect their orders, and he died of a sunstroke.

The difference of mortality in the city for the month previous to the riots, and the month during and subsequent, was about twelve hundred, which excess Mr. Acton thought should be put down to the deaths caused directly and indirectly by the riots. Although many policemen were wounded, only three were killed or died from the injuries they received.

Immediately after the riot, Mr. Leonard W. Jerome and others interested themselves in raising a fund for the relief of members of the Police, Militia, and Fire Departments who had sustained injuries in the discharge of their duty in suppressing the riots. Subscriptions to the amount of $54,980 were paid in, and $22,721.53 distributed by the Trustees of the Riot Relief Fund, in sums from $50 to $1,000, each, through Isaac Bell, Treasurer, to 101 policemen, 16 militiamen, and 7 firemen.

The balance was securely invested, to meet future emergencies, a portion of which was paid to sufferers by the Orange Riot of 1871.

The following is the list of colored people known to be killed by the mob, together with the circumstances attending their murder, as given by David Barnes, in his Metropolitan record, to which reference has heretofore been made.

COLORED VICTIMS OF THE RIOT.

WILLIAM HENRY NICHOLS (colored). Nichols resided at No. 147 East Twenty- eighth Street. Mrs. Staat, his mother, was visiting him. On Wednesday, July 15th, at 3 o'clock, the house was attacked by a mob with showers of bricks and stones. In one of the rooms was a woman with a child but three days old. The rioters broke open the door with axes and rushed in. Nichols and his mother fled to the basement; in a few moments the babe referred to was dashed by the rioters from the upper window to the yard, and instantly killed. The mob cut the waterpipes above, and the basement was being deluged; ten persons, mostly women and children, were there, and they fled to the yard; in attempting to climb the fence, Mrs. Staat fell back from exhaustion; the rioters were instantly upon her; her son sprang to her rescue, exclaiming, "Save my mother, if you kill me." Two ruffians instantly seized him, each taking hold of an arm, while a third, armed with a crowbar, calling upon them to hold his arms apart, deliberately struck him a savage blow on the head, felling him like a bullock. He died in the N. Y. Hospital two days after.

JAMES COSTELLO (colored).—James Costello, No. 97 West Thirty-third Street, killed on Tuesday morning, July 14th. Costello was a shoemaker, an active man in his business, industrious and sober. He went out early in the morning upon an errand, was accosted, and finally was pursued by a powerful man. He ran down the street; endeavored to make his escape; was nearly overtaken by his pursuer; in self-defence he turned and shot the rioter with a revolver. The shot proved to be mortal; he died two days after. Costello was immediately set upon by the mob. They first mangled his body, then hanged it. They then cut down his body and dragged it through the gutters, smashing it with stones, and finally burnt it. The mob then attempted to kill Mrs. Costello and her children, but she escaped by climbing fences and taking refuge in a police station-house.

ABRAHAM FRANKLIN (colored).—This young man, who was murdered by the mob on the corner of Twenty-seventh Street and Seventh Avenue, was a quiet, inoffensive man, of unexceptionable character. He was a cripple, but supported himself and his mother, being employed as a coachman. A short time previous to the assault, he called upon his mother to see if anything could be done by him for her safety. The old lady said she considered herself perfectly safe; but if her time to die had come, she was ready to die. Her son then knelt down by her side, and implored the protection of Heaven in behalf of his mother. The old lady said that it seemed to her that good angels were present in the room. Scarcely had the supplicant risen from his knees, when the mob broke down the door, seized him, beat him over the head and face with fists and clubs, and then hanged him in the presence of his parent. While they were thus engaged, the military came and drove them away, cutting down the body of Franklin, who raised his arm once slightly and gave a few signs of life. The military then moved on to quell other riots, when the mob returned and again suspended the now probably lifeless body of Franklin, cutting out pieces of flesh, and otherwise shockingly mutilating it.

AUGUSTUS STUART (colored).—Died at Hospital, Blackwell's Island, July 22, from the effects of a blow received at the hands of the mob, on Wednesday evening of the Riot Week. He had been badly beaten previously by a band of rioters, and was frightened and insane from the effects of the blows which he had received. He was running toward the arsenal (State), Seventh Avenue and Thirty-seventh Street, for safety, when he was overtaken by the mob, from whom he received his death-blow.

PETER HEUSTON.—Peter Heuston, sixty-three years of age, a Mohawk Indian, dark complexion, but straight hair, and for several years a resident of New York, proved a victim to the riots. Heuston served with the New York Volunteers in the Mexican war. He was brutally attacked and shockingly beaten, on the 13th of July, by a gang of ruffians, who thought him to be of the African race because of his dark complexion. He died within four days, at Bellevue Hospital, from his injuries.

