MINISTER
(voice-over)
For I have laid me down on holy ground, and in the darkest hour I have lifted mine eyes unto the hills and there I have seen salvation….
EXT. A BLACK BAPTIST CHURCH—SAME DAY
A sad CONGREGATION files out of the church, carrying a casket.
CUT TO:
Two small BOYS, one white and one black, standing on a corner watching the funeral processions.
EXT. A TENEMENT BUILDING—SAME DAY
A group of roughly dressed YOUNG WHITE MEN is carrying a casket down a flight of wooden steps. A PRIEST walks in front and past a group of sad-faced WOMEN. One of them turns abruptly away.
CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of her profile; we recognize MAEVE.
FADE OUT
FADE IN
INT. THE PEACOCK INN—SAME DAY
JOHN, ELLEN, and CLAIRE are gathered around a table. There is bowl of fruit on the table illuminated by the slanting rays of the afternoon sun. JOHN is cleaning the bottom of a copper pot. ELLEN and CLAIRE sit as if they are tired.
CLAIRE
At least things are calmer now.
JOHN
They still haven’t brought the children back from Blackwell’s Island.
CLAIRE
Where are they going to bring them with the orphanage burned down?
JOHN
They took some to Weeksville, in Brooklyn. Brooklyn’s a good city.
ELLEN
The police are rounding up the last of the hooligans. Did you hear—?
(nervously as she wonders how all that has happened will affect her family)
Have you eaten anything?
JOHN
I’m not hungry.
ELLEN
(a beat)
Did you hear they were going house to house on Worth Street looking for stolen goods? And once the police get the goods, they’ll just end up in a different house. I don’t trust the police any more than I did the toughs in the street. But they’ll not be rioting in the streets of New York for a while. Leastways those who know the difference between a duck and a spade.
JOHN
And life goes on.
CLAIRE
Priscilla was mixed about leaving today. She was sad going to Connecticut, even for the while, but relieved not to be afraid of walking down a street. It’s sad to think of how we were just dancing down these same streets on the Fourth of July.
Do you think that you can have another talk with Mr. Valentine, now that things are quiet?
JOHN
He was clear when he spoke to me the first time, and clearer yesterday when I asked him if I could add more fish to the dinner menu. He looked me in the eye…. He looked me in the eye and said that I would have to consult the new owners.
I asked him if he didn’t mean the new white owners, even though they made an offer that was less than ours? He said he had an obligation to the community. Then he looked away. Just looked away.
SLOW DISSOLVE
INT. NASSAU HALL LIBRARY, PRINCETON
ROBERT VAN VORST sits at a desk, talking to two older STUDENTS who stand near him. After a brief conversation, the two leave and ROBERT picks up his pen and begins writing.
ROBERT
(voice-over)
Dear Claire,
Well, I’m firmly ensconced (a new word) at Princeton now. I haven’t made any real friends, and it’s quite strange to be only in the company of boys all the time. We are not supposed to talk about the war, but that is really all that we talk about when someone is not arguing about religion, which is also a less than temperate topic here. Some of the Southern boys have actually brought their Negroes with them as servants. Living in New Jersey, they have to be free, of course, but I sense a kind of understanding that makes them somewhat less than completely free.
Oh, how I miss our running down to the docks and watching the ships come in. We study geography and learn of many of the places from where the ships sail, but I believe it more fun to imagine the places than to be burdened with actual knowledge.
I also miss your laughing. It always seemed that you laughed a lot, and that made me feel good even on the gloomiest of days.
Father writes me dutifully once every two weeks, giving me parental advice. Sometimes the other boys compare their letters from home, and it is amazing how similar they all are. He tells me that the best guess is that the South will lose the war and that will make an end to slavery. I hope that is true because the words of the founding fathers—did you know they sometimes met at Princeton?—did promote freedom for all peoples.
I wrote to Priscilla in Connecticut but have received no reply. It has never occurred to me before to ask if she can read. Some of the Southern men say that Negroes (they never actually use that term unless we are in class) are gifted storytellers and only pretend to be reading.
If she visits New York and you see her, you will have to give her my regards and let me know how she is doing.
Love to your family,
Robert Van Vorst
EXT. A HOUSE IN MIDDLETOWN, CONNECTICUT
Two middle-aged WHITE WOMEN are talking by a white picket fence. A YOUNG BLACK WOMAN walks down the path, smiles, and nods toward the WHITE WOMEN before entering the house.
FIRST WHITE WOMAN
They are such lovely people.
SECOND WHITE WOMAN
You would hardly know they were Negroes. Of course, you can see them. I mean, they don’t act like Negroes, do they?
INT. A SMALL ROOM IN THE HOUSE—SAME DAY (CONTINUOUS)
We see a figure sitting at a small table in front of the window. From her POV we see the WHITE WOMEN still talking at the picket fence. The camera moves so that we see the face of PRISCILLA as she picks up a pen and begins to write. The camera is focused sometimes on the paper before her and sometimes on the view from the window.
