THE reader has already discovered that I have not attempted anythingapproaching a detailed history of the dreadful days of the riot.I merely hope to give a somewhat correct impression of the hopes,fears, and passions which swayed men's minds and controlledor directed their action. Many of the scenes are too horrible tobe described, and much else relating to the deeds and policy ofrecognized leaders belongs to the sober page of history. The citywas in awful peril, and its destruction would have crippled thegeneral government beyond all calculation. Unchecked lawlessnessin New York would soon have spread to other centres. That cool,impartial historian, the Comte de Paris, recognized the danger inhis words: "Turbulent leaders were present in the large cities ofthe East, which contained all the elements for a terrible insurrection.This insurrection was expected to break out in New York, despiteLee's defeat: one may judge what it might have been had Lee achieveda victory."
With the best intentions the administration had committed many graveerrors,--none more so, perhaps, than that of ordering the draft tobe inaugurated at a time when the city was stripped of its militia.
Now, however, it only remained for the police and a few hundredsof the military to cope with the result of that error,--a recklessmob of unnumbered thousands, governed by the instinct to plunderand destroy.
When the sun dawned in unclouded splendor on the morning of the14th of July, a superficial observer, passing through the greaterpart of the city, would not have dreamed that it could become abattle-ground, a scene of unnumbered and untold outrages, duringthe day. It was hard for multitudes of citizens, acquainted withwhat had already taken place, to believe in the continuance ofsuch lawlessness. In large districts there was an effort to carryon business as usual. In the early hours vehicles of every kindrattled over the stony pavement, and when at last Merwyn awoke,the sounds that came through his open windows were so natural thatthe events of the preceding day seemed but a distorted dream. Thestern realities of the past and the future soon confronted him,however, and he rang and ordered breakfast at once.
Hastily disguising himself as he had done before, he again summonedhis faithful servant. This man's vigilance had enabled him toadmit his master instantly the night before. Beyond the assurancethat all was well and safe Merwyn had not then listened to a word,yielding to the imperative craving for sleep and rest. These,with youth and the vigor of a strong, unvitiated constitution, hadrestored him wonderfully, and he was eager to enter on the perilsand duties of the new day. His valet and man-of-all-work told himthat he had been at pains to give the impression that the familywas away and the house partially dismantled.
"It wouldn't pay ye," he had said to a band of plunderers, "to botherwith the loikes of this house when there's plenty all furnished."
With injunctions to maintain his vigilance and not to be surprisedif Merwyn's absence was prolonged, the young man hastened away,paving no heed to entreaties to remain and avoid risks.
It was still early, but the uneasy city was waking, and the streetswere filling with all descriptions of people. Thousands wereescaping to the country; thousands more were standing in their doorsor moving about, seeking to satisfy their curiosity; while in thedisaffected districts on the east and the west side the hosts ofthe mob were swarming forth for the renewal of the conflict, nowinspired chiefly by the hope of plunder. Disquiet, anxiety, fear,anger, and recklessness characterized different faces, accordingto the nature of their possessors; but as a rule even the mostdesperate of the rioters were singularly quiet except when underthe dominion of some immediate and exciting influence.
In order to save time, Merwyn had again hired a hack, and, seatedwith the driver, he proceeded rapidly, first towards the EastRiver, and then, on another street, towards the Hudson. His eyes,already experienced, saw on every side the promise of another bloodyday. He was stopped and threatened several times, for the rioterswere growing suspicious, fully aware that detectives were amongthem, but he always succeeded in giving some plausible excuse. Atlast, returning from the west side, the driver refused to carryhim any longer, and gave evidence of sympathy with the mob.
Merwyn quietly showed him the butt of a revolver, and said, "Youwill drive till I dismiss you."
The man yielded sullenly, and Merwyn alighted near Mr. Vosburgh'sresidence, saying to his Jehu, "Your course lies there," pointingeast,--and he rapidly turned a corner.
As Merwyn had surmised, the man wheeled his horses with the purposeof following and learning his destination. Observing this eagerquest he sprung out upon him from a doorway and said, "If you trythat again I'll shoot you as I would a dog." The fellow now tookcounsel of discretion.
Going round the block to make sure he was not observed, Merwynreached the residence of Mr. Vosburgh just as that gentleman wasrising from his breakfast, and received a cordial welcome.