JEREMIAH ROBINSON (colored).—He was killed in Madison near Catharine Street. His widow stated that her husband, in order to escape, dressed himself in some of her clothes, and, in company with herself and one other woman, left their residence and went toward one of the Brooklyn ferries. Robinson wore a hood, which failed to hide his beard. Some boys, seeing his beard, lifted up the skirts of his dress, which exposed his heavy boots. Immediately the mob set upon him, and the atrocities they perpetrated are so revolting that they are unfit for publication. They finally killed him and threw his body into the river. His wife and her companion ran up Madison Street, and escaped across the Grand Street Ferry to Brooklyn.

WILLIAM JONES (colored).—A crowd of rioters in Clarkson Street, in pursuit of a negro, who in self-defence had fired on some rowdies, met an inoffensive colored man returning from a bakery with a loaf of bread under his arm. They instantly set upon and beat him and, after nearly killing him, hung him to a lamppost. His body was left suspended for several hours. A fire was made underneath him, and he was literally roasted as he hung, the mob revelling in their demoniac act. Recognition of the remains, on their being recovered, was impossible; and two women, mourned for upwards of two weeks, in the case of this man, for the loss of their husbands. At the end of that time, the husband of one of the mourners, to her great joy, returned like one recovered from the grave. The principal evidence which the widow, Mary Jones, had to identify the murdered man as her husband, was the fact of his having a loaf of bread under his arm, he having left the house to get a loaf of bread a few minutes before the attack.

JOSEPH REED (colored).—This was a lad of seven years of age, residing at No. 147 East Twenty-eighth Street, with an aged grandmother and widowed mother. On Wednesday morning of the fearful week, a crowd of ruffians gathered in the neighborhood, determined on a week of plunder and death. They attacked the house, stole everything they could carry with them, and, after threatening the inmates, set fire to it. The colored people who had the sole occupancy of the building, fled in confusion into the midst of the gathering crowd. And then the child was separated from his guardians. His youth and evident illness, even from the devils around him, it would be thought, should have insured his safety. But no sooner did they see his unprotected, defenceless condition, than a gang of fiendish men seized him, beat him with sticks, and bruised him with heavy cobblestones. But one, tenfold more the servant of Satan than the rest, rushed at the child, and with the stock of a pistol struck him on the temple and felled him to the ground. A noble young fireman, by the name of John F. Govern, of No. 39 Hose Company, instantly came to the rescue, and, single-handed, held the crowd at bay. Taking the wounded and unconscious boy in his arms, he carried him to a place of safety. The terrible beating and the great fright the poor lad had undergone was too much for his feeble frame; he died on the following Tuesday.

JOSEPH JACKSON (colored), aged nineteen years, living in West Fifty-third Street, near Sixth Avenue, was in the industrious pursuit of his humble occupation of gathering provender for a herd of cattle, and when near the foot of Thirty-fourth Street, East River, July 15, was set upon by the mob, killed, and his body thrown into the river.

SAMUEL JOHNSON (colored).—On Tuesday night Johnson was attacked near Fulton Ferry by a gang who mercilessly beat and left him for dead. A proposition was made to throw him into the river, but for some reason the murderers took fright and fled. He was taken by some citizens to his home, and died the next day.

—— WILLIAMS (colored).—He was attacked on the corner of Le Roy and Washington Streets, on Tuesday morning, July 14th, knocked down, a number of men jumped upon, kicked, and stamped upon him until insensible. One of the murderers knelt on the body and drove a knife into it; the blade being too small, he threw it away and resorted to his fists. Another seized a huge stone, weighing near twenty pounds, and deliberately crushed it again and again on to the victim. A force of police, under Captain Dickson, arrived and rescued the man, who was conveyed to the New York Hospital. He was only able to articulate "Williams" in response to a question as to his name, and remained insensible thereafter, dying in a few days.

ANN DERRICKSON.—This was a white woman, the wife of a colored man, and lived at No. 11 York Street. On Wednesday, July 15th, the rioters seized a son of deceased, a lad of about twelve years, saturated his clothes and hair with camphene, and then procuring a rope, fastened one end to a lamp- post, the other around his neck, and were about to set him on fire, and hang him; they were interfered with by some citizens and by the police of the First Ward, and their diabolical attempt at murder frustrated. While Mrs. Derrickson was attempting to save the life of her son she was horribly bruised and beaten, with a cart-rung. The victim, after lingering three or four weeks, died from the effects of her injuries.