PRISCILLA
(voice-over)
Dear Claire,
We are settled now here in Middletown. Mother is still very much upset in a noisy sort of way but I fear most for Father. He is so quiet. At night he often sits by himself in the parlor. There’s no talking to him, for he only answers in grunts. I think I know what he is feeling. The business that we worked so hard to build in New York was torn down so quickly during the riots.
Claire, I miss you so much. I want to run all the way to New York and throw my arms around you the way we used to do. Did you read in the papers about how our colored soldiers are doing? I knew that after the wonderful showing of the 54th Massachusetts in South Carolina, they would all do well. A woman down the street knew the family of Colonel Shaw, who was killed with the 54th. All the papers speak of how brave our soldiers have been and what a difference they are making in this terrible war. Father says they should have been the ones sent to New York to calm the streets.
We do sometimes get the papers from New York, but they arrive a week late, if at all. That’s great fun because the local papers report the same news and you can compare the accounts.
I wonder if you will ever visit me here. The house we have rented is quite large, and our neighbors seem to be of a decent sort. There aren’t that many black people here. I never thought that sort of thing would matter, but now I actually count them.
I have received two letters from Robert, which I have not answered. It’s is almost as if I have forgotten how to speak to him, which I think is crazy. I know I will answer him, but I want to say something happy and wonderful and it seems that all the happy and wonderful things ended in the summer.
I think it will be hard to maintain our friendship through letters, but in my heart I will always be your friend. I cannot wait until we are together again and sharing a laugh and a hug.
The Lord bless you and keep you, sweet Claire. The Lord make His face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto you. And give you peace. And give you peace.
Your best friend (until you find a husband),
Priscilla
EX
T. THE STREETS OF NEW YORK
The camera pans the same streets at the opening of the film, but this time it stops now and again on boarded-up buildings, a few charred remains of tenements and, now and again, on doorways upon which there is placed a black wreath.
CUT TO:
LONG SHOT of the Peacock Inn. The camera zooms in slowly, pauses for a moment on the window, and then moves up to another window on the second floor.
INT. CLAIRE’S ROOM—SAME DAY (CONTINUOUS)
CLAIRE sits on the bed with a portable writing desk propped up on pillows. We hear her voice-over as she writes.
CLAIRE
(voice-over)
Dear Priscilla,
Father’s changed again because of Mother’s condition. She’s developed a cough, which we both think needs watching and so we’ll stay in New York for a while. Robert has written me two letters which express his excitement at school. I think he’s equally excited to be away from his dreadfully stuffy parents.
We see more and more freed slaves from the South. The poor dears come into the city and they are so lost and uneasy. They are also badly treated, I’m afraid. Priscilla, I am convinced that once this war is over there will be no more people held in chains. But I wonder if there will be a new bondage. Will we be trapped in our skins, forever held to be different because we are not white? And what wars will free us from that distinction? Before the riots, Mr. Valentine looked upon us as the caretakers of his property and was pleased with us. Now he looks at us as if we started the trouble, as if our very presence as Negroes was the difference.
Before those four terrible days, I looked beyond skin and saw people. But it was our skin that made us targets, not our hearts. I am slow to come around to being the old Claire again, but I think she lurks somewhere within me.
(we hear the soft sounds of “The Black Rose”) Priscilla, we can’t go back again. Maybe the three of us—you, me and Robert—back in school were seeing things with the eyes of children then. Perhaps our innocence is forever gone. But sitting with my mum and working on the quilt that you and I started, and seeing my father get up and push on despite his disappointment, I think that if we can’t go back, then we should try even harder to go forward. And I do want to go forward, to a place where loving someone because they have a gentle smile and a friendly hello is as easy as it once was.
I see Maeve now and again. I think she truly loved Liam and misses him terribly. Life hasn’t been easy for her, as it hasn’t been easy for many of the poor folks in these streets. We share a word or two of little importance and sometimes even a smile. We go on with our lives. We are not comfortable with each other, but neither do we hate each other and that’s good.
Do write Robert. I think he will love to hear from you. But write me much, much more, because I adore you so.
Your true friend,
and with all my love and all my heart,
Claire
The music rises as the camera pulls away from CLAIRE and continues through to the last dissolve.
EXT. THE PEACOCK INN
EXT. THE STREETS OF LOWER NEW YORK
EXT. GULLS IN SILHOUETTE OVER THE HARBOR
The End
[Time Line of the events leading to the New York Draft Riots of 1863]
1619: First Africans brought to North American English colonies as slaves
1775–1783: The American Revolutionary War
1776: The Declaration of Independence
1789: Despite opposition from some Americans, the newly ratified Constitution of the United States accommodates slavery. The importation of slaves is banned as of January 1, 1808, but slavery is still legal.