"Why, Merwyn," he exclaimed, "you look as fresh as a June daisythis morning."
The young fellow had merely bowed to Marian, and now said, "Icannot wonder at your surprise, remembering the condition in whichI presented myself last night."
"Condition? I do not understand."
Marian laughed, as she said: "Papa came in about midnight in scarcelybetter plight. In brief, you were both exhausted, and with goodreason."
"But you did not tell me, Marian--"
"No," she interrupted; "nothing but a life-and-death emergencyshould have made me tell you anything last night."
"Why, our little girl is becoming a soldier and a strategist.I think you had better make your report over again, Mr. Merwyn;"and he drew out a fuller account of events than had been giventhe evening before, also the result of the young man's morningobservations.
Marian made no effort to secure attention beyond offering Merwyna cup of coffee.
"I have breakfasted," he said, coldly.
"Take it, Merwyn, take it," cried Mr. Vosburgh. "Next to courage,nothing keeps up a soldier better than coffee. According to yourown view we have another hard day before us."
Merwyn complied, and bowed his thanks.
"Now for plans," resumed Mr. Vosburgh. "Are you going to policeheadquarters again?"
"Direct from here."
"I shall be there occasionally, and if you learn anything important,leave me a note. If I am not there and you can get away, come here.Of course I only ask this as of a friend and loyal man. You cansee how vitally important it is that the authorities at Washingtonshould be informed. They can put forth vast powers, and will do soas the necessity is impressed upon them. If we can only hold ourown for a day or two the city will be full of troops. Thereforeremember that in aiding me you are helping the cause even morethan by fighting with the best and bravest, as you did yesterday.You recognize this fact, do you not? I am not laying any constrainton you contrary to your sense of duty and inclination."
"No, sir, you are not. I should be dull indeed did I not perceivethat you are burdened with the gravest responsibilities. Whatis more, your knowledge guides, in a measure, the strong nationalhand, and I now believe we shall need its aid."
"That's it, that's the point. Therefore you can see why I am eagerto secure the assistance of one who has the brains to appreciatethe fact so quickly and fully. Moreover, you are cool, and seem tounderstand the nature of this outbreak as if you had made a studyof the mobs."
"I have, and I have been preparing for this one, for I knew thatit would soon give me a chance to prove that I was not a coward."
Marian's cheeks crimsoned.
"No more of that, if you please," said Mr. Vosburgh, gravely. "Whileit is natural that you should feel strongly, you must rememberthat both I and my daughter have asked your pardon, and that youyourself admitted that we had cause for misjudging you. We havebeen prompt to make amends, and I followed you through yesterday'sfight at some risk to see that you did not fall into the hands ofstrangers, if wounded. I could have learned all about the fightat a safer distance. You are now showing the best qualities of asoldier. Add to them a soldier's full and generous forgiveness whena wrong i
s atoned for,--an unintentional wrong at that. We trustyou implicitly as a man of honor, but we also wish to work withyou as a friend."
Mr. Vosburgh spoke with dignity, and the young fellow's face flushedunder the reproof in his tone.
"I suppose I have become morbid on the subject," he said, with someembarrassment. "I now ask your pardon, and admit that the expressionwas in bad taste, to say the least."
"Yes, it was, in view of the evident fact that we now esteem andhonor you as a brave man. I would not give you my hand in friendshipand trust concerning matters vital to me were this not so."
Merwyn took the proffered hand with a deep flush of pleasure.
"Having learned the bitterness of being misjudged," said Marian,quietly, "Mr. Merwyn should be careful how he misjudges others."
"That's a close shot, Merwyn," said Mr. Vosburgh, laughing.
Their guest started and bent a keen glance on the girl's averted face,and then said, earnestly: "Miss Vosburgh, your father has spokenfrankly to me and I believe him. Your words, also, are significantif they mean anything whatever. I know well what is beforeme to-day,--the chances of my never seeing you again. I can onlymisjudge you in one respect. Perhaps I can best make everythingclear to your father as well as yourself by a single question. IfI do my duty through these troubles, Mr. Vosburgh being the judge,can you give me some place among those friends who have already,and justly, won your esteem? I know it will require time. I havegiven you far more cause for offence than you have given me, but Iwould be glad to fight to-day with the inspiration of hope ratherthan that of recklessness."
