The Great Riots of New York, 1712 to 1873
by Joel Tyler Headley · English · Gutenberg #6856 · 497,462 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Great Riots of New York, 1712 to 1873
Author: Joel Tyler Headley
Release date: November 1, 2004 [eBook #6856]
Most recently updated: June 22, 2013
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GREAT RIOTS OF NEW YORK, 1712 TO 1873 ***
Produced by Richard Prairie, David Moynihan, Charles Franks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
THE
GREAT RIOTS
OF
NEW YORK
1712 to 1873
INCLUDING A FULL AND COMPLETE ACCOUNT
OF THE
FOUR DAYS' DRAFT RIOT OF 1863
By HON. J.T. HEADLEY
TO
THE METROPOLITAN POLICE,
WHOSE
UNWAVERING FIDELITY AND COURAGE IN THE PAST,
ARE A SURE GUARANTEE OF WHAT THEY WILL DO
FOR
NEW YORK CITY IN THE FUTURE,
THIS WORK
IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED
BY
THE AUTHOR.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
1. BURNING OF THE PROVOST-MARSHAL'S OFFICE
2. THE OLD NEW YORK HOSPITAL, SCENE OF THE DOCTORS' RIOT
3. COLORED ORPHAN ASYLUM (ERECTED SINCE THE RIOT)
4. HEADQUARTERS METROPOLITAN POLICE
5. HEADQUARTERS METROPOLITAN FIRE DEPARTMENT
6. FORT LAFAYETTE, NEW YORK HARBOR
7. FORT HAMILTON, NEW YORK HARBOR
8. SCENE IN LEXINGTON AVENUE
9. ATTACK ON THE TRIBUNE OFFICE
10. FIGHT BETWEEN RIOTERS AND MILITIA
11. HANGING AND BURNING A NEGRO IN CLARKSON STREET
12. THE DEAD SERGEANT IN TWENTY-SECOND STREET
13. DRAGGING COLONEL O'BRIEN'S BODY IN THE STREET
14. BURNING SECOND AVENUE ARMORY
15. RECEIVING DEAD BODIES AT THE MORGUE
PREFACE.
The materials for the descriptions of the Negro and Doctors' Riots
were gathered from the Archives of the Historical Society; those of the
immediately succeeding ones, from the press of the times.
For the scenes and incidents that occurred on the stage and behind
the curtain in the Astor-place Opera Riot, I am indebted to a pamphlet
entitled "_Behind the Scenes_."
The materials for the history of the Draft Riots were obtained in
part from the Daily Press, and in part from the City and Military
Authorities, especially Commissioner Acton, Seth Hawley, General Brown,
and Colonel Frothingham, who succeeded in putting them down.
Mr. David Barnes, who published, some ten years ago, a pamphlet entitled
"The Metropolitan Police," kindly furnished me facts relating to the
Police Department of great value, and which saved me much labor and
time.
Much difficulty has been encountered in gathering together, from various
quarters, the facts spread over a century and a half, but it is believed
that everything necessary to a complete understanding of the subjects
treated of has been given, consistent with the continuity and interest
of the narrative.
Of course some minor riots--a collection of mobs that were easily
dispersed by the police, and were characterized by no prolonged struggle
or striking incidents--are not mentioned.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Character of a City illustrated by Riots.--New Material for History of
Draft Riots.--History of the Rebellion incomplete without History of
them.--The Fate of the Nation resting on the Issues of the Struggle in
New York City.--The best Plan to adopt for Protection against Mobs.
CHAPTER II.
THE NEGRO RIOTS OF 1712-1741.
Almost impossible for the present Generation to comprehend its true
Character and Effect on the People.--Description of New York at that
Time.--The Negro Slaves.--The Negro Riot of 1712.--Description
of it.--The Winter of 1741.--Governor's House burned down.--Other
Fires.--Suspicion of the People.--Arrest and Imprisonment of the
Blacks.--Reward offered for the supposed Conspirators.--Alarm and Flight
of the Inhabitants.--Examination and Confession of Mary
Burton.--Peggy, the Newfoundland Beauty, and the Hughson Family.--The
Conspiracy.--Executions.--Fast.--Hughson's Hearing.--Hung in
Chains.--The Body, and that of a Negro, left to swing and rot in the
Air.--Strange Change in the Appearances of the Bodies.--The People
throng to look at them.--Negroes burned at the Stake.--Terrific
Spectacle.--Bloody Summer.--Execution of a Catholic Priest.--Strange
Scenes.--Upper Classes accused.--Executions stopped.--Reason of the
Panic.
CHAPTER III.
THE STAMP-ACT RIOT OF 1765.
Thorough Understanding of the Principles of Liberty by the People.--The
Stamp Act.--How viewed by the Colonists.--Colden strengthens Fort George
in Alarm.--Arrival of the Stamps.--How the News was received by the Sons
of Liberty.--A Bold Placard.--Stamp Distributor frightened.--Patriotic
Action of the Merchants.--Public Demonstration against the Stamp
Act.--Colden takes Refuge in the Fort.--Dare not fire on the
People.--The People at the Gate demand the Stamps.--Colden and Lord Bute
hung in Effigy.--Colden's Coach-house broken open.--The Images placed in
the Coach, and dragged with Shouts through the Streets.--Hung again in
Sight of the Fort.--A Bonfire made of the Fence around Bowling
Green, and the Governor's Carriages, while the Garrison look silently
on.--Prejudice against Coaches.--Major James' House sacked.--Great Joy
and Demonstration at the Repeal of the Stamp Act.--Celebration of the
King's Birthday.--Loyalty of the People.--Mutiny Act.--A Riot becomes a
Great Rebellion.
CHAPTER IV.
DOCTORS' RIOT, 1788.
Body-snatching.--Bodies dug up by Medical Students.--Excitement of the
People.--Effect of the Discovery of a human Limb from the Hospital.--Mob
ransack the Building.--Destruction of Anatomical Specimens.--Arrival
of Mayor, and Imprisonment of Students.--Second Day.--Examination
of Columbia College and Physicians' Houses.--Appeal of the Mayor and
distinguished Citizens to the Mob.--Mob attempt to break into Jail and
seize the Students.--The Fight.--The Military called out.--Beaten by the
Mob.--Larger Military Force called out.--Attacked by the Mob.--Deadly
Firing.--Great Excitement.--Flight of Doctors and Students.
CHAPTER V.
SPRING ELECTION RIOTS OF 1834.
Fatal Error in our Naturalization Laws.--Our Experiment of
Self-government not a fair one.--Fruit of giving Foreigners the Right
to Vote.--Bitter Feeling between Democrats and Whigs.--First Day of
Election.--Ships "Constitution" and "Veto."--Whigs driven from the
Polls.--Excitement.--Whigs determined to defend themselves.--Meeting
called.--Resolutions.--Second Day's Election.--Attack on the Frigate
"Constitution."--A Bloody Fight.--Mayor and Officers wounded.--Mob
triumphant.--Excitement of the Whigs.--The Streets blocked by fifteen
thousand enraged Whigs.--Military called out.--Occupy Arsenal and
City Hall all Night.--Result of the Election.--Excitement of the
Whigs.--Mass-meeting in Castle Garden.
CHAPTER VI.
ABOLITION RIOTS OF 1834 AND 1835.
The Slavery Question agitated.--The End, Civil War.--The
Results.--William Lloyd Garrison.--Feeling of the People on the
Subject.--First Attempt to call a Meeting of the Abolitionists in New
York.--Meeting in Chatham Street Chapel.--A Fight.--Mob take Possession
of Bowery Theatre.--Sacking of Lewis Tappan's House.--Fight between Mob
and Police.--Mobbing of Dr. Cox's Church, in Laight Street.--His
House broken into.--Street Barricaded.--Attack on Arthur Tappan's
Store.--Second Attack on Church in Laight Street.--Church sacked in
Spring Street.--Arrival of the Military.--Barricades carried.--Mr.
Ludlow's House entered.--Mob at Five Points.--Destruction of
Houses.--The City Military called out.--Mob overawed, and Peace
restored.--Five Points Riot.--Stone-cutters' Riot.
CHAPTER VII.
FLOUR RIOT OF 1837.
Starvation will always create a Riot.--Foreign Population easily aroused
against the Rich.--Severe Winter of 1836.--Scarcity of Flour.--Meeting
of Citizens called without Result.--Meeting called in the
Park.--Speeches.--Sacking of Hart & Co.'s Flour Store, in Washington
Street.--Strange Spectacle.--National Guards called out.--Disperse the
Mob.--Attack on Herrick's Flour Store.--Folly of the Riot.
CHAPTER VIII.
ASTOR-PLACE RIOTS, 1849.
Rivalry between Forrest and Macready.--Macready's Arrival in this
Country.--The Announcement of his Appearance at the Astor-place Opera
House, and Forrest at the Broadway Theatre the same Night posted Side
by Side.--Bowery Boys crowd the Opera House.--Anxiety of
the Managers.--Consultations and Dramatic Scenes behind the
Curtain.--Stamping of the People.--Scene on raising the Curtain.--Stormy
Reception of Macready.--Howled down.--Mrs. Pope driven from the Stage by
the Outrageous Language of the Mob.--Macready not allowed to go
on.--His foolish Anger.--Flees for his Life.--His Appearance the
Second Night.--Preparations to put down the Mob.--Exciting Scene in the
Theatre.--Terrific Scenes without.--Military arrive.--Attacked by the
Mob.--Patience of the Troops.--Effort to avoid Firing.--The Order
to Fire.--Terrific Scene.--Strange Conduct of Forrest.--Unpublished
Anecdote of General Scott.
CHAPTER IX.
POLICE RIOT--DEAD-RABBITS' RIOT--BREAD RIOT, 1857.
Creation of the Metropolitan District.--Collision between Mayor
Wood's Police and the Metropolitan Police.--Seventh Regiment called
out.--Dead-Rabbits' Riot.--Severe Fight between the Roach Guards and
Dead Rabbits.--Police driven back.--Barricades erected.--Military called
out.--Killed and Wounded.--Bread Riot.--Financial Distress.
CHAPTER X.
DRAFT RIOTS OF 1863.
Cause of the Riots.--The London _Times_.--Draft called a despotic
Measure.--The despotic Power given to Washington by Congress.--Despotic
Action sometimes Necessary, in order to save the Life of the
Nation.--The Rights of Government.--Drafting he Legitimate Way to raise
an Army--It is not Unequal or Oppressive.
CHAPTER XI.
Rights of Municipalities.--Interference of the Legislature with the City
Government.--Conflict between the Governor and Police Commissioners.--A
Wrong becomes a Practical Blessing.--Provost Marshals.--Riot not
anticipated.--Bad time to commence the Draft.--Preparations of
Superintendent Kennedy.--The Police System.--Attack on Provost Marshal
Captain Erhardt.--Telegrams of the Police.--Kennedy starts on a Tour of
Observation.
CHAPTER XII.
Commencement of the Mob.--Its Line of March.--Its immense Size.--Attacks
a Provost-marshal's Office, in Third Avenue.--Set on Fire.--Terrible
Struggle of Kennedy for his Life with the Mob.--Carried to Head-quarters
unconscious.--Acton's Preparations.--The Telegraph System.--Mob cutting
down Telegraph Poles.--Number of Despatches sent over the Wires during
the Riot.--Superintendent of Telegraph Bureau seized and held Prisoner
by the Mob.
CHAPTER XIII.
Soldiers beaten by the Mob.--Gallant Fight of Sergeant McCredie.--Mob
Triumphant.--Beat Police Officers unmercifully.--Fearful Scenes.--Fifty
thousand People block Third Avenue.--A whole Block of Houses
burning.--Attack on a Gun Factory.--Defeat of the Broadway
Squad.--Houses sacked in Lexington Avenue.--Telegraph
Dispatches.--Bull's Head Tavern burned.--Block on Broadway
burned.--Burning of the Negroes' Orphan Asylum.--Attack on Mayor
Opdyke's House.--A Crisis nobly met.--Gallant Fight and Victory of
Sergeant Carpenter.--A thrilling Spectacle.
CHAPTER XIV.
No Military in the City.--The Mayor calls on General Wool, commanding
Eastern Department, for Help.--Also on General Sandford.--General Wool
sends to General Brown, commanding Garrison in the Harbor, for U. S.
Troops.--Marines of the States appealed to for Troops.--General Brown
assumes Command.--Attack of Mob on the _Tribune_ Building.--Its severe
Punishment.--Government Buildings garrisoned.--Difficulty between
Generals Brown and Wool.--Head-quarters.--Police Commissioners' Office
Military Head-quarters.
CHAPTER XV.
Telegraph Bureau.--Its Work.--Skill and Daring and Success of its
Force.--Interesting Incidents.--Hairbreadth Escapes.--Detective
Force.--Its arduous Labors.--Its Disguises.--Shrewdness, Tact, and
Courage.--Narrow Escapes.--Hawley, the Chief Clerk.--His exhausting
Labors.
CHAPTER XVI.
DRAFT RIOT--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 Man 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.
CHAPTER XVII.
DRAFT RIOT--THIRD DAY.
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 Dispatches.--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.
CHAPTER XVIII.
DRAFT RIOT--FOURTH DAY.
Proclamations by the Governor and Mayor.--City districted.--Appearance
of the East Side of the City.--A small Squad of Soldiers chased into
a Foundry by the Mob.--Fierce Fight between the Mob and Military in
Twenty-ninth Street.--Soldiers driven from the Ground, leaving a dead
Sergeant behind.--Captain Putnam sent to bring the Body away.--Mows
down the Rioters with Canister.--Storms the Houses.--Utter Rout of
the Mob.--Colored Orphans and Negroes taken by Police to
Blackwell's Island.--Touching Scene.--Coming on of Night and a
Thunder-storm.--Returning Regiments.--Increased Force in the City to put
down Violence.--Archbishop Hughes offers to address the
Irish.--Curious Account of an Interview of a Lady with him and Governor
Seymour.--Strange Conduct of the Prelate.
CHAPTER XIX.
CLOSING SCENES.
