All this time, while new notes of alarm were sounded, and the police department was struggling to get its force in hand, the work of destruction was going on in the upper part of the city. Bull's Head Tavern, in Forty-sixth Street, attracted the attention of the mob. The sales of the immense herds of cattle in the adjoining yard had been suspended, and the hotel closed. The crowd, however, forgetting the draft, and intent only on pillage, streamed up around it, and shouted, "Fire it! fire it!" While some were calling for axes and crowbars, ten powerful men jumped on the stoop, and with a few heavy blows sent the hall door flying from its hinges. The yelling crowd then rushed in, and after helping themselves to what they wanted, applied the torch, and soon the entire building was a mass of flame.
{Illustration: THE RIOT IN LEXINGTON AVENUE.}
At this time another mob was sacking houses in Lexington Avenue. Elegant furniture and silver plate were borne away by the crowd, while the ladies, with their children and servants, fled in terror from the scene. The provost marshal's head-quarters were also set on fire, and the whole block on Broadway, between Twenty-eighth and Twenty-ninth Streets, was burned down, while jewelry stores and shops of all kinds were plundered and their contents carried off. A vast horde followed the rioters for the sole purpose of plunder, and loaded down with their spoils, could be seen hastening home in every direction.
While these fires were under full headway, a new idea seemed to strike the mob, or at least a portion of it. Having stopped the draft in two districts, sacked and set on fire nearly a score of houses, and half killed as many men, it now, impelled by a strange logic, sought to destroy the Colored Orphan Asylum on Fifth Avenue, extending from Forty-third to Forty-fourth Street. There would have been no draft but for the war—there would have been no war but for slavery. But the slaves were black, ergo, all blacks are responsible for the war. This seemed to be the logic of the mob, and having reached the sage conclusion to which it conducted, they did not stop to consider how poor helpless orphans could be held responsible, but proceeded at once to wreak their vengeance on them. The building was four stories high, and besides the matrons and officers, contained over two hundred children, from mere infants up to twelve years of age. Around this building the rioters gathered with loud cries and oaths, sending terror into the hearts of the inmates. Superintendent William E. Davis hurriedly fastened the doors; but knowing they would furnish but a momentary resistance to the armed multitude, he, with others, collected hastily the terrified children, and carrying some in their arms, and leading others, hurried them in a confused crowd out at the rear of the building, just as the ruffians effected an entrance in front. Then the work of pillage commenced, and everything carried off that could be, even to the dresses and trinkets of the children, while heavy furniture was smashed and chopped up in the blind desire of destruction. Not satisfied with this, they piled the fragments in the different rooms, and set fire to them. At this juncture Chief Engineer Decker arrived, and determined, if possible, to save the building, addressed the crowd, as he had in the morning, hoping to induce them to forbear further violence, and let him extinguish the flames. But they had now got beyond argument of any kind, and knocking him down twice, pitched him into the street. But ten brave firemen at this juncture rushed to his side, and together fought their way through the crowd into the building, where they were joined by two assistant engineers, Lamb and Lewis. They at once began to scatter and extinguish the burning fragments, keeping back for a while, by their bold bearing, the rioters. The latter, however, soon rallied in force, and some mounting to the loft, set it on fire in every part. Decker and his few gallant allies, finding it impossible to save the building, retreated into the street, and soon the massive structure was a sheet of flame.
The crowd now proceeded to Mayor Opdyke's house, and gathering in front of it, sent up shouts and calls for the Mayor. They were, however, deterred at that time from accomplishing their purpose by an appeal from Judge Barnard, who addressed them from the steps of an adjoining house.
Soon after, an immense mob was reported coming down Broadway, for the purpose, some thought, of attacking the negro waiters in the Lafarge House, between Amity and Bleecker Streets, but in fact to attack police head-quarters in Mulberry Street, and break up the very centre of operations. It was a bold stroke, but the ringleaders had been drinking all day, and now, maddened by liquor, were ready for the most desperate attempts. When the news of this movement reached head-quarters, the commissioners saw that a crisis had come. The mob numbered at least five thousand, while they could not muster at that moment two hundred men. The clerk, Mr. Hawley, went to the commissioners' room, and said: "Gentlemen, the crisis has come. A battle has got to be fought now, and won too, or all is lost." They agreed with him. "But who," they asked, "will lead the comparatively small force in this fight?" He replied that he thought that Sergeant Carpenter should be selected, as one of the oldest and most experienced officers on the force. "Well," they said, "will you go down to his room and see what he says about it?" He went, and laid before him the perilous condition of things, and that an immediate and successful battle must be fought.
Carpenter heard him through, and taking in fully the perilous condition of things, paused a moment, and then rising to his full height and lifting his hand, said, with a terrible oath, "I'll go, and I'll win that fight, or Daniel Carpenter will never come back a live man." He walked out and summoned the little force, and as "Fall in, men; fall in," was repeated, they fell into line along the street. When all was ready, Acton turned to Carpenter, every lineament of whose face showed the stern purpose that mastered him, and quietly said, "Sergeant make no arrests."
It was to be a battle in which no prisoners were to be taken. "All right" replied Carpenter, as he buttoned up his coat and shouted "Forward." Solid, and silent save their heavy, measured tread on the pavement, they moved down Bleecker Street towards Broadway. As they turned into the latter street, only a block and a half away, they saw the mob, which filled the entire street far as the eye could reach, moving tumultuously forward. Armed with clubs, pitchforks, iron bars, and some with guns and pistols, and most of them in their shirt-sleeves and shouting as they came, they presented a wild and savage appearance. Pedestrians fled down the side streets, stores were hastily closed, stages vanished, and they had the street to themselves. A huge board, on which was inscribed "No Draft," was borne aloft as a banner, and beside it waved the Stars and Stripes.
The less than two hundred policemen, compact and firm, now halted, while Carpenter detached two companies of fifty each up the parallel streets to the right and left, as far as Fourth Street. Coming down this street from both directions, they were to strike the mob on both flanks at the same time he charged them in front. He waited till they had reached their positions, and then shouted, "By the right flank Company front, double-quick, CHARGE." Instantaneously every club was swung in air, and solid as a wall and swift as a wave they swept full on the astonished multitude; while at the same time, to cut the monster in two, the two companies charged in flank. Carpenter, striding several steps in advance, his face fairly blazing with excitement, dealt the first blow, stretching on the pavement a powerful ruffian, who was rushing on him with a huge club. For a few minutes nothing was heard but the heavy thud of clubs falling on human skulls, thick and fast as hailstones on windows. The mob, just before so confident and bold, quailed in terror and would have broke and fled at once, but for the mass behind which kept bearing down on them. This, however, soon gave way before the side attacks and the panic that followed. Then the confusion and uproar became terrible, and the mass surged hither and thither, now rolling up Broadway, and again borne back or shoved up against the stores, seeking madly for a way of escape. At length, breaking into fragments, they rushed down the side streets, hotly pursued by the police, whose remorseless clubs never ceased to fall as long as a fugitive was within, reach. Broadway looked like a field of battle, for the pavement was strewn thick with bleeding, prostrate forms. It was a great victory and decisive of all future contests.
Having effectually dispersed them, Carpenter, with the captured flag, marched up to Mayor Opdyke's house, when, finding everything quiet, he returned to head-quarters. This successful attack of the police was received with cheers by those spectators who had witnessed it.