Her lip trembled as she faltered: "You would see that you havesuch a place already were you not equally prone to misjudge. Do youthink me capable of cherishing a petty spite after you had provedyourself the peer of my other friends?"
"That I have not done, and I fear I never can. You have seen thatI have been under a strong restraint which is not removed and whichI cannot explain. To wear, temporarily, a policeman's uniform isprobably the best I can hope for."
"I was thinking of men, Mr. Merwyn, not uniforms. I have nothingwhatever to do with the restraint to which you refer. If my fathertrusts you, I can. Do not think of me so meanly as to believe Icannot give honest friendship to the man who is risking his lifeto aid my father. Last evening you said I had been off my guard.I must and will say, in self-defence, that if you judge me by thathour of weakness and folly you misjudge me."
"Then we can be friends," he said, holding out his hand, his facefull of the sunshine of gladness.
"Why not?" she replied, laughing, and taking his hand,--"that is,on condition that there is no more recklessness."
Mr. Vosburgh rose and said, with a smile: "Now that there is completeamity in the camp we will move on the enemy. I shall go with you,Merwyn, to police-headquarters;" and he hastily began his preparation.
Left alone with Marian a moment, Merwyn said, "You cannot know howyour words have changed everything for me."
"I fear the spirit of the rioters is unchanged, and that you areabout to incur fearful risks."
"I shall meet them cheerfully, for I have been under a thick cloudtoo long not to exult in a little light at last."
"Ready?" said Mr. Vosburgh.
Again Merwyn took her hand and looked at her earnestly as he said,"Good-by, Heaven bless you, whatever happens to me;" and he wonderedat the tears that came into her eyes.
Making their way through streets which were now becoming thronged, Mr.Vosburgh and Merwyn reached police headquarters without detention.They found matters there vastly changed for the better: thewhole police force well in hand; and General Harvey Brown, a mostcapable officer, in command of several hundred soldiers. Moreover,citizens, in response to a call from the mayor, were being enrolledin large numbers as special policemen. Merwyn was welcomed by his oldcompanions under the command of Inspector Carpenter, and providedwith a badge which would indicate that he now belonged to the policeforce.
Telegrams were pouring in announcing trouble in different sections.Troops were drawn up in line on Mulberry Street, ready for instantaction, and were harangued by their officers in earnest words whichwere heeded and obeyed, for the soldiers vied with the police incourage and discipline.
Soon after his arrival Merwyn found himself marching with a forceof policemen two hundred and fifty strong, led by Carpenter andfollowed by a company of the military. The most threatening gatheringswere reported to be in Second and Third Avenues.
The former thoroughfare, when entered, was seen to be filled as faras the eye could reach, the number of the throng being estimatedat not less than ten thousand. At first this host was comparativelyquiet, apparently having no definite purpose or recognized leaders.Curiosity accounted for the presence of many, the hope of plunderfor that of more; but there were hundreds of ferocious-looking menwho thirsted for blood and lawless power. A Catholic priest, tohis honor be it said, had addressed the crowd and pleaded for peaceand order; but his words, although listened to respectfully, weresoon forgotten. What this section of the mob, which was now musteringin a score of localities, would have done first it is impossibleto say; for as it began to be agitated with passion, ready toprecipitate its brutal force on any object that caught its attention,the cry, "Cops and soldiers coming," echoed up the avenue fromblock to block, a long, hoarse wave of sound.
Carpenter, with his force, marched quietly through the crowd from21st to 32d Street, paying no heed to the hootings, yells, and vileepithets that were hurled from every side. Dirty, ragged women,with dishevelled hair and bloated faces, far exceeded the men in theuse of Billingsgate; and the guardians of the law, as they passedthrough those long lines of demoniacal visages, scowling with hate,and heard their sulphurous invectives, saw what would be their fateif overpowered. It was a conflict having all the horrors of Indianwarfare, as poor Colonel O'Brien, tortured to death through thelong hot afternoon of that same day, learned in agony.
The mob in the street had not ventured on anything more offensivethan jeers and curses, but when Carpenter's command reached 32dStreet it was assailed in a new and deadly manner. Rioters, wellprovided with stones and brick-bats, had stationed themselves on theroofs, and, deeming themselves secure, began to rain the missileson the column below, which formed but too conspicuous a mark. Thiswas a new and terrible danger which Merwyn had not anticipated, andhe wondered how Carpenter would meet the emergency. Comrades werefalling around him, and a stone grazed his shoulder which wouldhave brained him had it struck his head.