Reports from the captains of the several precincts, with all the details of their operations, were made out—also from the subordinate military officers to their immediate superiors. The final reports of General Wool, commanding the Eastern Department, and Major-general Sandford, commanding the city troops, caused much remark in the city papers, and called forth a reply from General Brown, who considered himself unjustly assailed in them. Explanation of the disagreement between him and General Wool having been fully given, it is not necessary to repeat it here. The same may be said of the statement of General Wool, regarding his orders on Monday the 13th, respecting the troops in the harbor. But in this report of General Wool to Governor Seymour, there are other statements which General Brown felt it his duty to correct. General Wool says, that finding there was a want of harmony between Generals Sandford and Brown in the disposition of troops, he issued the following order:

MAJOR-GENERAL SANDFORD, BREVET BRIGADIER-GENERAL BROWN.

GENTLEMEN:—It is indispensable to collect your troops not stationed, and have them divided into suitable parties, with a due proportion of police to each, and to patrol in such parts of the city as may be in the greatest danger from the rioters. This ought to be done as soon as practicable.

JOHN E. WOOL, Major-general.

After this had been issued, General Sandford reporting to me that his orders were not obeyed by General Brown, I issued the following order:

"All the troops called out for the protection of the city are placed under the command of General Sandford."

General Brown in his reply says, that he "never saw or heard of this first order." The only explanation of this, consistent with the character of both, is that General Wool sent this order to General Sandford alone—either forgetting to transmit it to General Brown, or expecting General Sandford to do it.

At all events, sent or not, it was a foolish order. One would infer from it that the whole task of putting down the riots belonged to the military, the commanders of which were to order out what co-operating force of police they deemed necessary and march up and down the disaffected districts, trampling out the lawlessness according to rule. This might be all well enough, but the question was, how were these troops, strangers to the city, to find out where "such parts of the city" were in which was "the greatest danger from the rioters?" It showed a lamentable ignorance of mobs; they don't stay in one spot and fight it out, nor keep in one mass, nor give notice beforehand where they will strike next. Such knowledge could only be obtained from police head-quarters, the focus of the telegraph system, and there the troops should have been ordered to concentrate at once, and put themselves under the direction of the Police Commissioners. Again, General Wool says he issued the following order to General Brown, on Tuesday:

"SIR:—It is reported that the rioters have already recommenced their work of destruction. To-day there must be no child's play. Some of the troops under your command should be sent immediately to attack and stop those who have commenced their infernal rascality in Yorkville and Harlem."

This order, too, General Brown says he never received. Thinking it strange, he addressed a note to General Wool's assistant adjutant-general, respecting both these orders, which had thus strangely wandered out of the way. The latter, Major Christensen, replied as follows:

"The orders of General Wool published in his report to Governor Seymour, viz.: 'That patrols of military and police should be sent through the disaffected districts;' and the one July 14th, 'To-day there must be no child's play,' etc., were not issued by me, and I cannot therefore say whether copies were sent to you or not. They were certainly not sent by me.

"C.F. CHRISTENSEN,

"Major, Assistant Adjutant-general."

We have explained how the error may have occurred with regard to the first order. But there is no explanation of this, except on the ground that General Wool perhaps sketched out this order, without sending it, and afterwards seeing it amid his papers, thought it was a copy of one he had sent. He was well advanced in years, and might easily fall into some such error.

It is not necessary to go into detailed account of all the statements contained in General Wool's letter which General Brown emphatically denies; but the following is worthy of notice. He says that General Brown issued orders that General Sandford countermanded, and that General Brown acted through the riots under his (Wool's) orders; whereas the latter says, he never received but three orders from Wool during the whole time, and only one of those referred to any action towards the rioters, and that was to bring off some killed and wounded men left by a military force sent out either by Sandford or Wool, and which had been chased from the field by the mob.

But the statements of General Wool are entirely thrown into the shade by the following assertion of General Sandford, in his report. He says: "With the remnant of the [his] division (left in the city), and the first reinforcements from General Wool, detachments were sent to all parts of the city, and the rioters everywhere beaten and dispersed on Monday afternoon, Monday night, and Tuesday morning. In a few hours, but for the interference of Brigadier-general Brown, who, in disobedience of orders," etc.

The perfect gravity with which this assertion is made is something marvellous. One would infer that the police was of no account, except to maintain order after it was fully restored by the military on Tuesday morning. General Sandford might well be ignorant of the state of things in the city, for he was cooped up in the arsenal, intent only on holding his fortress. So far as he was concerned, the whole city might have been burned up before Tuesday noon, and he would scarcely have known it, except as he saw the smoke and flames from the roof of the arsenal. He never sent out a detachment until after the Tuesday afternoon, when, as he says, but for General Brown's action, the riot would have been virtually over. The simple truth is, these reports of Generals Wool and Sandford are both mere after-thoughts, growing out of the annoyance they felt on knowing that their martinetism was a total failure, and the whole work had been done by General Brown and the Police Commissioners from their head- quarters in Mulberry Street. Acton and Brown had no time to grumble or dispute about etiquette. They had something more serious on hand, and they bent their entire energies to their accomplishment. General Sandford held the arsenal, an important point, indeed a vital one, and let him claim and receive all the credit due that achievement; but to assume any special merit in quelling the riots in the streets is simply ridiculous. That was the work of the police and the military under the commissioners and General Brown.

