The Great Riots of New York, 1712 to 1873

by Joel Tyler Headley

CHAPTER XVI. — SECOND DAY.

Appearance of the City.—Assembling of the Mob.—Fight between Rioters and the Police and Soldiers.—Storming of Houses.—Rioters hurled from the Roofs.—Soldiers fire on the People.—Awful Death of Colonel O'Brien.—Fight in Pitt Street.—Deadly Conflict for a Wire Factory.—Horrible Impaling of a Mart on an Iron Picket.—Mystery attached to Him.—Second Attack on Mayor Opdyke's House.—Second Fight for the Wire Factory.—Telegraphic Dispatches.—Citizens Volunteering.—Raid on the Negroes.—They are hunted to Death.—Savage Spectacle.—Negroes seek Head-quarters of Police.—Appearance and State of the City.—Colonel Nugent's House sacked.—Fight with the Mob in Third Avenue.—Battle at Gibbon's House.—Policeman Shot.—Night Attack on Brooks and Brothers' Clothing Store.—Value of the Telegraph System.—Captain Petty.—Seymour's Speech to the Mob.—Cars and Stages seized.—Barricades.—Other Fights.—Acton and his Labors.

The early July morning broke tranquilly over the great city, and the rattling of vehicles was heard in some of the streets, where men were going to their places of business. In a large portion of it everything wore its usual air of tranquillity, yet a close observer would notice an uneasiness resting on the countenances of men. Furtive glances were cast down side streets, and people seemed on the watch, as though in expectation of something to come, and the very atmosphere appeared laden with evil omens. Around police head-quarters, and inside the building, were large bodies of policemen and the U. S. troops under General Brown. But uptown, in the vicinity of Thirteenth Street and Second and Third Avenues, crowds of men began early to assemble, though perfectly quiet in their demeanor, while smaller knots in the adjoining wards could be seen discussing the events of the day before. In the meantime, exciting reports came from Harlem and Yorkville—as early as five o'clock, the following telegram was sent to the Twentieth Precinct: "Notify General Sandford to go immediately to Eighty-sixth Street and Harlem—mob burning." Indeed the air was charged with electricity, but the commissioners now felt ready to meet the storm whenever and wherever it should burst. A large force of special policemen had been sworn in, while General Brown had over seven hundred troops, ready to co-operate with the police. The public buildings were all well guarded—Sandford had a strong force in the arsenal, and the military and civil authorities stood waiting the next movement of the mob. Telegrams arriving, showed that the northern part of the city was alive with gathering crowds, while from Sixth Avenue on the west nearly to Second Avenue in the east, and down almost to Broome Street, the streets were black with excited men. Stores were closed, factories emptied of their hands, who voluntarily joined the rioters, or were forced into their ranks, and there was evidently a gathering of the elements in those directions for a fearful storm. Soon immense crowds began to patrol the streets in different wards, showing that simultaneous action would be required at various points. The troops were called out and marshalled in Mulberry Street, and those companies selected for immediate action drawn up in line. Colonel Frothingham, after an earnest conversation with the officers, addressed the soldiers. He told them that the fate of the city was in their hands, and everything depended on their good conduct. Knowing the temptations to disorderly conduct in the midst of the great city, he urged on them especially to obey implicitly their officers under all circumstances. His manner and words were earnest, and listened to with profound attention. Soon a company headed by Sergeant Carpenter, with a police force two hundred and fifty strong, started for Second and Third Avenues, where the greatest gatherings were reported to be.

At this time the rioters seemed hesitating about their course of action. There was apparently no recognized leader, no common understanding and purpose, though all were engaged in animated discussions of some topic. Dirty, ferocious-looking women were scattered through the crowd; some of the men were armed, while all looked defiant and determined.

There were doubtless many who had come from mere curiosity, and a few attempted to allay the excitement, among them a Catholic priest, who harangued them, urging them to maintain peace. His address seemed to have considerable influence on those immediately around him; but as soon as he left, his words were forgotten, and the mighty throng, estimated by some at ten thousand, began to be agitated by passion. What would have been the first act of violence, it is impossible to say, had they been left undisturbed. But at the cry of "the police and soldiers are coming," everything else was forgotten.

Inspector Carpenter, coming down Twenty-first Street, struck Second Avenue, and wheeling, moved in solid column through the crowd up to Thirty-second Street. The force was assailed with hoots and yells, and all kinds of opprobrious epithets, but no violence was shown, until it had crossed Thirty-second Street. The mob not only filled the street, but numbers, with piles of stones and brick-bats, had climbed to the roofs of the houses. These deeming themselves secure, suddenly, with one accord, rained their missiles on the rear of the column.

