It is to be observed that the above accounts vary according to the position of the witnesses. Mr. Stewart confines his attention chiefly to the operations of the police; Gen. Sandford to those of the military; while others may be supposed to represent the views and feelings of the mere spectators.

On the examination of Mr. Stewart, he was asked, if, in his opinion, the riot could have been prevented or suppressed by the action of the police, without calling on the military. Though loth to give an opinion, which might be construed into a censure of the authorities, he stated his belief that the whole affair might have been differently managed.

The scene which followed the firing of the military, beggars all description. The wounded, the dying, and the dead, were scattered in every direction. There were groans of agony, cries for help, and oaths of vengeance. The dead and the wounded were borne to the drug stores at the corners of Eighth street and Broadway, and Third Avenue, and others in the vicinity, and surgeons were summoned to attend them. Some were conveyed by the police to the Fifteenth Ward Station-House, and a few carried to the City Hospital. Some of the dead and wounded were laid out upon the billiard tables of Vauxhall Saloon, a large crowd gathered around, and speeches were made by excited orators.

Had none but those actively engaged in the riot been shot by the military, these details would have been sufficiently melancholy. But even then, we are to consider that the men who composed the mob, may have acted, under ordinary circumstances, like honest and respectable citizens. A mob is composed of the same men in a state of temporary insanity, and they should be treated accordingly. Sober and quiet citizens, acting under such a temporary excitement, have committed the greatest outrages. They should be restrained, but not sacrificed, unless under the most imperative necessity.

But in this case, very few of the active rioters were injured—the greater part of the killed and wounded being either spectators, or persons passing by the scene. Thus, Bridget Fagan was walking with her husband along the Bowery, shot through the leg, and died at the Hospital. Mr. Stuart, an old retired merchant, was severely wounded in the neck, while standing in the Bowery; and Mr. Collins was shot dead while getting out of a car of the Harlem Rail Road. Wm. C. Russell, a lawyer, had his arm shattered while passing around the corner of the Bowery. Mr. Livingston, standing in St. Mark’s place, two blocks off, was severely wounded. There were many more such cases.

Of those who were shot down in the immediate vicinity of the Opera House, the greater portion were taking no part in the affair. Mr. George W. Gedney, a broker in Wall-street, who had a wife, to whom he had been married but little more than a year, and one child, was shot instantly dead, as he was standing inside the railing by the Langdon mansion. At the first volley, a ball pierced his brain. His wife knew he had gone to see the riot, and she had had a presentiment of some disaster. She sat watching and waiting for her husband, for it was the first time he had been out at night, without her, since their marriage. She waited until four o’clock in the morning in an agony of terror, when, unable to endure the suspense any longer, she rushed into the street, went to the house of one of her husband’s friends, roused him from his slumber, and begged him to go and seek for her husband. The man went, and found poor Gedney a cold corpse. Mrs. Gedney was sitting at the window when he returned, and motioned for him to come to her, but he shook his head mournfully, and passed by in silence. She knew that her beloved husband was no more. Her neighbor, who had not the courage to tell her the awful tidings, sent his wife to comfort her. This is but one of many such cases of domestic affliction, produced by the events of that night of terror.


CHAPTER SEVENTH.
THE DAY AFTER THE RIOT—POPULAR EXCITEMENT—CORONER’S
INQUEST—LIST OF THE KILLED AND WOUNDED.

The morning of the eleventh of May was one of sad excitement in the city of New York. The extent of the calamity, the number of the dead and wounded, made a deep and solemn impression. Public opinion was very much divided. The more excitable breathed threats of vengeance, and the military were kept under arms during that and the succeeding day. A meeting was called in the Park, of “Citizens opposed to the destruction of Human Life.” Several thousands assembled, and resolutions were passed, thoroughly condemning the authorities for not exhausting the civil power before calling out the military, and characterizing the sacrifice of life as “the most wanton, unprovoked and murderous outrage ever perpetrated in the civilized world;” and calling upon the Grand Jury to indict the Mayor, Recorder and Sheriff, for ordering the military to fire on the citizens. Exciting and inflammatory speeches were made by Edward Strahan, Isaiah Rynders, and Mike Walsh, but the meeting separated without disturbance.

That night, all eyes were turned toward the Opera House, for though it had been closed by the lessees, and though Macready was in Boston, it had been given out that it should be destroyed. The most efficient measures had been taken by the authorities, and a proclamation issued by the Mayor. Gen. Sandford called out four troops of horse artillery, one squadron of cavalry, four regiments of infantry, including the fifth brigade, and a detachment of the veteran artillery, with a 24 pound howitzer. The artillery was planted so as to sweep the streets around the building, and the infantry and cavalry stationed at a convenient distance. The artillery was furnished with grape, and the infantry with ball cartridge.