The statement of the Police Commissioners, Acton and Bergen, on this point is conclusive. They say that General Sandford's error consisted in "not choosing to be in close communication with this department, when alone through the police telegraph, and other certain means, trustworthy information of the movements of the mob could be promptly had."

That single statement is enough to overthrow all of General Sandford's assertions about the riot. It was hardly necessary for them to declare further in their letter to General Brown:

"So far from your action having had the effect supposed by General Sandford, we are of the opinion, already expressed in our address to the police force, that through your prompt, vigorous, and intelligent action, the intrepidity and steady valor of the small military force under you, acting with the police force, the riotous proceedings were arrested on Thursday night, and that without such aid mob violence would have continued much longer."

WELL-EARNED PRAISE.

On the week after the riot the Board of Police Commissioners issued the following address to the force, in which a well-earned tribute is paid to the military:

To the Metropolitan Police Force.

On the morning of Monday, the 13th inst., the peace and good order of the city were broken by a mob collected in several quarters of the city, for the avowed purpose of resisting the process of drafting names to recruit the armies of the Union.

Vast crowds of men collected and fired the offices where drafting was in progress, beating and driving the officers from duty.

From the beginning, these violent proceedings were accompanied by arson, robbery, and murder.

Private property, unofficial persons of all ages, sexes, and conditions, were indiscriminately assailed—none were spared, except those who were supposed by the mob to sympathize with their proceedings.

Early in the day the Superintendent was assaulted, cruelly beaten, robbed, and disabled by the mob which was engaged in burning the provost marshal's office in Third Avenue, thus in a manner disarranging the organization at the Central Department, throwing new, unwonted, and responsible duties upon the Board.

At this juncture the telegraph wires of the department were cut, and the movement of the railroads and stages violently interrupted, interfering seriously with our accustomed means of transmitting orders and concentrating forces.

The militia of the city were absent at the seat of war, fighting the battles of the nation against treason and secession, and there was no adequate force in the city for the first twelve hours to resist at all points the vast and infuriated mob. The police force was not strong enough in any precinct to make head, unaided, against the overwhelming force. No course was left but to concentrate the whole force at the Central Department, and thence send detachments able to encounter and conquer the rioters. This course was promptly adopted on Monday morning. The military were called upon to act in aid of the civil force to subdue the treasonable mob, protect life and property, and restore public order.

Under such, adverse circumstances you were called upon to encounter a mob of such strength as have never before been seen, in this country. The force of militia under General Sandford, who were called into service by the authority of this Board, were concentrated by him at and held the arsenal in Seventh Avenue, throughout the contest. The military forces in command of Brevet Brigadier-general Harvey Brown reported at the Central Department, and there General Brown established his head-quarters, and from there expeditions, combined of police and military force, were sent out that in all cases conquered, defeated, or dispersed the mob force, and subjected them to severe chastisement. In no instance did these detachments from the Central Department, whether of police alone or police and military combined, meet with defeat or serious check.

In all cases they achieved prompt and decisive victories. The contest continued through Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and till 11 o'clock on Thursday night, like a continuous battle, when it ended by a total and sanguinary rout of the insurgents.

During the whole of those anxious days and nights, Brigadier-general Brown remained at the Central Department, ordering the movements of the military in carefully considered combinations with the police force, and throughout the struggle, and until its close, commanded the admiration and gratitude of the Police Department and all who witnessed his firm intelligence and soldierly conduct.

It is understood that he had at no time under his immediate command more than three hundred troops, but they were of the highest order, and were commanded by officers of courage and ability. They cordially acted with, supported, and were supported by, the police, and victory in every contest against fearful odds, was the result of brave fighting and intelligent command.

In the judgment of this Board, the escape of the city from the power of an infuriated mob is due to the aid furnished the police by Brigadier-general Brown and the small military force under his command. No one can doubt, who saw him, as we did, that during those anxious and eventful days and nights Brigadier-general Harvey Brown was equal to the situation, and was the right man in the right place.

We avail ourselves of this occasion to tender to him, in the most earnest and public manner, the thanks of the department and our own.

To the soldiers under his command we are grateful as to brave men who perilled all to save the city from a reign of terror. To Captains Putnam, Franklin, and Shelley, Lieutenant Ryer, and Lieutenant-colonel Berens, officers of corps under the command of Brigadier-general Brown, we are especially indebted, and we only discharge a duty when we commend them to their superiors in rank and to the War Department for their courageous and effective service.