Tranquil Morning.--Proclamation of the Mayor.--Mob cowed.--Plunderers
afraid of Detection.--Dirty Cellars crowded with rich Apparel,
Furniture, and Works of Art.--Archbishop Hughes' Address.--Useless
Efforts.--Acton's Forty-eight Hours without Sleep over.--Change in
Military Commanders in the City.--General Brown relinquishes his
Command.--True Words.--Noble Character and Behavior of the Troops and
Police.--General Brown's invaluable Services.
CHAPTER XX.
Continued Tranquillity.--Strange Assortment of Plunder gathered in the
Cellars and Shanties of the Rioters.--Search for it exasperates
the Irish.--Noble Conduct of the Sanitary Police.--Sergeant
Copeland.--Prisoners tried.--Damages claimed from the City.--Number
of Police killed.--Twelve hundred Rioters killed.--The Riot Relief
Fund.--List of Colored People killed.--Generals Wool and Sandford's
Reports.--Their Truthfulness denied.--General Brown vindicated.
CHAPTER XXI.
ORANGE RIOTS OF 1870 AND 1871.
Religious Toleration.--Irish Feuds.--Battle of Boyne
Water.--Orangemen.--Origin and Object of the Society.--A Picnic at Elm
Park.--Attacked by the Ribbonmen.--The Fight. After Scenes.--Riot
of 1871.--Conspiracy of the Irish Catholics to prevent a Parade of
Orangemen.--Forbidden by the City Authorities.--Indignation of
the People.--Meeting in the Produce Exchange.--Governor Hoffman's
Proclamation.--Morning of the 12th.--The Orangemen at Lamartine
Hall.--Attack on the Armories.--The Harpers threatened.--Exciting
Scenes around Lamartine Hall and at Police Head-quarters.--Hibernia
Hall cleared.--Attack on an Armory.--Formation of the Procession.--Its
March.--Attacked.--Firing of the Military without Orders.--Terrific
Scene.--The Hospitals and Morgue.--Night Scenes.--Number of killed and
wounded.--The Lesson.
THE GREAT RIOTS OF NEW YORK CITY.
CHAPTER I.
Character of a City illustrated by Riots.--New Material for History of
Draft Riots.--History of the Rebellion incomplete without History of
them.--The Fate of the Nation resting on the Issues of the Struggle in
New York City.--The best Plan to adopt for Protection against Mobs.
The history of the riots that have taken place in a great city from its
foundation, is a curious and unique one, and illustrates the peculiar
changes in tone and temper that have come over it in the course of
its development and growth. They exhibit also one phase of its moral
character--furnish a sort of moral history of that vast, ignorant,
turbulent class which is one of the distinguishing features of a
great city, and at the same time the chief cause of its solicitude and
anxiety, and often of dread.
The immediate cause, however, of my taking up the subject, was a request
from some of the chief actors in putting down the Draft Riots of
1863, to write a history of them. It was argued that it had never been
written, except in a detached and fragmentary way in the daily press,
which, from the hurried manner in which it was done, was necessarily
incomplete, and more or less erroneous.
It was also said, and truly, that those who, by their courage and
energy, saved the city, and who now would aid me not only officially,
but by their personal recollections and private memoranda, would soon
pass away, and thus valuable material be lost.
Besides these valid reasons, it was asserted that the history of the
rebellion was not complete without it, and yet no historian of that most
important event in our national life had given the riots the prominence
they deserved, but simply referred to them as a side issue, instead
of having a vital bearing on the fate of the war and the nation. On no
single battle or campaign did the destiny of the country hinge as upon
that short, sharp campaign carried on by General Brown and the Police
Commissioners against the rioters in the streets of New York, in the
second week of July, 1863. Losses and defeats in the field could be
and were repaired, but defeat in New York would in all probability have
ended the war. It is not necessary to refer to the immediate direct
effects of such a disaster on the army in the field, although it is
scarcely possible to over-estimate the calamitous results that would
have followed the instantaneous stoppage, even for a short time, of the
vast accumulations of provisions, ammunition, and supplies of all kinds,
that were on their way to the army through New York. Nor is it necessary
to speculate on the effect of the diversion of troops from the front
that such an event would have compelled, in order to recover so vital
a point. Washington had better be uncovered than New York be lost. One
thing only is needed to show how complete and irreparable the disaster
would have been; namely, the effect it would have had on the finances of
the country. With the great banking-houses and moneyed institutions of
New York sacked and destroyed, the financial credit of the country
would have broken down utterly. The crash of falling houses all over
the country that would have followed financial disaster here, would have
been like that of falling trees in a forest swept by a hurricane. Had
the rioters got complete possession of the city but for a single day,
their first dash would have been for the treasures piled up in its
moneyed institutions. Once in possession of these, they, like the mobs
of Paris, would have fired the city before yielding them up. In the
crisis that was then upon us, it would not have required a long stoppage
in this financial centre of the country to have effected a second
revolution. With no credit abroad and no money at home, the Government
would have been completely paralyzed. Not long possession of the city
was needed, but only swift destruction.
Doubtless the disastrous effects would have been increased tenfold,
if possible, by uprisings in other cities, which events showed were to
follow. Even partial success developed hostile elements slumbering in
various parts of the country, and running from Boston almost to the
extreme West.
In this view of the case, these riots assume a magnitude and importance
that one cannot contemplate without a feeling of terror, and the truth
of history requires that their proper place should be assigned them, and
those who put them down have an honorable position beside our successful
commanders and brave soldiers. It is also important, as a lesson for
the future, and naturally brings up the question, what are the best
measures, and what is the best policy for the city of New York to
adopt, in order to protect itself from that which to-day constitutes its
greatest danger--_mob violence?_ If it ever falls in ruins, the work
of destruction will commence and end within its own limits. We have a
police and city military which have been thought to be sufficient, but
experience has shown that though this provision may be ample to restore
law and order in the end, it works slowly, often unwisely, and always
with an unnecessary expenditure of life. In conversing with those of
largest experience and intelligence in the police department on this
subject of such great and growing importance, we are convinced, from
their statements and views, a vast improvement in this matter can be
made, while the cost to the city, instead of being increased, will be
lessened; that is, a cheaper, wiser, and more effectual plan than the
present one can be adopted. Of course this does not refer to mere local
disturbances, which the police force in the ordinary discharge of its
duties can quell, but to those great outbreaks which make it necessary
to call out the military. Not that there might not be exigencies in
which it would be necessary to resort, not only to the military of the
city, but to invoke the aid of neighboring States; for a riot may assume
the proportions of a revolution, but for such no local permanent remedy
can be furnished.
The objections to relying on the military, as we invariably do in case
of a large mob, are many. In the first place, it takes the best part
of a day to get the troops together, so that a mob, so far as they are
concerned, has time not only to waste and destroy for many hours, but
increase in strength and audacity. The members of the various regiments
are scattered all over the city, engaged in different occupations and
employments, and without previous notice being given, it is a long and
tedious process to get them to their respective headquarters and in
uniform. This wastes much and most valuable time. Besides, they are
compelled to reach the mustering place singly or in small groups, and
hence liable to be cut off or driven back by the mob, which in most
cases would know the place of rendezvous.
In the second place, the members are taken out from the mass of the
people, between whom there might be a strong sympathy in some particular
outbreak, which would impair their efficiency, and make them hesitate to
shoot down their friends and acquaintances.
In the third place, in ordinary peace times, these uniformed regiments
are not the steadiest or most reliable troops, as was witnessed in the
riots of 1863, as well as in those of the Astor Place in 1849.
They hesitate, or are apt to become hasty or disorganized in a close,
confused fight, and driven back. In the commencement of a riot, a defeat
of the military gives increased confidence, and indeed, power to a mob,
and snakes the sacrifice of life, in the end, far greater.
In the fourth place, clearing the streets does not always dissipate
a mob. A whole block of houses may become a fortress, which it
is necessary to storm before a permanent victory is gained.
Half-disciplined men, unaccustomed, and unskilled to such work, make
poor headway with their muskets through narrow halls, up stairways, and
through scuttle-holes.
In the fifth place, the military of the city cannot be called away from
their work for two or three days, to parade the city, without a heavy
expense, and hence the process is a costly one.
In the last place, the firing of these troops at the best is not very
judicious, and cannot be discriminating, so that those are shot down
often least culpable, and of least influence in the mob--in fact, more
lives usually are taken than is necessary.
The simplest, most efficient, and most economical plan would be to
select five hundred or more of the most courageous, experienced, and
efficient men from the police department, and form them into a separate
battalion, and have them drilled in such evolutions, manoeuvres, and
modes of attack or defence, as would belong to the work they were
set apart to do. A battery might be given them in case of certain
emergencies, and a portion carefully trained in its use. At a certain
signal of the bell, they should be required to hasten, without a
moment's delay, to their head-quarters. A mob could hardly be gathered
and commence work before this solid body of disciplined, reliable men
would be upon them. These five hundred men would scatter five thousand
rioters like chaff before them. It would be more efficient than two
entire regiments, even if assembled, and would be worth more than the
whole military of the city for the first half day.
Besides, clubs are better than guns. They take no time to load--they are
never discharged like muskets, leaving their owners for the time at the
mercy of the mob. Their volleys are incessant and perpetual, given
as long and fast as strong arms can strike. They are also more
discriminating than bullets, hitting the guilty ones first. Moreover,
they disable rather than kill--which is just as effectual, and far
more desirable. In addition to all this, being trained to one purpose,
instructed to one duty, a mob would be their natural enemies, and hence
sympathy with them in any cause almost impossible.
CHAPTER II.
THE NEGRO RIOTS OF 1712-1741.
Almost impossible for the present Generation to comprehend its true
Character and Effect on the People.--Description of New York at that
Time.--The Negro Slaves.--The Negro Riot of 1712.--Description
of it.--The Winter of 1741.--Governor's House burned down.--Other
Fires.--Suspicion of the People.--Arrest and Imprisonment of the
Blacks.--Reward offered for the supposed Conspirators.--Alarm and Flight
of the Inhabitants.--Examination and Confession of Mary
Burton.--Peggy, the Newfoundland Beauty, and the Hughson Family.--The
Conspiracy.--Executions.--Fast.--Hughson's Hearing.--Hung in
Chains.--The Body, and that of a Negro, left to swing and rot in the
Air.--Strange Change in the Appearances of the Bodies.--The People
throng to look at them.--Negroes burned at the Stake.--Terrific
Spectacle.--Bloody Summer.--Execution of a Catholic Priest.--Strange
Scenes.--Upper Classes accused.--Executions stopped.--Reason of the
Panic.
Probably no event of comparatively modern times--certainly none in our
history--has occurred so extraordinary in some of its phases, as the
negro riot of 1741. We cannot fully appreciate it, not merely because of
the incompleteness of some of its details, nor from the lapse of time,
but because of our inability to place ourselves in the position or state
of mind of the inhabitants of New York City at that period. We can no
more throw ourselves into the social condition, and feel the influences
of that time, than we can conceive the outward physical appearance of
the embryo metropolis. It is impossible to stand amid the whirl and
uproar of New York to-day, and imagine men ploughing, and sowing
grain, and carting hay into barns, where the City Hall now stands. The
conception of nearly all the city lying below the Park, above it farms
to Canal Street, beyond that clearings where men are burning brush and
logs to clear away the fallow, and still farther on, towards Central
Park, an unbroken wilderness, is so dim and shadowy, that we can hardly
fix its outlines. Yet it was so in 1741. Where now stands the Tombs,
and cluster the crowded tenements of Five Points, was a pond or lakelet,
nearly two miles in circumference and fifty feet deep, and encircled by
a dense forest. Its deep, sluggish outlet into the Hudson is now Canal
Street. In wet weather there was another water communication with the
East River, near Peck Slip, cutting off the lower part of the island,
leaving another island, containing some eight hundred acres. Through
Broad Street, along which now rolls each day the stream of business, and
swells the tumult of the Brokers' Board, then swept a deep stream, up
which boatmen rowed their boats to sell oysters. The water that supplied
these streams and ponds is now carried off through immense sewers, deep
under ground, over which the unconscious population tread. Where Front
and Water Streets on the east side, and West Greenwich and Washington on
the west side, now stretch, were then the East and Hudson Rivers, having
smooth and pebbly beaches. There was not a single sidewalk in all the
city, and only some half dozen paved streets. On the Battery stood the
fort, in which were the Governor's and secretary's houses, and over
which floated the British flag.
But all this outward appearance is no more unlike the New York of to-day
than its internal condition.
The population numbered only about ten thousand, one-fifth of which was
negroes, who were slaves. Their education being wholly neglected, they
were ignorant and debased, and addicted to almost every vice. They were,
besides, restive under their bondage amid the severe punishments often
inflicted on them, which caused their masters a great deal of anxiety.
Not isolated as an inland plantation, but packed in a narrow space, they
had easy communication with each other, and worse than all, with the
reckless and depraved crews of the vessels that came into port. It is
true, the most stringent measures were adopted to prevent them from
assembling together; yet, in spite of every precaution, there would now
and then come to light some plan or project that would fill the whites
with alarm. They felt half the time as though walking on the crust of a
volcano, and hence were in a state of mind to exaggerate every danger,
and give credit to every sinister rumor.
The experience of the past, as well as the present state of feeling
among the slaves, justified this anxiety and dread; for only thirty
years before occurred just such an outbreak as they now feared. On the
7th of April, in 1712, between one and two o'clock in the morning,
the house of Peter Van Tilburgh was set on fire by negroes, which was
evidently meant as a signal for a general revolt.
The cry of fire roused the neighboring inhabitants, and they rushed out
through the unpaved muddy streets, toward the blazing building. As they
approached it, they saw, to their amazement, in the red light of the
flames, a band of negroes standing in front, armed with guns and long
knives. Before the whites could hardly comprehend what the strange
apparition meant, the negroes fired, and then rushed on them with their
knives, killing several on the spot. The rest, leaving the building to
the mercy of the flames, ran to the fort on the Battery, and roused the
Governor. Springing from his bed, he rushed out and ordered a cannon to
be fired from the ramparts to alarm the town. As the heavy report boomed
over the bay and shook the buildings of the town, the inhabitants leaped
from their beds, and looking out of the windows, saw the sky lurid with
flames. Their dread and uncertainty were increased, when they heard the
heavy splash of soldiers through the mud, and the next moment saw their
bayonets gleam out of the gloom, as they hurried forward towards the
fire. In the meantime, other negroes had rushed to the spot, so that
soon there were assembled, in proportion to the white population, what
in the present population of the city would be fully 10,000 negroes.