The men fell rapidly, and two were dangerously hurt. Carpenter immediately halted his command, and ordered fifty men to enter the houses, and mounting to the roof, clear them of the assailants. Barricaded doors were at once broken in, and every one that opposed their progress clubbed without mercy, as they made their way to the upper floors. Captain Mount of the Eleventh Precinct, led this storming party. Officers Watson and Cole distinguished themselves by being the first on the roof, fighting their way through a narrow scuttle. As the police, one by one, stepped on to the roof, they rushed on the desperadoes with their clubs, and felled them rapidly. Those who attempted to escape through the scuttles were met by the police in the rooms below; or if one chanced to reach the street, he was knocked down by those keeping guard there. Some dropped from second and third story windows, and met with a worse fate than those who staid behind. One huge fellow received such a tremendous blow, that he was knocked off his feet and over the edge of the roof, and fell headlong down a height of four stories to the pavement beneath. Crushed to death by the force of the fall, he lay a mangled heap at the feet of his companions.

The fight was sharp and fierce, and kept up for nearly an hour, and bodies scattered around showed with what deadly force the club had been wielded. But with the clearing of the houses there came a lull in the conflict, and the immense crowd looked on in sullen silence, as the police reformed in the street, and recommenced their march. The military force that had accompanied the police, had formed on the avenue, about a block and a half above where the latter were stationed, while the detachment was clearing the houses. Two howitzers were placed in position commanding the avenue. Colonel O'Brien, of the Eleventh New York Volunteers, who was raising a regiment for the war, had gathered together, apparently on his own responsibility, about fifty men, and appearing on the field, from his superior rank, assumed command. For a short time the rioters remained quiet, but as the police marched away, they suddenly awoke out of their apparent indifference. Maddened at the sight of the mangled bodies of their friends stretched on the pavement, and enraged at their defeat by the police, they now turned on the soldiers, and began to pelt them with stones and brick-bats. O'Brien rode up and down the centre of the street a few times, evidently thinking his fearless bearing would awe the mob. But they only jeered him, and finding the attack growing hotter and more determined, he finally gave the order to fire. The howitzers belched forth on the crowd, the soldiers levelled their pieces, and the whistling of minie-balls was heard on every side. Men and women, reeled and fell on the sidewalk and in the street. One woman, with her child in her arms, fell, pierced with a bullet. The utmost consternation followed. The crowd knew from sad experience that the police would use their clubs, but they seemed to think it hardly possible that the troops would fire point-blank into their midst. But the deadly effect of the fire convinced them of their error, and they began to jostle and crowd each other in the effort to get out of its range. In a few minutes the avenue was cleared of the living, when the wounded and dead were cared for by their friends. Order had been restored, and O'Brien, with some twenty or thirty men, marched down to police head-quarters, and offered his services to Genera Brown. Colonel Frothingham thanked him, but soon saw that the Colonel was not in a fit state to have command of troops, and so reported to General Brown. O'Brien appeared to comprehend the state of things, and asked to be excused on the plea of sickness. He was excused, and rode away. Whether he disbanded his handful of men, or they disbanded themselves, was not stated, but he was soon back again at the scene of the riot. His residence was close by, but had been deserted that morning by the family, which had fled in alarm to Brooklyn. Scowling visages lowered on the colonel, as he rode slowly back among the crowd, and low muttered threats were heard. Although an Irishman, and well-known in that neighborhood, his sympathy with the Government had awakened more or less hostile feeling against him, which his conduct to-day kindled into deadly hate. Apparently unconscious or reckless of this, he dismounted, and entered a neighboring drug-store or saloon. After remaining a few moments he came out, and paused as he beheld the crowd that had assembled around the door. There was little said, but dark and angry countenances were bent on him from every side, and he saw that mischief was intended. Drawing his sword, and taking a revolver in the other hand, he deliberately walked out into the street. He had taken but a few steps, when a powerful blow on the back of his head made him stagger forward. In an instant a rush was made for him, and blows were rained so fast and fierce upon him, that he was unable to defend himself. Knocked down and terribly mangled, he was dragged with savage brutality over the rough pavement, and swung from side to side like a billet of wood, till the large, powerful body was a mass of gore, and the face beaten to a pumice. The helpless but still animate form would then be left awhile in the street, while the crowd, as it swayed to and fro, gazed on it with cool indifference or curses. At length a Catholic priest, who had either been sent for, or came along to offer his services wherever they might be needed, approached the dying man and read the service of the Catholic Church over him, the crowd in the meantime remaining silent. After he had finished, he told them to leave the poor man alone, as he was fast sinking. But as soon as he had disappeared, determined to make sure work with their victim, they again began to pound and trample on the body. In the intervals of the attack, the still living man would feebly lift his head, or roll it from side to side on the stones, or heave a faint groan.

The whole afternoon was spent in this fiendish work, and no attempt was made to rescue him. Towards sundown the body was dragged into his own back-yard, his regimentals all torn from him, except his pantaloons, leaving the naked body, from the waist up, a mass of mangled flesh clotted with blood.

But the dying man could not be left alone in his own yard. A crowd followed him thither, among which were women, who committed the most atrocious violence on the body, until at last, with one convulsive movement of the head, and a deep groan, the strong man yielded up his life.