Of the Inspectors, Captains, and Sergeants of police who led parties in the fearful contest, we are proud to say that none faltered or failed. Each was equal to the hour and the emergency. Not one failed to overcome the danger, however imminent, or to defeat the enemy, however numerous. Especial commendation is due to Drill-sergeant Copeland for his most valuable aid in commanding the movements of larger detachments of the police.

The patrolmen who were on duty fought through the numerous and fierce conflicts with the steady courage of veteran soldiers, and have won, as they deserve, the highest commendations from the public and from this Board. In their ranks there was neither faltering nor straggling. Devotion to duty and courage in the performance of it were universal.

The public and the department owe a debt of gratitude to the citizens who voluntarily became special patrolmen, some three thousand of whom, for several days and nights, did regular patrolmen's duty with great effect.

In the name of the public, and of the department in which they were volunteers, we thank them.

Mr. Crowley, the superintendent of the police telegraph, and the attaches of his department, by untiring and sleepless vigilance in transmitting information by telegraph unceasingly through more than ten days and nights, have more than sustained the high reputation they have always possessed.

Through all these bloody contests, through all the wearing fatigue and wasting labor, you have demeaned yourselves like worthy members of the Metropolitan Police.

The public judgment will commend and reward you. A kind Providence has permitted you to escape with less casualties than could have been expected. You have lost one comrade, whom you have buried with honor. Your wounded will, it is hoped, all recover, to join you and share honor. It is hoped that the severe but just chastisement which has been inflicted upon those guilty of riot, pillage, arson, and murder, will deter further attempts of that character. But if, arising out of political or other causes, there should be another attempt to interrupt public order, we shall call on you again to crush its authors, confident that you will respond like brave men, as you ever have, to the calls of duty; and in future, whenever the attempt may be made, you will have to aid you large forces of military, ably commanded, and thus be enabled to crush in the bud any attempted riot or revolution.

To General Canby, who, on the morning of Friday, the 17th inst., took command of the military, relieving Brigadier-general Brown, and to Gen. Dix, who succeeded General Wool, the public are indebted for prompt, vigorous, and willing aid to the police force in all the expeditions which have been called for since they assumed their commands. Charged particularly with the protection of the immense amount of Federal property and interests in the Metropolitan district, and the police force charged with the maintenance of public order, the duties of the two forces are always coincident.

Whatever menaces or disturbs one equally menaces and disturbs the other.

We are happy to know that at all times the several authorities have co- operated with that concert and harmony which is necessary to secure vigor and efficiency in action.

Sergeant Young, of the detective force, aided by Mr. Newcomb and other special patrolmen, rendered most effective service in arranging the commissary supplies for the large number of police, military, special patrolmen, and destitute colored refugees, whose subsistence was thrown unexpectedly on the department. The duty was arduous and responsible, and was performed with vigor and fidelity. All the clerks of the department, each in his sphere, performed a manly share of the heavy duties growing out of these extraordinary circumstances. The Central Department became a home of refuge for large numbers of poor, persecuted colored men, women, and children, many of whom were wounded and sick, and all of whom were helpless, exposed, and poor. Mr. John H. Keyser, with his accustomed philanthropy, volunteered, and was appointed to superintend these wretched victims of violence and prejudice, and has devoted unwearied days to the duty. The pitiable condition of these poor people appeals in the strongest terms to the Christian charity of the benevolent and humane. The members of the force will do an acceptable service by calling the attention to their condition of those who are able and willing to contribute in charity to their relief.



CHAPTER XXI.

ORANGE RIOTS OF 1870 AND 1871.

Religious Toleration.—Irish Feuds.—Battle of Boyne Water.—Orangemen.— Origin and Object of the Society.—A Picnic at Elm Park.—Attacked by the Ribbonmen.—The Fight.—After Scenes.—Riot of 1871.—Conspiracy of the Irish Catholics to prevent a Parade of Orangemen.—Forbidden by the City Authorities.—Indignation of the People.—Meeting in the Produce Exchange.—Governor Hoffman's Proclamation.—Morning of the 12th.—The Orangemen at Lamartine Hall.—Attack on the Armories.—The Harpers threatened.—Exciting Scenes around Lamartine Hall and at Police Head- quarters.—Hibernia Hall cleared.—Attack on an Armory.—Formation of the Procession.—Its March.—Attacked.—Firing of the Military without Orders.—Terrific Scene.—The Hospitals and Morgue.—Night Scenes.—Number of killed and wounded.—The Lesson.

In a free country like ours, where toleration of all religions alike is one of the fundamental principles of the Government, one would naturally think that open persecution of any sect or body of religionists was impossible. But the Irish, unfortunately, have brought with them to this country not merely many of their old customs and national fetes, but their old religions feuds.