The rioters stood firm till they saw the bayonets flashing in the
fire-light, and then, giving one volley, fled into the darkness
northward, towards what is now Wall Street. The scattered inhabitants
they met, who, roused by the cannon, were hastening to the fire, they
attacked with their knives, killing and wounding several. The soldiers,
firing at random into the darkness, followed after them, accompanied by
a crowd of people. The negroes made for the woods and swamps near
where the Park now stands, and disappearing in the heavy shadows of the
forest, were lost to view. Knowing it would be vain to follow them into
the thickets, the soldiers and inhabitants surrounded them and kept
watch till morning. Many, of course, got off and buried themselves in
the deeper, more extensive woods near Canal Street, but many others
were taken prisoners. Some, finding themselves closely pressed and all
avenues of escape cut off, deliberately shot themselves, preferring
such a death to the one they knew awaited them. How many were killed and
captured during the morning, the historian does not tell us. We can
only infer that the number must have been great, from the statement he
incidentally makes, that "during the day _nineteen more were_
taken, tried, and executed--some that turned State's evidence were
transported." "Eight or ten whites had been murdered," and many more
wounded.
It was a terrible event, and remembered by the present inhabitants with
horror and dismay. To the little handful occupying the point of the
island, it was a tragedy as great as a riot in New York to-day would be,
in which was a loss of 5,000 or more on each side.
Many middle-aged men, in 1741, were young men at that time, and
remembered the fearful excitement that prevailed, and it was a common
topic of conversation.
The state of things, therefore, which we have described, was natural.
This was rendered worse by the arrival, in the winter of 1741, of a
Spanish vessel, which had been captured as a prize, the crew of which
was composed in part of negroes, who were sold at auction as slaves.
These became very intractable, and in spite of the floggings they
received, uttered threats that they knew would reach their masters'
ears. Still, no evidence of any general plot against the inhabitants was
suspected, and things were moving on in their usual way, when, on the
18th of March, a wild and blustering day, the Governor's house in the
fort was discovered to be on fire. Fanned by a fierce south-east wind,
the flames spread to the King's chapel, the secretary's house, barracks,
and stables; and in spite of all efforts to save them, were totally
consumed. The origin of the fire was supposed to be accidental, but a
few days after, Captain Warren's house, near the fort, was found to be
on fire. Two or three days later, the storehouse of Mr. Van Zandt was
discovered on fire. Still, no general suspicions were aroused. Three
more days passed, when a cow-stall was reported on fire, and a few
hours later, the house of Mr. Thompson; the fire in the latter case
originating in the room where a negro slave slept. The very next day,
live coals were discovered under the stable of John Murray, on Broadway.
This, evidently, was no accident, but the result of design, and the
people began to be alarmed. The day following, the house of a sergeant
near the fort was seen to be on fire, and soon after, flames arose from
the roof of a dwelling near the Fly Market. The rumor now spread like
wildfire through the town that it was the work of incendiaries. It
seems to us a small foundation to base such a belief on, but it must
be remembered that the public mind was in a state to believe almost
anything.
The alarm was increased by the statement of Mrs. Earle, who said that
on Sunday, as she was looking out of her window, she saw three negroes
swaggering up Broadway, engaged in earnest conversation. Suddenly she
heard one of them exclaim, "Fire! fire! Scorch! scorch! a little d--n by
and by!" and then throwing up his hands, laughed heartily. Coupled with
the numerous fires that had occurred, and the rumors afloat, it at once
excited her suspicions that this conversation had something to do with
a plot to burn the city. She therefore immediately reported it to an
alderman, and he, next day, to the justices.
Although the number of buildings thus mysteriously set on fire was, in
reality, small, yet it was as great in proportion to the town then, as
three hundred would be in New York to-day. Less than that number, we
imagine, would create a panic in the city, especially if the public mind
was in a feverish state, as, for instance, during the recent civil war.
Some thought the Spanish negroes had set the buildings on fire from
revenge, especially as those of the Government were the first to suffer.
Others declared that it was a plot of the entire negro population to
burn down the city. This belief was strengthened by the fact that, in
one of the last fires, a slave of one of the most prominent citizens was
seen to leap from the window, and make off over garden fences. A shout
was immediately raised by the spectators, and a pursuit commenced.
The terrified fugitive made desperate efforts to escape, but being
overtaken, he was seized, and, pale as death, lifted on men's shoulders
and carried to jail.
Added to all this, men now remembered it lacked but a few days of being
the anniversary of the bloody riot of thirty years ago. They began to
watch and question the negroes, and one of the Spanish sailors, on being
interrogated, gave such unsatisfactory, suspicious answers, that
the whole crew were arrested, and thrown into prison. But that same
afternoon, while the magistrates, whom the alarming state of things had
called together, were in consultation about it, the cry of "Fire!" again
startled the entire community. The ringing of the alarm-bell had now
become almost as terrifying as the sound of the last trumpet, and the
panic became general. The first step was to ascertain if there were any
strangers in town who might be concealed enemies, and a thorough search
was made--the militia being ordered out, and sentries posted at the ends
of all the streets, with orders to stop all persons carrying bags and
bundles. This was done on the 13th of April. None being found, the
conclusion became inevitable that some dark, mysterious plot lay at the
bottom of it all, and the inhabitants thought the city was doomed, like
Sodom. First, the more timorous packed up their valuable articles and
fled into the country, up toward Canal Street. This increased the panic,
which swelled until almost the entire population were seen hurrying
through the streets, fleeing for their lives. The announcement of an
approaching army would not have created a greater stampede. Every cart
and vehicle that could be found was engaged at any price, into which
whole families were piled, and hurried away to the farms beyond Chambers
Street, in the neighborhood of Canal Street. It was a strange spectacle,
and the farmers could hardly believe their senses, at this sudden
inundation into their quiet houses of the people of the city. The town
authorities were also swept away in the general excitement, and negroes
of all ages and sexes were arrested by the wholesale, and hurried to
prison. The Supreme Court was to sit in the latter part of April, and
the interval of a few days was spent in efforts to get at the guilty
parties. But nothing definite could be ascertained, as the conspirators,
whoever they were, kept their own secret. At length, despairing of
getting at the truth in any other way, the authorities offered a reward
of a hundred pounds, and a full pardon to any one who would turn State's
evidence, and reveal the names of the ringleaders. This was pretty
sure to bring out the facts, if there were any to disclose, and almost
equally sure to obtain a fabricated story, if there was nothing to tell.
A poor, ignorant slave, shaking with terror in his cell, would hardly be
proof against such an inducement as a free pardon, and to him or her an
almost fabulous sum of money, if he had anything to reveal, while the
temptation to invent a tale that would secure both liberty and money was
equally strong.
On the 21st of April the court met, Judges Philips and Horsmander
presiding. A jury was impanelled, but although there was no lack of
prisoners, there was almost a total want of evidence sufficient to put
a single man on trial. The reward offered had not borne its legitimate
fruits, and no one offered to make any revelations.
Among the first brought up for examination was Mary Burton, a colored
servant girl, belonging to John Hughson, the keeper of a low, dirty
negro tavern over on the west side of the city, near the Hudson River.
This was a place of rendezvous for the worst negroes of the town; and
from some hints that Mary had dropped, it was suspected it had been the
head-quarters of the conspirators. But when, brought before the Grand
Jury, she refused to be sworn. They entreated her to take the oath and
tell the whole truth, but she only shook her head. They then threatened
her, but with no better success; they promised she should be protected
from danger and shielded from prosecution, but she still maintained an
obstinate silence. They then showed her the reward, and attempted to
bribe her with the wealth in store for her, but she almost spat on it in
her scorn. This poor negro slave showed an independence and stubbornness
in the presence of the jury that astonished them. Finding all their
efforts vain, they ordered her to be sent to jail. This terrified her,
and she consented to be sworn. But after taking the oath, she refused to
say anything about the fire. A theft had been traced to Hughson, and she
told all she knew about that, but about the fires would neither deny nor
affirm anything. They then appealed to her conscience painted before
her the terrors of the final judgment, and the torments of hell, till
at last she broke down, and proposed to make a clean breast of it. She
commenced by saying that Hughson had threatened to take her life if she
told, and then again hesitated. But at length, by persistent efforts,
the following facts were wrenched from her by piecemeal. She said that
three negroes--giving their names--had been in the habit of meeting at
the tavern, and talking about burning of the fort and city and murdering
the people, and that Hughson and his wife had promised to help them;
after which Hughson was to be governor and Cuff Phillipse king. That the
first part of the story was true, there is little doubt. How much, with
the imagination and love of the marvellous peculiar to her race, she
added to it, it is not easy to say. She said, moreover, that but one
white person beside her master and mistress was in the conspiracy, and
that was an Irish girl known as Peggy, "the Newfoundland Beauty."
She had several _aliases_, and was an abandoned character, being a
prostitute to the negroes, and at this time kept as a mistress by a
bold, desperate negro named Caesar. This revelation of Mary's fell on
the Grand Jury like a bombshell. The long-sought secret they now felt
was out. They immediately informed the magistrates. Of course the
greatest excitement followed. Peggy was next examined, but she denied
Mary Burton's story _in toto_--swore that she knew nothing of any
conspiracy or of the burning of the stores; that if she should accuse
any one it would be a lie, and blacken her own soul.
It is rather a severe reflection on the courts of justice of that
period, or we might rather say, perhaps, a striking illustration of the
madness that had seized on all, that although the law strictly forbade
any slave to testify in a court of justice against a white person, yet
this girl Mary Burton was not only allowed to appear as evidence against
Peggy, but her oath was permitted to outweigh hers, and cause her to
be sentenced to death. The latter, though an abandoned, desperate
character, was seized with terror at the near approach of death, and
begged to be allowed another examination, which was granted, and she
professed to make a full confession. It is a little singular that
while she corroborated Mary Burton's statement as to the existence of a
conspiracy, she located the seat of it not in Hughson's tavern, but in
a miserable shanty near the Battery, kept by John Romme, who, she said,
had promised to carry them all to a new country, and give them their
liberty, if they would murder the whites and bring him the plunder. Like
Mary Burton's confession, if truthful at all, it evidently had a large
mixture of falsehood in it.
On Saturday, May 9th, Peggy was again brought in, and underwent a
searching examination. Some of her statements seemed improbable, and
they therefore tested them in every possible way. It lasted for several
hours, and resulted in a long _detailed_ confession, in which she
asserted, among other things, that it was the same plot that failed
in 1712, when the negroes designed to kill all the whites, in fact,
exterminate them from the island. She implicated a great many negroes
in the conspiracy; and every one that she accused, as they were brought
before her, she identified as being present at the meetings of the
conspirators in Romme's house. The court seemed anxious to avoid any
collusion between the prisoners, and therefore kept them apart, so that
each story should rest on its own basis. By this course they thought
they would be able to distinguish what was true and what was false.
Either from conscious guilt, or from having got some inkling of
the charge to be brought against him, Romme fled before he could be
arrested. His wife, however, and the negroes whose names Peggy gave,
were sent to jail.
On the 11th of May, or twenty days after the court convened, the
executions commenced. On this day, Caesar and Prince, two of the three
negroes Mary Burton testified against, were hung, though not for the
conspiracy, but for theft. They were abandoned men, and died recklessly.
Peggy and Hughson and his wife were next condemned. The former, finding
that her confession did not, as had been promised, secure her pardon,
retracted all she had said, and exculpated entirely the parties whose
arrest she had caused.
An atmosphere of gloom now rested over the city; every face showed signs
of dread. In this state of feeling the Lieutenant-governor issued a
proclamation, appointing a day of fasting and humiliation, not only in
view of this calamity, but on account also of the want and loss caused
by the past severe winter, and the declaration of war by England against
Spain. When the day arrived, every shop was closed and business of all
kinds suspended, and the silence and repose of the Sabbath rested on the
entire community. Without regard to sect, all repaired to the places of
worship, where the services were performed amid the deepest solemnity.
The day of execution appointed for Hughson, his wife, and Peggy was a
solemn one, and almost the entire population turned out to witness it.
The former had declared that some extraordinary appearance would take
place at his execution, and every one gazed on him as he passed in a
cart from the prison to the gallows. He was a tall, powerful man, being
six feet high. He stood erect in the cart all the way, his piercing eye
fixed steadily on the distance, and his right hand raised high as his
fetters would permit, and beckoning as though he saw help coming from
afar. His face was usually pale and colorless, but to-day it was noticed
that two bright red spots burned on either cheek, which added to the
mystery with which the superstitious spectators invested him. When the
sad procession arrived at the place of execution, the prisoners were
helped to the ground, and stood exposed to the gaze of the crowd.
Hughson was firm and self-possessed; but Peggy, pale, and weeping, and
terror-struck, begging for life; while the wife, with the rope round
her neck, leaned against a tree, silent and composed, but colorless
as marble. One after another they were launched into eternity, and the
crowd, solemn and thoughtful, turned their steps homeward.
Hughson was hung in chains; and in a few days a negro was placed beside
him, and here they swung, "blind and blackening," in the April air, in
full view of the tranquil bay, a ghastly spectacle to the fishermen as
they plied their vocation near by. For three weeks they dangled here in
sunshine and storm, a terror to the passers-by. At length a rumor passed
through the town that Hughson had turned into a negro, and the negro
into a white man. This was a new mystery, and day after day crowds
would come and gaze on the strange transformation, some thinking it
supernatural, and others trying to give an explanation. Hughson had
threatened to take poison, and it was thought by many that he had, and
it was the effect of this that had wrought the change in his appearance.
For ten days the Battery was thronged with spectators, gazing on these
bloated, decomposing bodies, many in their superstitious fears expecting
some new transformation. Under the increasing heat of the sun, they soon
began to drip, till at last the body of Hughson burst asunder, filling
the air with such an intolerable stench that the fishermen shunned the
locality.
