Scenes in the City and at Head-quarters.—Fight in Eighth Avenue.—Cannon sweep the Streets.—Narrow Escape of Captain Howell and Colonel Mott.—Battle for Jackson's Foundry.—Howitzers clear the Street.—State of Things shown by Telegraph Despatches.—General Sandford sends out a Force against a Mob, at Corner of Twenty-ninth Street and Seventh Avenue.—Colonel Gardin's Fight with the Mob.—Is Wounded.—Mob Victorious.—Dead and Wounded Soldiers left in the Street.—Captain Putnam sent to bring them away.—Disperses the Mob.—Terrific Night.
Tuesday had been a day of constant success to the police and military, and many thought that the rioters were thoroughly disheartened, and but little more hard fighting would be done. There had been two days of exhausting work, and both parties were well tired out. The commissioners, certainly, could not stand this terrible strain much longer. Forty-eight hours without sleep or rest, and all the time under the intensest mental strain, was telling on even the wiry Acton, though he would confess to no fatigue.
To one who could take in all that was passing in New York on this morning, the city would have presented a strange appearance.
The magnitude and demonstrations of the mob had aroused great fear for the Navy Yard and the naval property of the Government, and the marine company that had been on duty with the police was recalled by Admiral Paulding for their protection; and this morning six war-vessels, carrying in all over ninety guns, shotted and trained, could be seen drawn up, so as to command every avenue to the yard, while the iron-clad battery Passaic and a gun-boat lay off the Battery to protect Fort Columbus during the absence of its garrison. Marines armed to the teeth, and howitzers, guarded all the entrances to the Navy Yard. Broadway was almost deserted—no stages were running, street-cars had disappeared—only here and there shutters were taken down from the stores, and it looked like Sabbath day in the city. But at police head-quarters all was activity. The African church nearly opposite was filled with soldiers stretched on the seats and floor of the building. Another house, a few doors from the police building, was also crowded with soldiers. The owner of this empty house, having sent a flat refusal to Acton's request for the use of it, the latter quietly told the policemen to stave in the door. It took but a few minutes to send it from its hinges; and now the troops were quartered in it also; for all those in the service of the United States, under General Brown, had their head-quarters here.
In the basement of the police building was the telegraph, with the wires running like nerves to every part of the city, over which inquiries and answers were continually passing. Rooms all around were filled with rations obtained from a neighboring grocery and meatmarket, taken with or without leave. On the main floor, on one side, in their office sat the weary commissioners; on the other, were Inspectors Carpenter, Dilks, and Leonard, fit, each one to be a general, while scattered around were police captains, detectives, and patrolmen. On the second story were the clerks, copyists, etc.; while the top floor was crowded with colored refugees, who had fled thither for protection. Some were standing and conversing, others sitting in groups on boxes, or walking from room to room; many of these sad and serious, as they thought of missing relatives and friends, while the colored man placed over them, with his shirt sleeves rolled up, was, with his assistants, dealing out provisions.
But soon it was announced that a vast crowd, numbering some five thousand, was assembled near Eighth Avenue and Thirty-second Street, sacking houses and hanging negroes. General Dodge and Colonel Mott, with Captain Howell, commanding Eighth Regiment Artillery, were at once despatched thither. As they marched up the avenue, they saw three negroes hanging dead, while the crowd around filled the air with fiendish shouts. As the firm, compact head of the column moved forward, the mob fell back, but did not scatter. Colonel Mott dashed forward on horseback and cut down one of the negroes with his sword. This seemed to be the signal for the mob to commence the attack, and the next moment they rushed forward on the soldiers with stones, brick-bats, and slung-shots. Colonel Mott then told Captain Howell to bring two pieces into battery on the corner of Thirty-second Street and Seventh Avenue, so as to sweep the streets; but he could not get through the dense crowd to do so. The infantry and cavalry were then ordered up and told to clear the way. The former, with level bayonets, and the latter with drawn sabres, charged on the mass, which parted and fell back some distance, and then halted. Captain Howell then advanced alone, and ordered the rioters to disperse, or he should fire on them. To this they replied in sullen silence. The apparent unwillingness of the captain to fire emboldened them to believe that he would not fire at all. Although they refused to disperse, the officers, as long as they made no assault, declined to give the word to fire. This delay encouraged the rioters still more; and either believing the guns, whose muzzles pointed so threateningly on them, were loaded with blank cartridges, or grown desperate and reckless with rage, they suddenly, as though moved by a common impulse, rushed forward and rained stones and missiles of every kind on the soldiers. Seeing that their object was to seize the guns and turn them on the troops, the word to fire was given. The next moment a puff of smoke rolled out, followed with a report that shook the buildings. As the murderous shot tore through the crowded mass, they stopped, and swayed heavily back for a moment, when the pieces were quickly reloaded, and again sent their deadly contents into their midst, strewing the pavements with the dead and dying. Those, however, in the rear, being protected by the mass in front, refused to give way, and it was not till five or six rounds had been fired that they finally broke and fled down the side streets. The military then broke into columns and marched up and down the streets, scattering everything before them, and arresting many of the rioters.
Having finished their work, they returned to head-quarters. As they left the district, the mob, or a portion of it, gathered together again, and strung up afresh the lifeless bodies of the negroes.
A few hours later, Captain Brower, with a police force, was sent thither, to take down and remove the bodies of any negroes that might be still hanging. He did so without molestation.
Captain Howell's murderous fire on the mob came very near causing his death two days after. Having the curiosity to witness the scene of his struggle with the mob, he took his carriage, and drove over to it. A gang of seven or eight ruffians, seeing his uniform, cried out, "There's the man who fired on us here—let us hang him." Their shouts called others to the spot, and almost before the captain was aware of his danger, some fifty men were assembled, and at once made a dash at the driver, and ordered him to stop. Captain Howell, quickly drawing his revolver, pointed it at the driver, and ordered him to turn down Thirty-first Street, and give his horses the whip, or he would shoot him on the spot. The man obeying, lashed his horses into a run. At this moment the crowd was all around the carriage, and one man was climbing up behind, when he fell and was run over. A shower of stones and brick-bats followed, breaking in the panels of the carriage, and narrowly missing the captain's head.
One stone struck an old wound in his side, and for a moment paralyzed his arm. The crowd with yells and shouts followed after, when he turned and emptied his revolver at them through the back window, which brought them to a halt. Colonel Mott had a similar escape the day before. Passing down one of the avenues in a carriage, he was recognized by some of the rioters, who immediately assailed him with stones, and fired at him. One of the bullets passed through the cushion on which he was sitting.