Nearly two hundred years ago, William of Nassau, Prince of Orange, or William the Third, a Protestant, met the Catholic King, James the Second, of England, In deadly battle, in the vales of Meath, through which the Boyne River flows, and utterly routed him, and compelled him to flee to the Continent for safety. According to old style, this was on the first day of July, as the old ballad says:

"'Twas bright July's first morning clear, Of unforgotten glory, That made this stream, through ages dear, Renowned in song and story."

According to new style, however, this has become the twelfth of the month. The Ulster Protestant Society, known as Orangemen, was founded in 1795. It was a secret political organization, founded, it is said, to counteract the Ribbonmen, or Protectors, as they were called. Its object in this country, it is asserted, is entirely different, and more in harmony with other societies that have their annual celebration in New York City and other places.

It is not necessary to go over the bitter feuds between these and the Catholic Irish in the old country. The hates they engendered were brought here, but kept from any great outward manifestation, because the Orangemen indulged in no public displays. We believe that there had been only one procession previous to this. In this year, however, an imposing display was resolved upon, but no trouble was anticipated, and no precautions taken by the police. It was not proposed to parade the streets, but to form, and march in procession up Eighth Avenue, to Elm Park, corner of Ninetieth Street and Eighth Avenue, and have a picnic, and wind up with a dance. As the procession passed Fourth Street, in full Orange regalia, and about twenty-five hundred strong (men, women, and children), playing "Boyne Water," "Derry," and other tunes obnoxious to the Catholics, some two hundred Irishmen followed it with curses and threats.

Violence was, however, not feared, and the procession continued on, and at length reached the new Boulevard road, where a large body of Irishmen were at work. Beyond, however, the interchange of some words, nothing transpired, and it entered the park, and began the festivities of the day.

In the meanwhile, however, the rabble that had followed them came upon the Ribbonmen at work on the Boulevard road, and persuaded them to throw up work and join them, and the whole crowd, numbering probably about five hundred, started for the park. The foreman of the gang of three hundred workmen saw at once the danger, and hurried to the Thirty-first Precinct station, corner of One Hundredth Street and Ninth Avenue, and told Captain Helme of the state of things.

The latter immediately thought of the picnic, and, anticipating trouble, telegraphed to Jourdan for reinforcements. In the meanwhile, the mob, loaded with stones, advanced tumultuously towards the park, within which the unsuspecting Orangemen were giving themselves up to enjoyment. Suddenly a shower of stones fell among them, knocking over women and children, and sending consternation through the crowd. Shouts and curses followed, and the Orangemen, rallying, rushed out and fell furiously on their assailants. Shovels, clubs, and stones were freely used, and a scene of terrific confusion followed. The fight was close and bloody, and continued for nearly half an hour, when Sergeant John Kelly, with a force of sixteen men, arrived, and rushing in between the combatants, separated them, and drove the Orangemen back into the park. The mob then divided into two portions, of between two and three hundred each. One party went by way of Ninth Avenue, and, breaking down the fence on that side, entered the park, and fell with brutal fury on men, women, and children alike. A terrible fight followed, and amid the shouts and oaths of the men and screams of the women and children, occasional pistol-shots were heard, showing that murder was being done. The enraged, unarmed Orangemen, wrenched hand rails from the fence, tore up small trees, and seized anything and everything that would serve for a weapon, and maintained the fight for a half an hour, before the police arrived. The second portion went by Eighth Avenue, and intercepted a large body of Orangemen that had retreated from the woods, and a desperate battle followed. There were only two policemen here, and of course could do nothing but stand and look on the murderous conflict. In the meantime, the force telegraphed for by Captain. Helme arrived. It consisted of twenty men, to which Captain Helme added the reserve force, with a sergeant from the Eighth, Ninth, Fifteenth, Sixteenth, and Nineteenth Precincts, making in all some fifty men. These he divided into two portions, one of which he sent over to Eighth Avenue to protect the cars, into which the fugitives were crowding, while the other dashed furiously into the park, and fell on the combatants with their clubs. They soon cleared a lane between them, when turning on the Ribbonmen, they drove them out of the park. They then formed the Orangemen into a procession, and escorted them down the city. A portion, however, had fled for the Eighth Avenue cars; but a party of Ribbonmen were lying in wait here, and another fight followed. Huge stones were thrown through the windows of the cars, the sides broken in, over the wreck of which the mob rushed, knocking down men, women, and children alike, whose shouts, and oaths, and screams could be heard blocks off. The scene was terrific, until the arrival of the police put an end to it, and bore the dead and wounded away.

About seven o'clock, Superintendent Jourdan arrived in the precinct, accompanied by Inspectors Dilks and Walling, and Detectives Farley and Avery. In the basement of the Thirty-first Precinct station, on a low trestle bed, three bloody corpses were stretched, while the neighboring precincts were filled with the wounded. Two more died before morning. The street near each station was crowded with Orangemen inquiring after friends.