As simple hanging was soon thought not sufficient punishment, and they
were left to swing, and slowly rot in chains, so this last was at length
thought to be too lenient, and the convicts were condemned to be burned
at the stake. Two negroes, named Quack and Cuffee, were the first doomed
to this horrible death. The announcement of this sentence created the
greatest excitement. It was a new thing to the colonists, this mode of
torture being appropriated by the savages for prisoners taken in war.
Curious crowds gathered to see the stake erected, or stare at the loads
of wood as they passed along the street, and were unloaded at its base.
It was a strange spectacle to behold--the workmen carefully piling
up the fagots under the spring sun; the spectators looking on, some
horrified, and others fierce as savages; and over all the blue sky
bending, while the gentle wind stole up from the bay and whispered
in the tree-tops overhead. On the day of execution an immense crowd
assembled. The two negroes were brought forward, pale and terrified, and
bound to the stake. As the men approached with the fire to kindle
the pile, they shrieked out in terror, confessed the conspiracy, and
promised, if released, to tell all about it. They were at once taken
down. This was the signal for an outbreak, and shouts of "burn 'em, burn
'em" burst from the multitude. Mr. Moore then asked the sheriff to delay
execution till he could see the Governor and get a reprieve. He hurried
off, and soon returned with a conditional one. But, as he met the
sheriff on the common, the latter told him that it would be impossible
to take the criminals through the crowd without a strong guard, and
before that could arrive, they would be murdered by the exasperated
populace. They were then tied up again, and the torch applied. The
flames arose around the unhappy victims. The curling smoke soon hid
their dusky forms from view, while their shrieks and cries for mercy
grew fainter and fainter, as the fierce fire shrivelled up their forms,
till at last nothing but the crackling of the flames was heard, and
the shouting, savage crowd grew still. As the fire subsided, the two
wretched creatures, crisped to a cinder, remained to tell, for the
hundredth time, to what barbarous deeds terror and passion may lead men.
Some of the negroes went laughing to the place of execution, indulging
in all sorts of buffoonery to the last, and mocking the crowd which
surrounded them.
All protested their innocence to the last, and if they had confessed
previously, retracted before death their statements and accusations. But
this contradiction of themselves, to-morrow denying what to-day they
had solemnly sworn on the Bible to be true, instead of causing the
authorities to hesitate, and consider how much terror and the hope of
pardon had to do with it, convinced them still more of the strength
and dangerous nature of the conspiracy, and they went to work with a
determination and recklessness which made that summer the bloodiest and
most terrific in the annals of New York. No lawyer was found bold enough
to step forward and defend these poor wretches, but all volunteered
their services to aid the Government in bringing them to punishment. The
weeks now, as they rolled on, were freighted with terror and death, and
stamped with scenes that made the blood run cold. This little town, on
the southern part of Manhattan Island was wholly given to panic, and
a nameless dread of some mysterious, awful fate, extended even to the
scattered farm-houses near Canal Street. Between this and the last of
August, a hundred and fifty-four negroes, exclusive of whites,
were thrown into prison, till every cell was crowded and packed to
suffocation with them. For three months, sentence of condemnation was
on an average of one a day. The last execution was that of a Catholic
priest, or rather of a schoolmaster of the city, who was charged with
being one. Mary Burton, after an interval of three months, pretended to
remember that he was present with the other conspirators she had first
named as being in Hughson's tavern.
His trial was long, and apparently without excitement. He conducted his
own case with great ability, and brought many witnesses to prove
his good character and orderly conduct; but he, of course, could not
disprove the assertion of Mary, that she had some time or other seen him
with the conspirators at Hughson's tavern--for the latter, with his wife
and Peggy, and the negroes she had before named, had all been executed.
Mary Burton alone was left, and her evidence being credited, no amount
of testimony could avail him.
Although the proceedings were all dignified and solemn, as became
an English court, yet the course the trial took showed how utterly
unbalanced and one-sided it had become. To add weight to Mary's
evidence, many witnesses were examined to prove that Ury, though a
schoolmaster, had performed the duties of a Catholic priest, as though
this were an important point to establish. The attorney-general, in
opening the case, drew a horrible picture of former persecutions by the
Papists, and their cruelties to the Protestants, until it was apparent
that all that the jury needed to indorse a verdict of guilty was
evidence that he was a Catholic priest. Still it would be unfair to
attribute this feeling wholly to religious intolerance or the spirit of
persecution. England was at this time at war with Spain, and a report
was circulated that the Spanish priests in Florida had formed a
conspiracy to murder the English colonists. A letter from Ogilthorpe,
in Georgia, confirmed this. Ury, who was an educated Englishman, but had
led an adventurous life in different countries, could not disprove this,
and he was convicted and sentenced to be hung. He met his fate with
great composure and dignity, asserting his innocence to the last. He
made the eighteenth victim hung, while thirteen had been burned at the
stake, and seventy-one transported to various countries.
At the average rate of two every week, one hanged and one burned alive,
they were hurried into eternity amid prayers, and imprecations, and
shrieks of agony. The hauling of wood to the stake, and the preparation
of the gallows, kept the inhabitants in a state bordering on insanity.
Business was suspended, and every face wore a terrified look. The voice
of pity as well as justice was hushed, and one desire, that of swift
vengeance, filled every heart. Had the press of to-day, with its system
of interviewing, and minuteness of detail and description, existed then,
there would have been handed down to us a chapter in human history that
could be paralleled only in the dark ages.
A swift massacre, a terrible slaughter, comes and goes like an
earthquake or a tornado, and stuns rather than debases; but this long,
steady succession of horrible executions and frightful scenes changed
the very nature of the inhabitants, and they became a prey to a spirit
demoniacal rather than human. The prayers and tears of those led forth
to the stake, their heartrending cries as they were bound to it, and
their shrieks of agony that were wafted out over the still waters of
the bay, fell on hard and pitiless hearts. The ashes of the wood that
consumed one victim would hardly grow cold before a new fire was kindled
upon them, and the charred and blackened posts stood month after month,
hideous monuments of what man may become when judgment and reason are
surrendered to fear and passion. The spectacle was made still more
revolting by the gallows standing near the stake, on which many were
hung in chains, and their bodies left to swing, blacken, and rot in the
summer air, a ghastly, horrible sight.
Where this madness, that had swept away court, bar, and people together,
would have ended, it is impossible to say, had not a new terror seized
the inhabitants. Mary Burton, on whose accusation the first victims had
been arrested and executed, finding herself a heroine, sought new fields
in which to win notoriety. She ceased to implicate the blacks, and
turned her attention to the whites, and twenty-four were arrested and
thrown into prison. Elated with her success, she began to ascend in the
social scale, and criminated some persons of the highest social standing
in the city, whose characters were above suspicion. This was turning
the tables on them in a manner the upper class did not expect, and
they began to reflect what the end might be. The testimony that was
sufficient to condemn the slaves was equally conclusive against them.
The stake and the gallows which the court had erected for the black
man, it could not pull down because a white gentleman stood under their
shadow.
Robespierre and his friends cut off the upper-crust of society without
hesitation or remorse; but unfortunately the crust next below this
became in turn the upper-crust, which also had to be removed, until at
last they themselves were reached, when they paused. They had advanced
up to their necks in the bloody tide of revolution, and finding that to
proceed farther would take them overhead, they attempted to wade back to
shore. So here, so long as the accusations were confined to the lowest
class, it was all well enough, but when _they_ were being reached,
it was high time to stop. The proceedings were summarily brought to a
close, further examinations were deemed unnecessary, and confessions
became flat and unprofitable; and this strange episode in American
history ended.
That there had been cause for alarm, there can be no doubt. That threats
should be uttered by the slaves, is natural; for this would be in
keeping with their whole history in this country. Nor is it at all
improbable that a conspiracy was formed; for this, too, would only be in
harmony with the conduct of slaves from time immemorial. The utter folly
and hopelessness of such a one as the blacks testified to, has been
urged against its existence altogether. If the argument is good for
anything, it proves that the conspiracy thirty years before never
existed, and that the Southampton massacre was a delusion, and John
Brown never hatched his utterly insane conspiracy in Harper's Ferry.
There have been a good many servile insurrections plotted in this
country, not one of which was a whit more sensible or easier of
execution than this, which was said to look to the complete overthrow of
the little city. That the fires which first started the panic were the
work of negro incendiaries, there is but little doubt; but how far they
were a part of a wide-laid plan, it is impossible to determine.
Unquestionably, success at the outset would have made the movement
general, so that nothing but military force could have arrested it.
There is one thing, however, about which there is no doubt--that a panic
seized the people and the courts, and made them as unreliable as in
the days of the Salem witchcraft. But these striking exhibitions of the
weakness of human nature under certain circumstances have been witnessed
since the world was made, and probably will continue to the end of time,
or until the race enters on a new phase of existence. Panics, even among
the most veteran soldiers, sometimes occur, and hence we cannot wonder
they take place amid a mixed population. Popular excitements are never
characterized by reason and common-sense, and never will be. In this
case, there was more reason for a panic than at first sight seems to be.
In the first place, the proportion of slaves to the whites was large.
In the second place, they were a turbulent set, and had shown such
a dangerous spirit, that the authorities became afraid to let them
assemble together in meetings. This restriction they felt sorely, and it
made them more restive. All were aware of this hostile state of feeling,
and were constantly anticipating some outbreak or act of violence.
Besides, it was but a few years since the thing they now feared did
actually take place. And then, too, the point first aimed at was
significant, and showed a boldness founded on conscious strength. Right
inside the fort itself, and to the Governor's house, the torch was
applied. It certainly looked ominous. Besides, the very wholesale manner
in which the authorities thought it best to go to work increased the
panic. In a very short time over a hundred persons were thrown into
prison. The same proportion to the population to-day would be over ten
thousand. Such a wholesale arrest would, of itself, throw New York into
the wildest excitement, and conjure up all sorts of horrible shapes. Add
to this, an average of two hundred burned at the stake, and two hundred
hung every week, or more than fifty a day, and nearly three times that
number sentenced to transportation, and one can faintly imagine what a
frightful state of things would exist in the city. The very atmosphere
grew stifling from the smoke of burning men and women, while the gallows
groaned under its weight of humanity. Had this been the wild work of a
mob it would have been terrible enough, but when it was the result of a
deliberate judicial tribunal, which was supposed to do nothing except on
the most conclusive evidence, the sense of danger was increased tenfold.
The conclusion was inevitable, that the conspiracy embraced every black
man in the city, and was thoroughly organized. In short, the whole place
was, beyond doubt, resting over a concealed volcano, and the instinct of
self-preservation demanded the most summary work. Let the inhabitants of
any city become thoroughly possessed of such an idea, and they will act
with no more prudence or reason than the people of New York at that
time did. An undoubted belief in such a state of things will confuse
the perceptions and unbalance the judgment of a community anywhere and
everywhere on the globe.
Still, consistent as it is with human history, one can hardly believe
it possible, as he stands in New York to-day, that men have there been
burned at the stake under the sanction of English law, or left to swing
and rot in the winds of heaven, by order of the Supreme Court of the
city.
CHAPTER III.
THE STAMP-ACT RIOT OF 1765.
Thorough Understanding of the Principles of Liberty by the People.--The
Stamp Act.--How viewed by the Colonists.--Colden strengthens Fort George
in Alarm.--Arrival of the Stamps.--How the News was received by the Sons
of Liberty.--A Bold Placard.--Stamp Distributor frightened.--Patriotic
Action of the Merchants.--Public Demonstration against the Stamp
Act.--Colden takes Refuge in the Fort.--Dare not fire on the
People.--The People at the Gate demand the Stamps.--Colden and Lord Bute
hung in Effigy.--Colden's Coach-house broken open.--The Images placed in
the Coach, and dragged with Shouts through the Streets.--Hung again in
Sight of the Fort.--A Bonfire made of the Fence around Bowling
Green, and the Governor's Carriages, while the Garrison look silently
on.--Prejudice against Coaches.--Major James' House sacked.--Great Joy
and Demonstration at the Repeal of the Stamp Act.--Celebration of the
King's Birthday.--Loyalty of the People.--Mutiny Act.--A Riot becomes a
Great Rebellion.
At the present day, when personal ambition takes the place of
patriotism, and love of principle gives way to love of party; when the
success of the latter is placed above constitutional obligations and
popular rights, one seems, as he turns back to our early history, to be
transported to another age of the world, and another race of beings.
Nothing shows how thoroughly understood by the common people were the
principles of liberty, and with what keen penetration they saw through
all shams and specious reasoning, than the decided, nay, fierce, stand
they took against the stamp act. This was nothing more than our present
law requiring a governmental stamp on all public and business paper
to make it valid. The only difference is, the former was levying a
tax without representation--in other words, without the consent of the
governed. The colonies assembled in Congress condemned it; hence the
open, violent opposition to it by the people rises above the level of a
common riot, and partakes more of the nature of a righteous revolution.
Still, it was a riot, and exhibited the lawless features of one.
The news of the determination of the English Government to pass a
stamp act, raised a storm of indignation throughout the colonies, from
Massachusetts to South Carolina, and it was denounced as an oppressive,
unrighteous, tyrannical measure. From the wayside tavern and the pulpit
alike, it was attacked with unsparing severity. The Government, however,
thought it a mere ebullition of feeling, that would not dare exhibit
itself in open opposition. Nor does this confidence seem strong, when we
remember the weakness of the colonies on the one side, and the strength
of an organized government, with the law and force both, on the other.
Cadwallader Colden, a Scotchman by birth, and a clergyman by profession,
was at that time acting Governor of New York; and to guard against any
resort to force on the part of the people when the stamps should arrive,
had Fort George, on the Battery, reinforced by a regiment from Crown
Point, its magazines replenished, the ramparts strengthened, and its
guns trained on the town. The people saw all this, and understood its
import; but it had the opposite effect from that which was intended,
for, instead of overawing the people, it exasperated them.
At length, in October, 1765, a ship with the British colors flying came
sailing up the bay, and anchored off Fort George. In a short time the
startling tidings was circulated, that she brought a quantity of stamps.
It was like sounding an alarm-bell, and the streets became thronged
with excited men, while all the provincial vessels in the harbor lowered
their colors to half-mast, in token of mourning. In anticipation of this
event, an organization of men had been formed, called "Sons of Liberty."
