The residence of Colonel Nugent, Eighty-sixth street, was utterly destroyed; and an adjoining building was burned to the ground. A large factory in Harlem was fired, and completely consumed. Post-Master Wakeman’s residence in Yorkville was pillaged of everything it contained, and then reduced to ashes; an attack was made on the clothing store of Mr. Brooks, Catherine street, the rioters carrying away articles of clothing of great value. The robbery was interrupted, and the probable subsequent destruction of the building prevented, by the arrival of a police force, who fell upon the mob with great fierceness, capturing many, and scattering the remainder in confusion. Thieves, garroters, rowdies and ruffians of all descriptions took this opportunity of joining the mob and robbing and plundering at their pleasure. Many of the rioters arrested by the police were recognized as old offenders.
Another assault upon the Tribune Office was attempted, but did not amount to anything. A large crowd was collected in the Park, and around the City Hall. Governor Seymour made his appearance upon the front steps of the building, and addressed the crowd in the following manner:
“My Friends: I have come down here from the quiet of the country to see what was the difficulty, to learn what all this trouble was concerning the Draft. Let me assure you that I am your friend. [Uproarious cheering] You have been my friends—[cries of “Yes,” “Yes,” “That’s so”—“We are and will be again”]—and now I assure you, my fellow-citizens, that, I am here to show you a test of my friendship. [Cheers.] I wish to inform you that I have sent my Adjutant-General to Washington to confer with the authorities there, and to have this Draft suspended and stopped. [Vociferous cheers.] I now ask you as good citizens to wait for his return, and I assure you that I will do all that I can to see that there is no inequality, and no wrong done to any one. I wish you to take good care of all property as good citizens, and see that every person is safe. The safe keeping of property and persons rests with you, and I charge you to disturb neither. It is your duty to maintain the good order of the city, and I know you will do it. I wish you now to separate as good citizens, and you can assemble again whenever you wish to do so. I ask you to leave all to me now, and I will see to your rights. Wait until my adjutant returns from Washington, and you shall be satisfied. Listen to me, and see that no harm is done to either persons or property, but retire peaceably.” [Cheers.] Some of the crowd here shouted, “Send away those bayonets,” referring to a company of soldiers who were drawn up in front of the City Hall, but the Governor declined to interfere with the military, and bowing to the crowd, retired.
A person named Andrews, formerly of Virginia, then introduced himself and asked the crowd to disperse, and await the reply from Washington, which he was certain would come by telegraph this afternoon, and which he knew would be, that no draft would take place. [Cries of “Send these soldiers away, then we’ll go.”] Upon the suggestion of some person, Mr. Perrin told the crowd that the soldiers present were subject to the command of Governor Seymour, and could not go unless he ordered them away. The speaker then retired, as did also the crowd, after many mutterings against the troops.
Those of the mob who had gathered solely with a view to oppose the draft, gradually dispersed; but the crowd had attracted to itself too many who were only anxious to pillage and destroy, to be so readily broken up; and the rioters only left the City Hall to assemble elsewhere. Again night, but not quiet, descended upon the scene. From end to end of the city the feeling of anxious fear was increased rather than diminished. Violence, theft and bloodshed reigned in all directions, and the sky was lurid with the lights of the still burning buildings.
THE THIRD DAY.
The Seventh regiment had been sent for, and were hourly expected on this day, the 15th; but the expected arrival of a body of military fresh from the seat of war did not, apparently, in the least intimidate the rioters, who went about threatening the houses, property, and lives of all who came under their displeasure, and boasting that they were so well organized as to fear nothing. One of the first acts of the rioters upon this day was a cowardly and brutal outrage upon an unfortunate negro, whom it was alleged had shot one of their number in self-defence. Immediately a crowd of two or three hundred rioters surrounded the unfortunate wretch, and seized him as he was endeavoring to enter his house. Dragging him into the middle of the street, they jumped upon him and pounded him with their fists and with stones, until life was extinct. “Hang him”—“hang him,” was the cry, and procuring a piece of clothes line, the crowd suspended the lifeless body from the limb of a tree, where he remained hanging several hours. This fiendish act accomplished, the insurgents cried, “burn his house,” when a rush was made upon the building, and the door burst open. After emptying it they set fire to and destroyed it. The firemen arriving upon the ground in response to the alarm, saved the adjoining property from injury.
Meantime a woman told the mob that a row of tenement houses in the rear were occupied by colored people, when the ringleader, armed with a cudgel, led to the place in search of the inmates, but they had effected their escape, having been apprised of their danger by some friendly neighbors at the commencement of the outbreak. Incensed at the escape of their prey, the mob burned the buildings, and fled on the arrival of the police. The body of the unfortunate negro was cut down, and removed to the dead-house.
At a later hour, the mob, strongly reinforced, again appeared in the neighborhood, when they were fired upon by a company of military who had been ordered to the spot. Several of the rioters were killed, but their names were never ascertained.
About half past two o’clock a large force of the mob stopped at a lumber-yard on Fourteenth street, fired it, and burnt it to the ground, causing the luckless owner a loss of ten thousand dollars. The rage of the bloodthirsty rioters continued to expend itself upon the colored population, and upon all who had the reputation of being abolitionists. Many beautiful buildings were laid in ashes, for no other reason than because some maliciously disposed person volunteered the information that “an abolitionist lived in the pile somewhere.”