Although no more outbreaks occurred, the most intense excitement prevailed among the Irish population of the city, and it was evident that it needed only a suitable occasion to bring on another conflict.

THE RIOT OF 1871.

When the next anniversary of the Orangemen came round, it was discovered that a conspiracy had been formed by a large body of the Catholic population to prevent its public celebration. The air was full of rumors, while the city authorities were in possession of the fullest evidence that if the Orangemen paraded, they would be attacked, and probably many lives be lost. They were in great dilemma as to what course to pursue. If they allowed the procession to take place, they would be compelled to protect it, and shoot down the men whose votes helped largely to place them in power. If they forbade it, they feared the public indignation that would be aroused against such a truckling, unjust course. As the day drew near, however, and the extensive preparations of the Irish Catholics became more apparent, they finally determined to risk the latter course, and it was decided that Superintendent Kelso should issue an order forbidding the Orangemen to parade. This ludicrous attempt on the part of the Mayor to shift the responsibility from his own shoulders, awakened only scorn, and the appearance of the order was followed by a storm of indignation that was appalling. The leading papers, without regard to politics, opened on him and his advisers, with such a torrent of denunciations that they quailed before it. Processions of all kinds and nationalities were allowed on the streets, and to forbid only one, and that because it was Protestant, was an insult to every American citizen. Even Wall Street forgot its usual excitement, and leading men were heard violently denouncing this cowardly surrender of Mayor Hall to the threats of a mob. An impromptu meeting was called in the Produce Exchange, and a petition drawn up, asking the president to call a formal meeting, and excited men stood in line two hours, waiting their turn to sign it. The building was thronged, and the vice-president called the meeting to order, and informed it that the rules required twenty-four hours' notice for such a meeting. The members, however, would listen to no delay, and with an unanimous and thundering vote, declared the rules suspended. The action of the city authorities was denounced in withering terms, and a committee of leading men appointed to wait on them, and remonstrate with the Mayor. One could scarcely have dreamed that this order would stir New York so profoundly. But the people, peculiarly sensitive to any attack on religious freedom, were the more fiercely aroused, that in this case it was a Catholic mob using the city authority to strike down Protestantism. The Mayor and his subordinates were appalled at the tempest they had raised, and calling a council, resolved to revoke the order. In the meantime, Governor Hoffman was telegraphed to from Albany. Hastening to the city, he, after a consultation with Mayor Hall, decided to issue the following proclamation:

"Having been only this day apprised, while at the capital, of the actual condition of things here, with reference to proposed processions to- morrow, and having, in the belief that my presence was needed, repaired hither immediately, I do make this proclamation:

"The order heretofore issued by the police authorities, in reference to said processions, being duly revoked, I hereby give notice that any and all bodies of men desiring to assemble in peaceable procession to-morrow, the 12th inst., will be permitted to do so. They will be protected to the fullest extent possible by the military and police authorities. A police and military escort will be furnished to any body of men desiring it, on application to me at my head-quarters (which will be at police head- quarters in this city) at any time during the day. I warn all persons to abstain from interference with any such assembly or procession, except by authority from me; and I give notice that all the powers of my command, civil and military, will be used to preserve the public peace, and put down at all hazards, every attempt at disturbances; and I call upon all citizens, of every race and religion, to unite with me and the local authorities in this determination, to preserve the peace and honor of the city and State."

Dated at New York, this eleventh day of July, A. D. 1871. JOHN T. HOFFMAN.

It was thought by many that this would counteract the effects of the cowardly order of the police superintendent. But whatever its effect might have been, had it been issued earlier, it now came too late to do any good. The preparations of the Roman Catholics were all made. A secret circular had fallen into the hands of the police, showing that the organization of the rioters was complete-the watchwords and signals all arranged, and even the points designated where the attacks on the procession were to be made. Arms had been collected and transported to certain localities, and everything betokened a stormy morrow. Consequently, General Shaler issued orders to the commanders of the several regiments of militia, directing them to have their men in readiness at their respective armories at 7 o'clock next morning, prepared to march at a moment's warning. His head-quarters, like those of General Brown in the draft riots, were at the police head-quarters, so as to have the use of the police telegraph, in conveying orders to different sections of the city. Meanwhile, detachments were placed on guard at the different armories, to frustrate any attempt on the part of the mob to seize arms.