They at once assembled, and resolved at all hazards to get hold of those
stamps. They had caused the act itself to be hawked about the streets as
"the folly of England and the ruin of America," and now they determined
to measure their strength with the Governor of the colony. That night,
when the town was wrapped in slumber, they quietly affixed on the doors
of every public office and on corners of the streets, the following
placard:
PRO PATRIA.
_The first man that either distributes or makes use of stamped paper,
let him take care of his house, person, and effects._
VOX POPULI.
"WE DARE."
To the stamp distributors they said, "Assure yourselves, the spirit of
Brutus and Cassius is yet alive. We will not submit to the stamp act
upon any account or in any instance."
McEvers, the head stamp distributor, frightened by the bold, determined
attitude of the people, refused to receive the stamps, and Golden had
them sent for greater safety to Fort George. He had written, to the
British Secretary, "_I am resolved to have the stamps distributed_." But
the people were equally resolved they should not be. Still, on the 30th
day of October, he and all the royal governors took the oath to carry
the stamp act into effect; but they soon discovered that they could find
no one bold enough to act as distributor. All along the sea-coast,
in every part of the colonies, the people were aroused, and either
assembling quietly, or called together by the ringing of bells and
firing of cannon, presented such a united, determined front, that not
one person remained duly commissioned to distribute stamps. On the
last day of October, the merchants of New York came together, and
bound themselves to "send no new orders for goods or merchandise, to
countermand all former orders, and not even receive goods on commission,
unless the stamp act be repealed"--that is, give up commerce at once,
with all its wealth and benefits, rather than submit to a tax of a few
shillings on paper.
Friday, the 1st of November, was the day fixed upon for a public
demonstration of the people throughout the colonies against it, and
never dawned a morning more pregnant with the fate not only of a nation,
but of the world.
From New Hampshire to South Carolina it was ushered in by the tolling of
muffled bells, the firing of minute-guns, and flags hung at half-mast.
Eulogies were pronounced on liberty, and everywhere people left their
shops and fields, and gathered in excited throngs to discuss the great
question of taxation.
"Even the children at their games, though hardly able to speak, caught
up the general chorus, and went along the streets, merrily carolling:
'Liberty, Property, and no Stamps.'" [Footnote: Bancroft.]
In New York the uprising was terrific, for the population rushed
together as one man--as Gage, the commander of Fort George said, "by
thousands."
The sailors flocked in from the vessels, the farmers from the country,
and the shouts, and ringing of bells, and firing of cannon made the city
fairly tremble. Colden was terrified at the storm that was raised, and
took refuge in the fort. An old man, bent and bowed with the weight
of eighty years, he tottered nervously to the shelter of its guns, and
ordered up a detachment of marines from a ship of war in port, for his
protection. In his indignation, he wanted to fire on the people, and the
black muzzles of the cannon pointing on the town had an ominous look.
Whether he had threatened to do so by a message, we do not know; at any
rate, the people either suspected his determination or got wind of it,
for during the day an unknown person handed in at the fort-gate a
note, telling him if he did, the people would hang him, like Porteus of
Edinburgh, on a sign-post. He wisely forebore to give the order, for if
he had not, his gray hairs would have streamed from a gibbet.
At length the day of turmoil wore away, and night came on, but with it
came no diminution of the excitement. Soon as it was dark, the "Sons of
Liberty," numbering thousands, surged tumultuously up around the fort,
and demanded that the stamps should be given up that they might be
destroyed. Golden bluntly refused, when with loud, defiant shouts they
left, and went up Broadway to "the field" (the present Park), where they
erected a gibbet, and hanged on it Colden in effigy, and beside him a
figure holding a boot; some said to represent the devil, others Lord
Bute, of whom the _boot_, by a pun on his name, showed for whom the
effigy was designed.
The demonstration had now become a riot, and the Sons of Liberty
degenerated into a mob. The feeling that had been confined to words all
day must now have some outlet. A torchlight procession was formed, and
the scaffold and images taken down, and borne on men's shoulders
along Broadway towards the Battery. The glare of flaring lights on the
buildings and faces of the excited crowd, the shouts and hurrahs that
made night hideous, called out the entire population, which gazed in
amazement on the strange, wild spectacle.
They boldly carried the scaffold and effigies to within a few feet of
the gate of the fort, and knocked audaciously for admission. Isaac Sears
was the leader of these "Sons of Liberty."
Finding themselves unable to gain admittance, they went to the
Governor's carriage-house, and took out his elegant coach, and placing
the two effigies in it, dragged it by hand around the streets by the
light of torches, amid the jeers and shouts of the multitude. Becoming
at last tired of this amusement, they returned towards the fort, and
erected a second gallows, on which they hung the effigies the second
time.
All this time the cannon, shotted and primed, lay silent on their
carriages, while the soldiers from the ramparts looked wonderingly, idly
on. General Gage did not dare to fire on the people, fearing they would
sweep like an inundation over the ramparts, when he knew a general
massacre would follow.
The mob now tore down, the wooden fence that surrounded Bowling Green,
and piling pickets and boards together, set them on fire. As the flames
crackled and roared in the darkness, they pitched on the Governor's
coach, with the scaffold and effigies; then hastening to his
carriage-house again, and dragging out a one-horse chaise, two sleighs,
and other vehicles, hauled them to the fire, and threw them on, making a
conflagration that illumined the waters of the bay and the ships riding
at anchor. This was a galling spectacle to the old Governor and the
British officers, but they dared not interfere.
What was the particular animosity against those carriages does not
appear, though it was the only property of the Governor they destroyed,
unless they were a sign of that aristocratic pride which sought to
enslave them. There were, at this time, not a half-dozen coaches in the
city, and they naturally became the symbols of bloated pride. It is
said the feeling was so strong against them, that a wealthy Quaker named
Murray, who lived out of town, near where the distributing reservoir now
is, kept one to ride down town in, yet dared not call it a coach, but a
"_leathern convenience_."
Although Sears and other leaders of the Sons of Liberty tried to
restrain the mob, their blood was now up, and they were bent on
destruction. Having witnessed the conflagration of the Governor's
carriages, they again marched up Broadway, and some one shouting
"James' house," the crowd took up the shout, and passing out of the city
streamed through the open country, to where West Broadway now is, and
near the corner of Anthony Street. This James was Major in the Royal
Artillery, and had made himself obnoxious to the people by taking a
conspicuous part in putting the fort into a state of defence. He had a
beautiful residence here, which the mob completely gutted, broke up
his elegant furniture, destroyed his library and works of art, and laid
waste his ornamented grounds. They then dispersed, and the city became
quiet.
The excitement was, however, not quelled--the people had not yet got
hold of the stamps, which they were determined to have. Colden, having
seen enough of the spirit of the "Sons of Liberty," was afraid to risk
another night, even in the fort, unless it was in some way appeased;
and so the day after the riot, he had a large placard posted up, stating
that he should have nothing more to do with the stamps, but would leave
them with Sir Henry Moore, the newly appointed Governor, then on his way
from England.
This, however, did not satisfy the Sons of Liberty: they wanted the
stamps themselves, and through Sears, their leader, insisted on their
being given up--telling him very plainly if he did not they would storm
the fort, and they were determined to do it.
The Common Council of the city now became alarmed at the ungovernable,
desperate spirit of the mob, which seemed bent on blood, and begged the
Governor to let them be deposited in the City Hall. To this he finally
though reluctantly consented, but the feeling in the city kept at fever
heat, and would remain so until the act itself was repealed.
Moore, the new Governor, soon arrived, and assumed the reigns of
government. The corporation offered him the freedom of the city in a
gold box, but he refused to receive it, unless upon stamped paper.
It was evident he was determined to enforce the stamp act. But on
consulting with Colden and others, and ascertaining the true state
of things, he wisely abandoned his purpose, and soon made it publicly
known. To appease the people still more, he dismantled the fort, which
was peculiarly obnoxious to them from the threatening attitude it had
been made to assume. Still, the infamous act was unrepealed, and the
people refused to buy English manufactures, and commerce languished.
At length, Parliament, finding that further insistance in carrying out
the obnoxious act only worked mischief, had repealed it. When the news
reached New York, the most unbounded joy was manifested. Bells were
rung, cannon fired, and placards posted, calling on a meeting of the
citizens the next day to take measures for celebrating properly the
great event. At the appointed time, the people came together at Howard's
Hotel, and forming a procession, marched gayly to "the field," and right
where the City Hall now stands, then an open lot, a salute of twenty-one
guns was fired. A grand dinner followed, at which the Sons of Liberty
feasted and drank loyal toasts to his Majesty, and all went "merry as a
marriage-bell." The city was illuminated, and bonfires turned the night
into day. In a few weeks, the King's birthday was celebrated with great
display. A huge pile of wood was erected in the Park, and an ox roasted
whole for the people. Cart after cart dumped its load of beer on the
ground, till twenty-five barrels, flanked by a huge hogshead of rum, lay
in a row, presided over by men appointed to deal out the contents to the
populace. A boisterous demonstration followed that almost drowned the
roar of the twenty-one cannon that thundered forth a royal salute. As
a fitting wind-up to the bacchanalian scene, at night twenty-five
tar-barrels, fastened on poles, blazed over the "common," while
brilliant fireworks were exhibited at Bowling Green. The feasting
continued late in the night, and so delighted were the "Sons of
Liberty," that they erected a mast, inscribed "to his most gracious
Majesty, George the Third, Mr. Pitt, and Liberty." A petition was also
signed to erect a statue to Pitt, and the people seemed determined by
this excess of loyalty to atone for their previous rebellious spirit.
The joy, however, was of short duration--the news of the riots caused
Parliament to pass a "mutiny act," by which troops were to be quartered
in America in sufficient numbers to put down any similar demonstration
in future, a part of the expense of their support to be paid by the
colonists themselves. This exasperated "the Sons of Liberty", and they
met and resolved to resist this new act of oppression to the last. The
troops arrived in due time, and of course collisions took place between
them and the people. Matters now continued to grow worse and worse,
until the "riot of the Sons of Liberty" became a revolution, which
dismembered the British Empire, and established this great republic, the
influence of which on the destiny of the world no one can predict.
CHAPTER IV.
DOCTORS' RIOT, 1788.
Body-snatching.--Bodies dug up by Medical Students.--Excitement of the
People.--Effect of the Discovery of a human Limb from the Hospital.--Mob
ransack the Building.--Destruction of Anatomical Specimens.--Arrival
of Mayor, and Imprisonment of Students.--Second Day.--Examination
of Columbia College and Physicians' Houses.--Appeal of the Mayor and
distinguished Citizens to the Mob.--Mob attempt to break into Jail and
seize the Students.--The Fight.--The Military called out.--Beaten by the
Mob.--Larger Military Force called out.--Attacked by the Mob.--Deadly
Firing.--Great Excitement.--Flight of Doctors and Students.
In former times "body-snatching," or digging up bodies for dissections,
was much, more heard of than at present. The fear of it was so great,
that often, in the neighborhood where medical students were pursuing
their studies, persons who lost friends would have a watch kept over
their graves for several nights, to prevent them from being dug up.
Neither the high social position of parties nor sex was any barrier to
this desecration of graves, and the public mind was often shocked by
accounts of the young and beautiful being disinterred, to be cut up by
medical students. In the city there was, a few years ago--and perhaps
there is now--a regular commercial price for bodies.
[Illustration: THE NEW YORK HOSPITAL.--Scene of the Doctors' Riot.
Located formerly on Broadway at the head of Pearl Street.]
[Illustration: THE COLORED ORPHAN ASYLUM 143d St. The former building
destroyed during the Draft Riot of 1863.]
Although it was conceded that for thorough instruction in medical
science, subjects for dissection were necessary, yet no one outside of
the medical profession could be found to sanction "bodysnatching."
There is a sacredness attached to the grave that the most hardened
feel. Whenever the earth is thrown over the body of a man, no matter how
abject or sinful he may have been, the involuntary exclamation of every
one is "_requiescat in pace_." When, it comes to be one of our own
personal friends, a parent, sister, or child, to this feeling of
sacredness is added that of affection, and no wrong is like that of
invading the tomb of those we love. Shakespeare left his curse for
him who should disturb his bones; and all feel like cursing those
who disturb the bones of friends who are linked to them by blood and
affection.
In the winter of 1787 and 1788, medical students of New York City dug up
bodies more frequently than usual, or were more reckless in their mode
of action, for the inhabitants became greatly excited over the stories
that were told of their conduct. Some of these, if true, revealed a
brutality and indecency, shocking as it was unnecessary. Usually,
the students had contented themselves with ripping open the graves of
strangers and negroes, about whom there was little feeling; but this
winter they dug up respectable people, even young women, of whom they
made an indecent exposure.
The stories did not lose anything by repetition, and soon the conduct of
physicians and medical students became a town talk. There seemed to be
no remedy for this state of things; the graveyards, which were then in
the heart of the city, were easily accessible; while plenty of men could
be found, who, for a small sum, would dig up any body that was desired.
A mere accident caused this state of feeling to culminate and suddenly
break out into action. In the spring, some boys were playing in the
rear of the hospital, when a young surgeon, from a mere whim, showed an
amputated arm to them. One of them, impelled by curiosity, immediately
mounted a ladder that stood against the wall, used in making some
repairs, when the surgeon told him to look at his mother's arm. The
little fellow's mother had recently died, and filled with terror, he
immediately hastened to his father, who was a mason, and working at the
time in Broadway. The father at once went to his wife's grave, and had
it opened. He found the body gone, and returned to his fellow-workmen
with the news. They were filled with rage, and, armed with tools, and
gathering a crowd as they marched, they surged up around the hospital.
At first many seemed to be impelled only by curiosity, but as the throng
increased, the masons became eager for decisive action. Threats and
denunciations began to arise on every side, and then appeals for
vengeance, till at length they rushed for the door, and pouring into
the building, began the work of destruction. For a while there was
a terrible rattling of bones, as they tore down, and smashed every
anatomical specimen they could lay their hands on. Valuable imported
ones shared the common fate. They swarmed through the building, and
finally came upon fresh subjects, apparently but just dug up. This
kindled their rage tenfold, and the students, who thus far had been
unmolested, were in danger of being roughly handled.