Their leader never hesitated a moment. The command, "Halt, chargethose houses, brain every devil that resists," rang down the line.
The crowd on the sidewalk gave way before the deeply incensed andresolute officers of the law. Merwyn, with a half-dozen others,seized a heavy pole which had been cut down in order to destroytelegraphic communication, and, using it as a ram, crashed in thedoor of a tall tenement-house on the roof of which were a score ofrioters, meantime escaping their missiles as by a miracle. Rushingin, paying no heed to protests, and clubbing those who resisted, hekept pace with the foremost. In his left hand, however, he carriedhis trusty revolver, for he did not propose to be assassinated byskulkers in the dark passage-ways. Seeing a man levelling a gunfrom a dusky corner, he fired instantly, and man and gun dropped.As the guardians of the law approached the scuttle, having foughttheir way thither, the ruffians stood ready to hurl down bricks,torn from the chimneys; but two or three well-aimed shots clearedthe way, and the policemen were on the roof, bringing down a manwith every blow. One brawny fellow rushed upon Merwyn, but receivedsuch a stroke on his temple that he fell, rolled off the roof, andstruck the pavement, a crushed and shapeless mass.
The assaults upon the other houses were equally successful, butthe fight was a severe one, and was maintained for nearly an hour.The mob was appalled by the fate of their friends, and looked onin sullen, impotent anger.
Having cleared the houses, the police re-formed in the street, andmarched away to other turbulent
districts.
Only the military were left, and had formed about a block furtherto the north. Beyond the feeble demonstration of the invalid corpsthe rioters, as yet, had had no experience with the soldiery. Thatpolicemen would use their clubs was to them a matter of course, butthey scarcely believed that cannon and musketry would be employed.Moreover, they were maddened and reckless that so many of theirbest and bravest had been put hors de combat. The brief paralysiscaused by the remorseless clubs of the police passed, and likea sluggish monster, the mob, aroused to sudden fury, pressed uponthe soldiery, hurling not only the vilest epithets but every missileon which they could lay their hands. Colonel O'Brien, in commandfor the moment, rode through the crowd, supposing he could overawethem by his fearless bearing; but they only scoffed at him, andthe attack upon his men grew more bold and reckless.
The limit of patience was passed. "Fire!" he thundered, and thehowitzers poured their deadly canister point-blank into the throng.At the same time the soldiers discharged their muskets. Not onlymen, but women fell on every side, one with a child in her arms.
A warfare in which women stand an equal chance for death and woundsis a terrible thing, and yet this is usually an inseparable featureof mob-fighting. However, setting aside the natural and instinctivehorror at injuring a woman, the depraved creatures in the streetswere deserving of no more sympathy than their male abettors inevery species of outrage. They did their utmost to excite and keepalive the passions of the hour. Many were armed with knives, anddid not hesitate to use them, and when stronger hands broke in thedoors of shops and dwellings they swarmed after,--the most greedyand unscrupulous of plunderers. If a negro man, woman, or childfell into their hands, none were more brutal than the unsexed hagsof the mob.
If on this, and other occasions, they had remained in their homesthey would not have suffered, nor would the men have been soferocious in their violence. They were the first to yield to panic,however, and now their shrieks were the loudest and their effortsto escape out of the deadly range of the guns the most frantic.In a few moments the avenue was cleared, and the military marchedaway, leaving the dead and wounded rioters where they had fallen,as the police had done before. Instantly the friends of the sufferersgathered them up and carried them into concealment.
This feature, from the first, was one of the most markedcharacteristics of the outbreak. The number of rioters killed andwounded could be only guessed at approximately, for every effortwas made to bury the bodies secretly, and keep the injured inseclusion until they either died or recovered. Almost before a fightwas over the prostrate rioters would be spirited away by friendsor relatives on the watch.
The authorities were content to have it so, for they had no placeor time for the poor wretches, and the police understood that theywere to strike blows that would incapacitate the recipients forfurther mischief.
In the same locality which had witnessed his morning fight, ColonelO'Brien, later in the day, met a fate too horrible to be described.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
DESPERATE FIGHTING.
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