The night, however, wore quietly away, and in the morning the Governor's proclamation appeared in the morning papers, showing the rioters the nature of the work before them, if they undertook to carry out their infamous plans. It seemed to have no effect, however. Early in the morning sullen groups of Irishmen gathered on the corners of the streets, where the Irish resided in greatest numbers, among which were women, gesticulating and talking violently, apparently wholly unaware that the authorities had any power, or, at least, thought they dared not use it. Other groups traversed the streets, while at the several rendezvous of the Hibernians, many carried muskets or rifles without any attempt at concealment. In the upper part of the city, a body of rioters began to move southward, compelling all the workmen on their way to leave work and join them. One or two armories were attacked, but the rioters were easily repulsed. The demonstrations at length became so threatening, that by ten o'clock the police seized Hibernia Hall.

About the same time, the Orangemen—who on the issue of Kelso's order had determined not to parade but on the appearance of the Governor's proclamation changed their mind—began to assemble at Lamartine Hall, on the corner of Eighth Avenue and Twenty-ninth Street. Their room was in the fourth story, and the delegates from the various lodges brought with them their badges and banners, which they displayed from the windows. This brought a crowd in front of the building, curious to know what was going on in the lodge room. Soon five hundred policemen, ten or fifteen of them on horseback, appeared under the command of Inspectors Walling and Jamieson, and occupied both sides of Twenty-ninth Street, between Eighth and Ninth Avenues. Several policemen also stood on Eighth Avenue, while the door of the hall was guarded by others. Inside the hall there were probably some seventy-five or a hundred Orangemen, discussing the parade. Some stated that a great many, concluding there would be none, had gone to their usual work, while others, alarmed at the threats of the Hibernians, would not join it. But after some discussion, it was resolved, that although the number would be small, they would parade at all hazards; and at eleven o'clock the door was thrown open, and the Orangemen, wearing orange colors, were admitted, amid the wildest cheering. An invitation was sent to the lodges of Jersey City to join them, but they declined, preferring to celebrate the day at home.

Two o'clock was the hour fixed upon for the parade to begin, and the authorities at police head-quarters were so advised. In the meantime a banner had been prepared on which was inscribed in large letters,

"AMERICANS! FREEMEN!! FALL IN!!!"

in order to get accessions from outsiders, but without success.

The line of march finally resolved upon was down Eighth Avenue to Twenty- third Street, and up it to Fifth Avenue, down Fifth Avenue to Fourteenth Street, along it to Union Square, saluting the Lincoln and Washington statues as they passed, and then down Fourth Avenue to Cooper Institute, where the procession would break up.

About one o'clock, a party of men came rushing down Eighth Avenue, opposite Lamartine Hall, cheering and shouting, led by a man waving a sword cane. As he swung it above his head it parted, disclosing a long dirk. The police immediately advanced and swept the street. Eighth Avenue was cleared from Thirtieth Street to Twenty-eighth Street, and the police formed several deep, leaving only room enough for the cars to pass.

In the meantime, around police head-quarters, in Mott Street, things wore a serious aspect. From six o'clock in the morning, the various detachments of police kept arriving until Bleecker, Houston, Mulberry, and Mott Streets were dark with the massed battalions, ready to move at a moment's notice. Rations were served out to them standing. Early in the day, Governor Hoffman and staff arrived, and were quartered in the Superintendent's room, while General Shaler and staff were quartered in the fire marshal's office. Commissioners Manierre, Smith, and Barr were in their own rooms, receiving reports from the various precincts over the wires. A little after nine a dispatch came, stating that the quarrymen near Central Park had quitted work, and were gathering in excited groups, swearing that the Orangemen should not parade. Immediately Inspector Jamieson, with two hundred and fifty policemen, was despatched in stages to Forty-seventh Street and Eighth Avenue, to watch the course of events. Another dispatch stated that an attack was threatened on Harper's building, in Franklin Square, and Captain Allaire, of the Seventh Precinct, was hurried off with fifty men to protect it. A little later came the news that the Orangemen had determined to parade at two o'clock, and a police force of five hundred, as we have already stated, were massed in Eighth Avenue, opposite Lamartine Hall. About noon, a body of rioters made an attack on the armory, No. 19 Avenue A, in which were a hundred and thirty-eight stands of arms. Fortunately, the janitor of the building saw them in time to fasten the doors before they reached it, and then ran to the nearest police-station for help, from which a dispatch was sent to head-quarters. Captain Mount, with a hundred policemen, was hurried off to the threatened point. He arrived, before the doors were broken in, and falling on the rioters with clubs, drove them in all directions. During the forenoon, Drill-captain Copeland was given five Companies, and told to seize Hibernia Hall, where arms were being distributed. As he approached, he ordered the mob to disperse, but was answered with taunts and curses, while the women hurled stones at his face. He then gave the order to charge, when the men fell on the crowd with such fury, that they broke and fled in wild confusion. Meanwhile, the detectives had been busy, and secured eighteen of the ring-leaders, whom they marched to police head- quarters.