The news of the gathering of the crowd and its threatening aspect, had
reached the Mayor, who immediately summoned the sheriff, and taking
him with several prominent citizens, hastened to the spot. Finding the
students in the hands of the infuriated mob, he released them, and to
the satisfaction, apparently, of the rioters, sent them to jail for
safe-keeping.
There was now nothing left for them to do, and they dispersed, and the
matter was thought to be ended.
But, during the evening, knots of men were everywhere discussing the
events of the day, and retailing the exciting reports that were now
flying thickly around; and next morning, whether from any concert of
action, or impelled by mere curiosity, is not known, crowds began to
fill the street and yard in front of the city hospital. The discovery
of the bodies the day before had deepened the excitement, and now a
more thorough examination of the building was proposed, and also an
examination of the physicians' houses. Matters were beginning to wear
a serious aspect, and the Governor, Mayor, Chancellor, and some of the
prominent citizens of the town, came together to consult on a course of
action. It was finally resolved to resort in a body to the spot where
the mob was assembled, and make a personal appeal to it. They did so,
and presented an imposing appearance as they advanced up Broadway.
Although representing the State and city, they did not presume on their
authority, but attempted persuasion. Mounting the steps, they in
turn addressed the throng, which now kept momentarily increasing, and
exhorted them as law-abiding citizens to use no violence. Some made
most pathetic appeals to their feelings, their pride and self-respect;
indeed, begged them, by every consideration of home and justice, to
desist, and retire peacefully to their homes. They solemnly promised
that a most thorough investigation should be made, and they should have
all the satisfaction the laws could afford. More they ought not to ask.
These appeals and promises produced a favorable effect on many of the
mob, and they left. But the greater part refused to be pacified. Their
blood was up, and they insisted on making the examination themselves.
They did not propose to commit any violence, but having begun their
investigations they were determined to go through with them.
The Mayor and the Governor seemed to have an unaccountable repugnance
to the use of force, and let the mob depart for Columbia College without
any resistance. The professors and students were amazed at this sudden
inundation of the crowd, who swarmed without opposition through every
part of the building. Finding nothing to confirm their suspicions, they
left without doing any material injury. Still unsatisfied, however, they
repaired to the houses of the neighboring physicians, and the leaders,
acting as a delegation of the crowd, went through them with the same
result. It was a singularly well-behaved mob, and they received the
report of the self-constituted committees with apparently perfect
satisfaction, and when they had made the round of the houses, gradually
broke up into knots and dispersed.
But the lawless spirit of a mob seldom arrests and controls itself.
Having once felt its strength and power, it is never satisfied till it
measures them against those of the legal authorities, and yields only
when it must. Hence, as a rule, the quicker "it feels the strong hand
of power" the better for all parties. Promising legal satisfaction, to
law-breakers is a very unsatisfactory proceeding. Obedience first and
discussion afterwards is the proper order to be observed.
The Mayor had hardly time to congratulate himself on having overcome
so easily a serious difficulty, before he found that he had not as yet
touched it. In the afternoon, the crowd again began to assemble, and
this time around the jail, with the avowed purpose of taking vengeance
on the students and physicians locked up there for safe-keeping. Having
asserted and exercised, against all law, the right of domiciliary
visits, it was but a short and easy step to assert the right to punish
also contrary to law. As they gathered in front of the jail, it was
seen that a different spirit from that which they had hitherto exhibited
ruled them. The tiger was unchained, and loud shouts and yells were
heard. "Bring out your doctors! bring out your doctors!" arose on every
side. They threatened to tear down the building unless they were given
up. The inmates became thoroughly alarmed, and barricaded the doors and
windows, and armed themselves the best way they could for self-defence.
Attempts were made to parley with the crowd, but they would listen to
nothing, and answered every appeal with loud shouts for the doctors.
What they _intended_ to do with them by way of punishment was not so
clear, though what their fate would have been, if once at their mercy,
there was little doubt. The city authorities now became alarmed, murder
was imminent, and having no police force sufficient to cope with such
a formidable mob, they decided that the city was in a state of
insurrection, and called out the military. About three o'clock, the
force marched up the street, and passed quietly through the crowd, which
opened as they advanced. As they moved past, a shower of dirt and stones
followed them, accompanied with taunts, and jeers, and mocking
laughter. The whole military movement was evidently intended only for
intimidation--to show the rioters what could be done if they resorted to
violence; for the soldiers, instead of taking up their quarters, as they
should have done, in the building, having exhibited themselves,
marched away. But the mob, still retaining its position and threatening
attitude, another force, a little later, consisting of only twelve men,
was sent up. This was worse than nothing, and as the little handful
marched solemnly up, the crowd broke out into derisive laughter, and all
sorts of contemptuous epithets were heaped upon them. Instead of waiting
for them to come near, they rushed down, the street to meet them, and
swarming like bees around them, snatched away their muskets, and broke
them to pieces on the pavement. [Footnote: John Jay and Baron Steuben
were both wounded in trying to allay the mob.] The soldiers, disarmed,
scattered, and hustled about, were glad to escape with whole bodies.
This first act of open resistance excited the rioters still more--they
had passed the Rubicon, and were now ready for anything, and "to the
jail! to the jail!" arose in wild yells, and the turbulent mass poured
like a tumultuous sea around the building. They rushed against the
doors, and with united shoulders and bodies endeavored to heave them
from their hinges. But being secured with heavy bolts and bars, they
resisted all their efforts. They then smashed in the windows with
stones, and attempted to force an entrance through them; but the handful
of men inside took possession of these, and, with such weapons as they
could find, beat them back. Numbers were of no avail here, as only a
few at a time could approach a window, while those within, being on the
defensive, knocked them back as often as they attempted to climb in.
The rioters, baffled in their attempts, would then fall back, and hurl
paving-stones and bricks at the windows, when those who defended them
would step one side. But the moment the former advanced again, the
latter would crowd the windows with clubs and sticks. The enraged
assailants tore off pickets, and advancing with these, made desperate
efforts to clear the windows. But those within knew it was a matter of
life and death with them, and stubbornly held their ground. The fight
was thus kept up till dark, amid yells and shouts and a pandemonium of
noises, and no efforts apparently were made to put an end to it, and
release the inmates of the jail. But steps had been taken to organize
and arm a large body of militia under an experienced officer, and now
in the dim starlight their bayonets were seen gleaming, as they marched
steadily forward on the dark, heaving mass that filled the street far as
the eye could see. The rioters, however, instead of being intimidated at
the sight, sent up a yell of defiance, and arming themselves with stones
and brick-bats, hurled them in a blinding volley on the troops. So
fierce was the assault, that before the latter had time to form, many
were knocked down, and some badly wounded. The commanding officer,
finding the fight thus forced on him, gave the order in a ringing voice,
"Ready, aim, fire!" A flash broad as the street followed, lighting up
the gloom, and revealing the scowling faces of the mob, the battered
front of the jail, and the pale faces of those guarding the windows.
They had not expected this close, point-blank volley, for the timid
action of the authorities had not prepared them for it, and they stopped
in amazement and hesitation. The commanding officer understood his
business, and instead of waiting to see if they would disperse, poured
in another volley. The rioters were confounded as they saw their
comrades fall by their side, but still stood at bay; until at last,
seeing the dead and wounded on every side, they could stand it no
longer, but broke and fled in every direction. In a few minutes the
street was clear of all but the dead and wounded, the groans of the
latter loading the night air. The poor wretches were carried away, and
the troops remained on the spot all night. The next day the city was in
a fever of excitement. The number of killed was greatly exaggerated,
and the denunciations of the butchery, as it was called, were fierce and
loud. On almost every corner groups of excited men were seen in angry
discussion--multitudes gathered in front of the jail, and gazed with
horror on the blood-stained pavement.
The soldiers who had committed the slaughter were cursed and threatened
by turns, but they quietly rested on their arms, ready, it was evident,
to repeat the experiment at the first open act of violence. For awhile
there was danger of a general outbreak throughout the city; but
the authorities had become thoroughly aroused to the danger of the
situation, and seeing that the quicker they brought the conflict to a
close, the better, made such a display of force, that the riotous spirit
was overawed. Still, it was not entirely subdued, and it was evident
that it was kept under by fear alone. The physicians of the city came in
for almost as large a share of the hatred as the military. They were the
original cause of the disturbance, and threats against them became so
open and general, that they were in constant dread of personal violence,
and many fled from the city. They scattered in every direction, and
there threatened to be a general Hegira of physicians. All the medical
students were secretly stowed into carriages, and hurried off into the
country, where they remained till the excitement died away. It did not,
however, subside readily; indeed, the danger of open revolt was so great
for several days, that the military continued to keep guard at the jail.
CHAPTER V.
SPRING ELECTION RIOTS OF 1834.
Fatal Error in our Naturalization Laws.--Our Experiment of Self
government not a fair one.--Fruit of giving Foreigners the Right
to Vote.--Bitter Feeling between Democrats and Whigs.--First Day of
Election.--Ships "Constitution" and "Veto."--Whigs driven from the
Polls.--Excitement.--Whigs determined to defend themselves.--Meeting
called.--Resolutions.--Second Day's Election.--Attack on the Frigate
"Constitution."--A Bloody Fight.--Mayor and Officers wounded.--Mob
triumphant.--Excitement of the Whigs.--The Streets blocked by fifteen
thousand enraged Whigs.--Military called out.--Occupy Arsenal and
City Hall all Night.--Result of the Election.--Excitement of the
Whigs.--Mass-meeting in Castle Garden.
This country never committed a more fatal mistake than in making
its naturalization laws so that the immense immigration from foreign
countries could, after a brief sojourn, exercise the right of suffrage.
Our form of government was an experiment, in the success of which not
only we as a nation were interested, but the civilized world. To have
it a fair one, we should have been allowed to build and perfect the
structure with our own material, not pile into it such ill-formed,
incongruous stuff as the despotisms of Europe chose to send us. Growing
up by a natural process, educating the people to the proper exercise of
their high trust, correcting mistakes, and adjusting difficulties as
we progressed, the noble building would have settled into greater
compactness as it arose in height, and all its various proportions been
in harmony. We should have built slowly but surely. But when there
was thrown upon us a mass of material wholly unfit for any political
structure, and we were compelled to pile it in hap-hazard, it was
not long before the goodly edifice began to show ugly seams, and the
despotisms of Europe pointed to them with scorn, and asked tauntingly
how the doctrine of self-government worked. They emptied their prisons
and poor-houses on our shores, to be rid of a dangerous element at home,
and we, with a readiness that bordered on insanity, not only took them
into our bosoms, but invited them to aid us in making our laws and
electing our rulers. To ask men, the greater part of whom could neither
read nor write, who were ignorant of the first principles of true civil
liberty, who could be bought and sold like sheep in the shambles, to
assist us in founding a model republic, was a folly without a parallel
in the history of the world, and one of which we have not yet begun to
pay the full penalty. It was a cruel wrong, not only to ourselves, but
to the oppressed masses of Europe, who turned their longing eyes on us
for encouragement and the moral aid which our success would give them in
their struggles against despotism.
If the reason given for endowing this floating population--and dangerous
element under any circumstances--with the full rights of citizens had
been the true one, namely: to be just to them, and consistent with the
great doctrine of equality on which our Government rested, there might
be some little comfort in reflecting on the mistake we made. But this
was false. The right of suffrage was given them by a party in order to
secure their votes, and secure them, too, by appealing to those very
passions that made them dangerous to the republic, and which
the interest of all alike required should be removed instead of
strengthened.
All the good the Democratic party has ever done this country will hardly
compensate for the evil of this one act.
If our experiment shall finally prove a failure, we verily believe it
will be owing to the extension of the political franchise to whites and
blacks who were unfit to use it, and cared for it not because of its
honor, or the good use to which it might be put, but as a piece of
merchandise to be sold to the highest bidder or used as a weapon of
assault against good order and righteous laws.
Of course, the first pernicious effect of this transfer of power to
ignorant, reckless men would be felt at the polls in New York City,
where this class was in the greatest number. The elections here soon
became a farce, and the boasted glory of a free ballot-box a taunt and
a by-word. That gross corruption and villany practised here should
eventually result in the open violation of law, as it did in the charter
election of 1834, was natural.
Political animosity was probably more bitter between the Democrats,
under Jackson's administration, and the Whigs, than between any two
political parties since the time of Federalists and Democrats, in the
days of the elder Adams.
In the spring of 1834 especially, party spirit ran very high in the
city. As usual, for a month or more before the election, which took
place on the second Tuesday in April, all kinds of accusations and
rumors were afloat. There was no registry law, and comparatively few
places for the polls, so that there could be little check on voting, no
end to repeating, while the gathering of an immense crowd around each
place of voting became inevitable. At this election, there was a split
in the Democratic party, Mr. Verplanck being the candidate of the
Independent Democrats, and Mr. Lawrence of the "Tammany."
The most extensive preparations were made on both sides for the
conflict, and it was generally expected there would be a personal
collision in some of the wards.
Tuesday, the 8th of April, dawned dark and stormy, and the rain began to
fall heavily, at times coming down in torrents. But to such a fever
heat had the public feeling been carried, that no one seemed to heed the
storm. The stores were closed, business of all kinds suspended; while
the streets were black with men hurrying to the polls. At twelve o'clock
the American flag was hoisted on the Exchange, when the building became
deserted, and all gathered at the places where the voting was going on.
Men stood in long lines, extending clear out into the street, patiently
enduring the pelting rain, waiting till their turn came to vote.
The famous expression of Jackson, "Perish credit, perish commerce,"
had been taken out of the connection in which it was used, and paraded
everywhere. The sailors had been enlisted in the struggle, and rigged
up a beautiful little frigate in complete order, and named it the
"Constitution." Mounting it on wheels, several hundred of them paraded
it through the streets and past the polls. As they passed through
Wall Street, thundering cheers greeted them, and the excited populace,
heedless of the rain, fell into the procession, till it swelled to
thousands, who, with songs and shouts, followed after. Fearful of the
effect of this demonstration on the voters, the Jackson men hastily
rigged out a boat, surmounted by a flag on which was painted in large
characters, "Veto;" and "Constitution" and "Veto" sailed after
each other through the city. This should have been prevented by the
authorities, for it was impossible for these two processions to meet
without a fight occurring, while it was equally certain that the Whig
one would be attacked, if it attempted to pass the polls in those
wards in which the roughs had the control. But the "Hickory poles" had
inaugurated a new mode of carrying on political campaigns. Appeals were
made to the senses, and votes obtained by outward symbols, rather
than by the discussion of important political questions. This mode of
electioneering culminated with the log-cabin excitement.