1827: Slavery is abolished in New York State
1845–1851: The Great Irish Famine. More than one million people die of disease and starvation in Ireland, and another million emigrate to the United States, Canada, Great Britain, and elsewhere. Many of the Irish come to New York, where, as poor immigrants, they settle in Lower Manhattan.
November 6, 1860: Abraham Lincoln is elected President. Many in the slave states see him as pushing toward abolition of slavery in the United States.
December 1860–June 1861: South Carolina secedes from the United States and is followed over the next few months by Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas. Later, Arkansas, North Carolina, Tennessee, and Virginia joined the Confederacy.
February 1861: The Confederate Government is formed.
April 12, 1861: The American Civil War begins with a Confederate attack on Fort Sumter.
By January 1863: As the war rages on, mostly in the Southern states, a steady stream of blacks attach themselves to the Union Army or escape north. While few reach New York City, rumors precede them, and the city is filled with talk of thousands entering the city and competing for the few available jobs.
January 1, 1863: Lincoln issues the Emancipation Proclamation, declaring that most slaves in the areas of rebellion are free in the eyes of the federal government.
March 3, 1863: Lincoln signs the first conscription act in U.S. history, authorizing the president to draft “all able-bodied male citizens of the United States, and persons of foreign birth who shall have declared on oath their intention to become citizens…between the ages of twenty and forty-five years….” A later section of this law stated “That any person drafted…may…furnish an acceptable substitute to take his place in the draft; or he may pay…such a sum, not exceeding three hundred dollars…for the procuration of such substitute.”
July 1–3, 1863: Battle of Gettysburg. In this bloodiest battle of the Civil War, the tide of the war turns in favor of the Union. Lincoln decides that it would be a good time to enact the conscription law he felt was necessary. Several New York regiments are at Gettysburg.
July 11, 1863: First draft drawing occurs in New York City, without incident. The provision of the draft allowing draftees to be exempted by providing a substitute or paying $300 was particularly galling to the poor Irish.
Monday, July 13, 1863: Second draft drawing occurs in New York City. A crowd, led by a company of volunteer firemen and consisting largely of poor Irish immigrants, attacks the Provost Marshal’s Office. As the violence spreads, blacks and property became targets. The Colored Orphan Asylum is burned down.
Tuesday, July 14, 1863: Rioters return to the streets and the violence continues. Militia ordered into New York City, including the 74th and 65th National Guard, and the vaunted Seventh Regiment, among others.
Wednesday, July 15, 1863: Draft is suspended. Violence begins to subside as militias begin to arrive and suppress rioting.
Thursday, July 16, 1863: More militias arrive. At a final confrontation near Gramercy Park, many rioters die.
April 9, 1865: General Robert E. Lee surrenders to General Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox Court House.
April 14, 1865: President Lincoln is shot by John Wilkes Booth at Ford’s Theatre and dies the next morning.
May 1865: American Civil War ends. Remaining Confederate forces surrender, and the United States is reunited.
December 6, 1865: Thirteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution is ratified, abolishing slavery.
July 9, 1868: Fourteenth Amendment is ratified, conferring citizenship on everyone born or naturalized in the United States.
February 3, 1870: The Fifteenth Amendment is ratified, conferring voting rights without regard to race, color, or previous servitude. Gender is not mentioned.
[Author’s Note]
It was the bloodiest civil disturbance in American history. Four terrible days in July of 1863 that would leave hundreds dead and injured and forever change the face of New York City. How could this happen in the largest city of North America? And what would it mean for not only the participants but also for generations to follow?
The New York City Draft Riots nearly changed the course of American history. They definitely changed the hearts and minds of the people who lived and worked in our nation’s busiest city. But how could so
much blood run down the streets of Broadway and Fifth Avenue when the real conflict, the Civil War, was being fought hundreds of miles away?
There is what we study as “history,” and then there is the history behind that history, which we must know to understand what happened. The causes of the New York City Draft Riots begin in 1619, when the first Africans were brought across the Atlantic as slaves. These unfortunates, captured along the West Coast of Africa, worked in the cotton fields of Georgia and Alabama, in the rice paddies of South Carolina, and in the tobacco fields of Virginia and Kentucky. But they also worked in the Dutch colony of New Amsterdam. They built fortifications and houses; they cleared lands. Some managed to earn, or were given, their freedom. Others languished in slavery until their deaths. In 1991 a construction crew found more than four hundred graves of African Americans on Elk Street in Manhattan. That site is now known as the African Burial Ground.
While slavery was primarily a Southern institution, the slave trade and its products offered profits to businesspeople throughout the land, even in New York.
Blacks, free and slave, worked in New York City in many capacities before the Civil War. Some became very successful, while others lived the demeaning life typical of the lowest economic groups. Slavery was not popular in New York, and the state ended it completely in 1827. In that same year, John B. Russwurm and the Reverend Samuel Cornish, two black New York City residents, produced Freedom’s Journal, the first newspaper published by African Americans in the United States. Black schools were opened and blacks began to run their own businesses.
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