In the Eleventh Ward, the Jackson party had two private doors through
which to admit their voters to the polls, while bullies kept back from
the main entrance the Independent Republicans. In most of the strong
Jackson wards, where it was all on one side, the voting went on
peaceably enough, but in the Sixth, it was soon evident that a storm was
inevitable. Oaths and threats and yells of defiance made the polls
here seem more like an object on which a mob was seeking to wreak its
vengeance, than a place where freemen were depositing their votes under
sanction of law. The babel of sound continued to grow worse in spite
of the rain, and swelled louder and louder, till at last the Jackson
roughs, headed by an ex-alderman, made a rush for the committee room
where their opponents were assembled. Some of them were armed with
clubs, and others with knives, which they brandished fiercely as they
burst into the room. Before the members could offer any resistance, they
were assailed with such fury, that in a short time nearly twenty were
stretched bleeding and maimed on the floor; one so badly wounded that
he was carried out lifeless, and apparently dead. It was a savage
onslaught, and those who escaped injury reached the street hatless,
and with coats half-torn from their backs. The mob, now being complete
masters of the room, tore down all the banners, destroyed the ballots,
and made a complete wreck of everything. The Whig leaders, enraged at
such dastardly, insulting treatment, despatched a messenger in all haste
to the Mayor for help, but he replied that he could not furnish it, as
all the available force was away in other sections of the city on duty.
The excitement among the Whigs now became fearful, and they determined
to take the matter in their own hands. The election was to last three
days, and they concluded to let the polls, when the mob entered, take
care of themselves the balance of the day, and organize a plan for
self-protection on the morrow.
A call was at once issued for a meeting at Masonic Hall, and that night
four thousand Whigs packed the building, from limit to limit. General
Bogardus was called to the chair, who, after stating the object of
the meeting, and describing the conduct of the mob in the Sixth Ward,
offered the following resolutions:
"_Whereas_, The authority of the POLICE of the city has been set at
defiance by a band of _hirelings, mercenaries_, and _bullies_ in the
Sixth Ward, and the LIVES of our citizens put in jeopardy. And _whereas_
it is evident that we are in a state of anarchy, which requires the
prompt and efficient interposition of every friend of good order who is
disposed to sustain the constitution and laws, therefore, be it
"_Resolved_, That in order to preserve the _peace_ of the city, and
especially of the Sixth Ward, the friends of the constitution and
the liberties of the citizen will meet at this place (Masonic Hall),
to-morrow (Wednesday), at half-past seven o'clock A.M., and repair to
the Sixth Ward poll, for the _purpose of keeping it open to_ ALL VOTERS
until such time as the official authorities may 'procure a sufficient
number of special constables to keep the peace.'
"_Resolved_, That while at the Sixth Ward poll, those who are not
residents thereof will not take part in the election, but simply act as
_conservators of the peace_, until such times as the MAJESTY OF THE LAWS
shall be acknowledged and respected."
These resolutions were carried with acclamations and shouts and stamping
of feet.
There was no bluster in these resolutions, but their meaning was
apparent enough, and the city authorities understood it. From that hall,
next morning, would march at least five or six thousand determined men,
and if the mob rallied in force, to repeat the action of the day before,
there would be one of the bloodiest fights that ever disgraced the city.
It was believed that the great mass of the rioters were Irishmen, and
the thought that native-born Americans should be driven from their own
ballot-box by a herd of foreigners, aroused the intensest indignation.
It was an insult that could not and should not be tolerated.
The next morning, at half-past seven, Masonic Hall was filled to
repletion. The excitement can be imagined, when such a crowd could be
gathered at this early hour.
In the Ninth Ward a meeting was also called, and a resolution passed,
tendering a committee of one hundred to the general committee; that,
with a committee of the same number from each of the fourteen wards of
the city, would make a battalion eighteen hundred strong, to be ready at
a moment's notice, to march to any poll "to protect the sacred right of
suffrage."
These measures had their desired effect. The presence of large bodies of
men at the different polls, for the purpose of protecting them, overawed
the unorganized mob, although in some of the wards attempts were made to
get up a riot. Stones and clubs were thrown, and one man stabbed; it was
thought at the time fatally. The Sixth Ward, "the Bloody Sixth," as
it was called, was the point of greatest danger, and thither the Mayor
repaired in person, accompanied by the sheriff and a large posse, and
remained the greater part of the day. Threats and opprobrious epithets
were freely used, and occasionally a paving-stone would be hurled from
some one on the outskirts of the crowd; but the passage to the polls
was kept open, and by one o'clock the citizens could deposit their votes
without fear of personal violence.
The evil of having the election continue three days now became more
apparent than ever. The disorderly class, "the roughs," by their
protracted drinking, became more and more maddened, and hence riper for
more desperate action. This second night was spent by them in carousing,
and the next morning they turned out to the polls, not only ready, but
eager for a fight. Early in the forenoon, the frigate "Constitution"
was again on its voyage through the streets, followed by a crowd. As
it passed Masonic Hall, the head-quarters of the Whig Committee, it was
saluted with cheers. This was followed by a rush upon it, on the part of
the mob, who attempted to destroy it. The Whigs inside of the building,
seeing the attack, poured forth with a loud cheer, and fell on the
assailants with such fury, that they turned and fled. The news of what
was passing, had, in the meantime, reached the Sixth Ward folks, and
a shout was raised for followers. Instantly a huge crowd, composed of
dirty, ragged, savage-looking men, broke away with discordant yells, and
streamed up Duane Street towards the building, picking up paving-stones
and brick-bats, and pulling down pickets as they ran. Coming in sight of
the little frigate, they raised a shout and dashed on it. The procession
had now passed the hall, but the Whigs, informed of what was going
on, again sallied forth to the help of the sailors, who were fighting
manfully against overwhelming odds. But they were soon overpowered, and
again took refuge in the hall. This was now assailed, and stones came
crashing through the windows. The Mayor was sent for, and soon appeared
with the sheriff, backed by forty watchmen. Mounting the steps, he held
up his staff of office, and commanded the peace. But the half-drunken
mob had now got beyond the fear of the mere symbol of authority, and
answered him with a shower of stones, and then charged on the force that
surrounded him. A fierce and bloody fight followed. Citizens rushed out
to the help of the Mayor, while the watchmen fell on the mob with their
clubs. They soon stretched on the pavement more than their own number,
but the odds against them was too great. The Mayor received a wound--ten
or fifteen watchmen besides citizens were wounded--Captains Stewart,
Munson, and Flaggs, badly injured, the latter with his skull horribly
fractured, ribs broken, and face cut up. A few of the rioters were
arrested, but the great mass broke through all opposition, and streaming
into the hall, forced the committee to creep through back passages and
windows.
The news of this high-handed outrage was carried like the wind to the
lower anti-Democratic wards, and the excited Whigs came streaming up,
until Duane, Elm, Pearl, Cross, Augustus, and Chatham Streets, up to
Broadway, were black with determined, enraged citizens. Ten or fifteen
thousand were in a short time assembled, and a fearful battle seemed
inevitable. In this appalling state of things, the Mayor called a
consultation, and it was decided to declare the city in a state of
insurrection, and call on the military for help. A messenger was
immediately despatched to the Navy Yard for a company of marines.
Colonel Gamble, commanding, replied that he would be glad to comply with
the request, and put himself at their head, but that he had just sent
them on board the "Brandywine" and "Vincennes." Application was then
made to Commodore Hidgely, commander of the station; but he refused, on
the ground that he had no authority to interfere. A messenger was then
hurried across to Governor's Island for help, but he met with no better
success. As a last resort, General Sanford was now directed to call out
the city military.
All this time the crowd kept increasing, while from out its bosom came
an angry murmur like the moaning of the sea before a storm. The polls
were deserted, and it seemed impossible that the opposing forces could
be long kept apart. At length word passed through the Whigs that the mob
were about to take possession of the arsenal. Instantly several hundred
citizens made a dash for it, and occupied it. This was a brilliant piece
of strategy, and no sooner did the rioters hear of it, than they swarmed
around the building with yells and imprecations. The Whigs, however,
held it, and some of them passed out arms to their friends.
Three terrible hours had now passed since the first outbreak, and from
the Park to Duane Street, Broadway, and the cross streets on the east
side of it, were packed with excited men, their shouts, calls, and
curses rising over the dwellings in tones that sent terror to the heart.
But for the narrow streets, in which but few could come in contact,
there would doubtless have been a collision long before.
But at this critical moment a detachment of infantry and two squadrons
of cavalry came marching down Broadway, and in close column. The crowd
divided as they advanced, and they drew up before the arsenal. The
gleaming of the bayonets and the rattle of sabres had a quieting effect
on the rioters, and they began to disperse again to the polls, to watch
the progress of the voting. In the meantime, the infantry took up their
quarters at the arsenal, and the cavalry at the City Hall, for the
night.
When the polls closed at evening, the ballot-box of the Sixth Ward
was taken under a strong guard to the City Hall, and locked up for the
night. It was followed by four or five thousand excited men, but no
violence was attempted.
The election was over. For three days the city had been heaving to the
tide of human passion, and trembling on the verge of a great disaster,
and all because a few ruffians, not a fourth part of whom could probably
read or write, chose to deny the right of suffrage to American citizens,
and constitute themselves the proper representatives of the city.
But the excitement did not end with the election. It was very close, and
as the returns came in slowly, the people assembled in great numbers,
to hear them reported. The next day, till three o'clock at night, ten or
fifteen thousand people blocked Wall Street, refusing to disperse, till
they knew the result. It was finally announced that Mr. Lawrence, the
Democratic candidate, was elected by a small majority.
The next thing was to ascertain the character of the Common Council. The
same mighty throng assembled next day, forgetting everything else in the
intense interest they felt in the result. It would seem impossible
to get up such a state of feeling over the election of a few local
officers, but the city shook from limit to limit as the slow returns
came in. At last, it was announced that the Whigs had carried the Common
Council by a small majority. As the news passed through the immense
concourse, a shout vent up that shook Wall Street from Broadway to the
East River. It rolled back and forth like redoubled thunder, till every
throat was hoarse.
When the crowd at last dispersed, it was only to assemble again in
separate bodies in different parts of the city, and talk over the
victory.
Even then the excitement was not allowed to die away. The event was
too great to be permitted to pass without some especial honor, and a
mass-meeting was called in Castle Garden to celebrate it. Webster was
sent for to make a speech, the most distinguished speakers of New York
were called upon, and a day of general rejoicing followed, great as that
which succeeded Lee's surrender.
CHAPTER VI.
ABOLITION RIOTS OF 1834 AND 1835.
The Slavery Question agitated.--The End, Civil War.--The
Results.--William Lloyd Garrison.--Feeling of the People on the
Subject.--First Attempt to call a Meeting of the Abolitionists in New
York.--Meeting in Chatham Street Chapel.--A Fight.--Mob take Possession
of Bowery Theatre.--Sacking of Lewis Tappan's House.--Fight between Mob
and Police.--Mobbing of Dr. Cox's Church, in Laight Street.--His
House broken into.--Street Barricaded.--Attack on Arthur Tappan's
Store.--Second Attack on Church in Laight Street.--Church sacked in
Spring Street.--Arrival of the Military.--Barricades carried.--Mr.
Ludlow's House entered.--Mob at Five Points.--Destruction of
Houses.--The City Military called out.--Mob overawed, and Peace
restored.--Five Points Riot.--Stone-cutters' Riot.
Most of the riots of New York have grown out of causes more or less
local, and wholly transient in their nature. Hence, the object sought
to be obtained was at once secured, or abandoned altogether. But those
arising from the formation of Abolition societies, and the discussion of
the doctrine of immediate emancipation, were of a different character,
and confined to no locality or time. The spirit that produced them
developed itself in every section of the country, and the question
continued to assume vaster proportions, till the Union itself was
involved, and what was first only a conflict between the police of the
city and a few hundred or thousands of ignorant, reckless men, grew at
last into the most gigantic and terrible civil war that ever cursed
the earth. The Union was rent asunder, and State arrayed against State,
while the world looked on aghast at the strange and bloody spectacle.
The final result has been the emancipation of the slaves, and their
endowment with all the rights and privileges of American citizens. But
with this has come a frightful national debt, the destruction of that
feeling of common interest and patriotism, which is the strongest
security of a country; a contempt for the Constitution, the
concentration of power in the hands of Congress, small regard for State
rights, while the controlling power in the South has passed into the
hands of an ignorant, incapable, irresponsible class; and, worse than
all, the people have become accustomed to the strange spectacle, so
fraught with danger in a republic, of seeing the legislatures and
executives of sovereign States overawed and overborne by the national
troops. That frightful conflict for the slave has sown dangerous seed;
what the final harvest will be, the future historian alone will be able
to show.
The inconsistency of having a system of slavery incorporated into a
republican government was always felt by good men North and South, as
well as its damaging effect on the social and political well-being
of the whole community; and steps had been taken both in Virginia
and Kentucky to do away with it by legislative action. Whether these
incipient steps would ever have ended in relieving us of the evil,
can only be conjectured. We only know that a peaceable solution of the
question was rendered impossible, by the action of the Abolitionists, as
they were called, who, governed by the short logic, that slavery being
wrong, it could not exist a moment without sin, and therefore must be
abandoned at once without regard to consequences. The system of slavery
was no longer a social or political problem, calling for great wisdom,
prudence, statesmanship, and patience, but a personal crime, not to be
tolerated for a moment. The whole South was divided by them into two
classes, the oppressor and oppressed, the kidnapper and kidnapped, the
tyrant and the slave--a relationship which liberty, religion, justice,
humanity, alike demanded should be severed without a moment's delay.
These views, in the judgment of the press at the time, and of sound
statesmen, would eventually end in civil war, if adopted by the entire
North, and hence they denounced them. The Abolitionists were considered
by all as enemies to the Union, whom the lower classes felt should be
put down, if necessary, by violence. This feeling was increased by the
action of William Lloyd Garrison, the founder of the society, who went
to England, and joined with the antislavery men there in abusing this
country for its inconsistency and crime. These causes produced a state
of public feeling that would be very apt to exhibit itself on the first
opportunity. When, therefore, in the autumn of 1833, after Garrison's
return from England, a notice appeared for an antislavery meeting in
Clinton Hall, some of the most respectable men in New York determined to
attend, and crush out, by the weight of their influence, the dangerous
movement. Another class was resolved to effect the same project in
another way, and on the 2d of October the following placard was posted
in naming letters all over the city:
NOTICE
_To all persons from the South_.
All persons interested in the subject of the meeting called by J.
Leavitt, W. Goodell, W. Green, J. Rankin, Lewis Tappan,
At Clinton Hall, this evening, at 7 o'clock, are requested to attend at
the same hour and place.
MANY SOUTHERNERS.
New York, _October_ 2d, 1833.
N.B. All citizens who may feel disposed to manifest the _true_ feeling
of the State on this subject, are requested to attend.
Putting the appeal in the name of the Southerners, was an artful device
to call out the people.
At an early hour crowds began to assemble in front of Clinton Hall;
but to their surprise they found a notice nailed on the door, that no
meeting would be held. Many, seeing it, returned home; but still the
crowd continued to swell to thousands, who rent the air with shouts and
threats against Garrison. Determined not to be disappointed in a meeting
of some kind, they forced their way upstairs, till the room in which
it was to be held was crammed to suffocation. The meeting was then
organized, and waited till quarter past seven, when it was moved to
adjourn to Tammany Hall. There it was again organized, and a gentleman
was about to address the crowd, when a man stepped forward to the
president, and stated that the meeting announced to be held in Clinton
Hall was at that moment under full headway in Chatham Street Chapel.
Instantly several voices shouted, "Let us go there and rout them!" But
the chairman said they had met to pass certain resolutions, and they
should attend to this business first, and then every one could do as he
liked. The resolutions were read, and after some remarks had been
made upon them, adopted, and the meeting adjourned. A portion of those
present, however, were not satisfied, but resolved to go to the chapel
and break up the meeting there. The little handful assembled within,
apprised of their approach, fled, so that when the mob arrived, the
building, though the doors were open and the lights burning, was empty.
It immediately took possession of the room, and giving a negro who was
foremost in the sport the name of one of the Abolitionists, made him
chairman. The most absurd resolutions were then offered, and carried,
when the chairman returned thanks for the honor done him amid the most
uproarious laughter, and what had threatened to be a serious riot ended
in a wild, lawless frolic.
This was the beginning of the Abolition riots in New York City,
which afterwards, to a greater or less extent, prevailed for years in
different parts of the Union.
Next summer the excitement, which during the winter had nothing to
call it forth, broke out afresh, ending in destruction of property and
bloodshed, and the calling out of the military. On the evening of the
7th of July, an assembly of colored persons of both sexes occupied
Chatham Street Chapel, for the purpose of listening to a sermon from
a negro preacher. The New York Sacred Music Society had leased the
building for certain evenings in the week, of which it was asserted this
was one. Justice Lowndes, of the Police Court, was president, and
Dr. Rockwell vice-president of the society, and they repaired to the
building during the evening, and finding it occupied, at once claimed
their right to it, and demanded that the blacks should leave. But the
latter, having hired and paid for it, refused to do so, when a fight
ensued, in which lamps and chairs were broken, loaded canes used
freely, and some persons seriously injured. The news of the fight spread
rapidly, and a dense crowd gathered around the door. But the police soon
arrived, and forcing their way in, drove white and black out together,
and locked up the church.
The riot, however, continued for some time in the street; but the
blacks, finding themselves outnumbered, fled, and peace was restored.
A portion of the crowd, having recognized Lewis Tappan, one of the
leading Abolitionists, followed him home with hoots and yells, and even
hurled stones at his house after he had entered it.
The next evening, at dusk, the crowd began again to assemble in front
of the chapel. But the lessee of it had closed and locked the gates. The
multitude determined, however, not to be disappointed of a meeting,
and forcing open the gates, obtained entrance. The meeting was then
organized, and Mr. William W. Wilder called to the chair. After making
a speech, in which he showed the evil effects of a sudden abolition
of slavery, by relating his experience in San Domingo, he moved an
adjournment until the next meeting of the Antislavery Society. The
motion was carried, and the assembly broke up. This was, however,
altogether too quiet a termination for a part of the crowd, and a shout
was made for the Bowery Theatre. The attacks on us by the English,
for upholding slavery, and their sympathy and aid for Garrison, and
co-operation with him in agitating the question of abolition in this
country, had rekindled the old slumbering feeling of hostility to that
country; and Mr. Farren, the stage manager of the Bowery, being an
Englishman, it was transferred to him, especially as reports had been
circulated that he had spoken disrespectfully of the Americans.
This night having been selected to give him a benefit, his enemies had
posted placards over the city, stating the fact of his hostility to this
country--whether with the intention of causing a thin house, or breaking
it up altogether, is not known. At all events, the mob resolved on the
latter course, and streaming up the Bowery in one wild, excited mass,
gathered with loud shouts in front of the theatre. The doors were closed
in their faces, but pressing against them with their immense weight,
they gave way, and like a dark, stormy wave, they surged up the aisles
toward the foot-lights. In the garish light, faces grew pale, and turned
eagerly toward the doors for a way of escape. But these were jammed with
the excited, yelling mob. The play was "Metamora," and was under full
headway, when this sudden inundation of the rioters took place. The
actors stopped, aghast at the introduction of this new, appalling scene.
Messrs. Hamlin and Forrest advanced to the front of the stage, and
attempted to address them; but apologies and entreaties were alike in
vain. The thundering shouts and yells that interrupted them were not
those of admiration, and spectators and actors were compelled to remain
silent, while this strange audience took complete possession of the
house, and inaugurated a play of their own.
But the police, having received information of what was going on, now
arrived, and forcing their way in, drove the rioters into the street,
and restored order. But the demon of lawless violence, that was now
fully raised, was not to be thus laid. Some one got hold of a bell, and
began to ring it violently. This increased the excitement, and suddenly
the shout arose, "to Arthur Tappan's." [Footnote: A silk merchant, and
one of the leading Abolitionists.] The cry was at once taken up by a
thousand voices, and the crowd started down the street. But instead of
going to his house, they went to that of his brother, Lewis, in Hose
Street, a still more obnoxious Abolitionist. Reaching it, they staved
open the doors, and smashed in the windows, and began to pitch the
furniture into the street. Chairs, sofas, tables, pictures, mirrors, and
bedding, went out one after another. But all at once a lull occurred in
the work of destruction. In pitching the pictures out, one came across
a portrait of Washington. Suddenly the cry arose, "It is Washington!
For God's sake, _don't burn Washington_!" In an instant the spirit of
disorder was laid, and the portrait was handed carefully from man to
man, till at length the populace, bearing it aloft, carried it with
shouts to a neighboring house for safety. It was one of those strange
freaks or sudden changes that will sometimes come over the wildest and
most brutal men, like a gleam of gentle light across a dark and stormy
sea--the good in man for a moment making its voice heard above the din
and strife of evil passions.
This singular episode being terminated, they returned to their work of
destruction. But suddenly the cry of "Watchmen!" was heard, and the next
moment the police came charging down the street. The mob recoiled before
it, then broke and fled, and the former took possession of the street.
But the latter, coming across some piles of brick, filled their arms and
hands full, and rallying, returned. Charging the watchmen in turn with
a blinding shower of these, they drove them from the ground. They then
kindled a fire on the pavement, and as the flames flashed up in the
darkness and gained headway, they piled on bedding and furniture, till
the whole street was illuminated with the costly bonfire. This caused
the fire-bells to be rung, and soon the engines came thundering down the
street, before which the crowd gave way. The burning furniture was then
extinguished, and the house taken possession of. It was now two o'clock
in the morning, and the mob dispersed.
The next day nothing was talked about in the saloons, groggeries, and on
the corners of the by-streets, but the events of the night before; and
as evening came on, a crowd began to assemble in front of the battered,
dilapidated house of Lewis Tappan. Another attack was imminent, when the
police came up and dispersed them. They had not, however, abandoned the
purpose for which they had assembled.
The little band of Abolitionists, that the year before had been composed
mostly of comparatively obscure men, had now increased both in
numbers and men of influence. Persecution had produced its usual
effects--advanced the cause it designed to destroy. Among other
well-known citizens who had joined their ranks were the two brothers,
Dr. Abraham Cox, M.D., and Dr. Samuel Cox, the latter, pastor of Laight
Street Church, and one of the most popular preachers of the city. Though
opposed by a large majority of his congregation, he had become known
as a bold, outspoken man against slavery; and now the mob, bent on
mischief, streamed across the city toward his church. It was dark, and
as they gathered in a black, dense mass in front of it, suddenly, as
if by a common impulse, a loud yell broke forth, and the next moment a
shower of stones and brick-bats fell on the windows. Babel was now let
loose, and, amid the crashing of window-glass, arose every variety of
sound and all kinds of calls, interspersed with oaths and curses on
"Abolitionists and niggers."
Shrieks of laughter and obscene epithets helped to swell the uproar.
It was evident they would not be satisfied until they left the church
a ruin; but at this critical moment, the Mayor, Justice Lowndes, the
District Attorney, and a posse of police officers and watchmen arrived
on the ground. Expecting trouble, they had arranged to be ready at a
moment's warning to hasten to any threatened point. Their unexpected
presence frightened the crowd, and fearing arrest, they slunk away
in squads, and the danger seemed over. But, evidently by previous
arrangement, the broken fragments, arriving by different streets, came
together in front of Dr. Cox's house, in Charlton Street.
The doctor, however, was not at home. He had received warnings and
threats from various quarters, and knowing, from the fate of Lewis
Tappan's house, what that of his own would be, he had, during the day,
quietly removed his furniture, and in the afternoon put his family on
board of a steamboat, and left the city.
The mob found the door barricaded, but they broke it open, and began to
smash the windows and blinds of the lower story. Before, however, they
had begun to sack the house, police-officers and watchmen, with two
detachments of horse, arrived and dislodged them. They did not, however,
disperse. A more dangerous and determined spirit was getting possession
of them than they had before evinced. Crowding back on each other, they
packed the street east, within four blocks of Broadway. Seizing some
carts, they made a hasty barricade of them across the streets, while a
neighboring fence supplied them with clubs. A large number were armed
with paving-stones, which they would smite loudly together, saying in
deep undertones, "_all together_." As they thus stood savagely at bay, a
collision seemed inevitable, and had they been attacked, would doubtless
have made a desperate fight. But being let alone they slowly dispersed.
A portion, however, though it was now late at night, could not retire
without venting a little more spite, and returning to the church, broke
in some more windows.
Dr. Cox came back to his house next morning, to see if it was safe. As
he left the mutilated building, a crowd of boys, who were looking at the
ruins, immediately gave chase to him with yells and derisive laughter,
and pressed him so closely, at the same time hurling dirty missiles
at him, that he was compelled to take shelter in the house of a
parishioner.
The crowd around the house continued to increase all the morning, but a
hundred policemen arriving at one o'clock, no disturbance of the peace
was attempted. In the afternoon, Mayor Lawrence issued a proclamation,
denouncing the rioters, and calling on all good citizens to aid in
maintaining the peace, and assuring them that he had taken ample
measures to repress all attempts at violence. At the Arsenal, City Hall,
and Bazaar, large bodies of troops were assembled, ready to march at a
moment's notice; and it was evident that the coming night was to witness
a trial of strength between the rioters and the city authorities.
As soon as it was fairly dark, large crowds gathered in front of Arthur
Tappan's store, and began to stone the building. Some fifteen or twenty
watchmen were stationed here, and endeavored to arrest the ringleaders,
when the mob turned on them, and handled them so roughly that they
were compelled to take refuge in flight. Alderman Lalagh was severely
wounded; but he refused to leave, and standing fiercely at bay,
denounced and threatened the maddened wretches, who in turn swore they
would take his life. He told them to force open the doors if they dare;
that the inside was full of armed men, who were ready to blow their
brains out the moment the door gave way. This frightened them, and they
had to content themselves with stoning the windows, and cursing the
Abolitionist who owned the building. In the meantime, Justice Lowndes
came up with a strong police force, when they fled.
While this was going on here, similar scenes were passing in other parts
of the city. At dark, some three or four hundred gathered around
Dr. Cox's church, in Laight Street, discussing the conduct of the
Abolitionists, but making no outward demonstrations calling for the
interference of the police, until nine o'clock, when a reinforcement
came yelling down Varick Street, armed with stones and brick-bats. These
charged, without halting, so furiously on the police-officers, and the
few watchmen stationed there, that, bruised and bleeding, they were
compelled to flee for their lives. The next moment stones rattled like
hail against the church, and, in a few minutes, the remaining windows
were smashed in. The police rallied when they reached Beach Street,
and hurried off a messenger to the City Hall for the military. In the
meantime, loud shouts were heard in the direction of Spring Street, and
with answering shouts the mob left the church, and rushed yelling like
Indians to the spot. A vast crowd was in front of a church there, under
the care of Rev. Mr. Ludlow, another Abolitionist, and had already
commenced the work of destruction. They had torn down the fence
surrounding it, and were demolishing the windows. Through them they made
an entrance, and tore down the pulpit, ripped up the seats, and made
a wreck of everything destructible without the aid of fire. The
session-room shared the same fate, and the splintered wreck of both was
carried in their arms, and on their shoulders, out of doors, and piled
into barricades in the street on both sides of the building, to stop the
anticipated charge of cavalry. Carts, hauled furiously along by the mob,
were drawn up behind this, and chained together, making a formidable
obstruction. They then rung the bell furiously, in order to bring out
the firemen. The watch-house bell in Prince Street gave a few answering
strokes, but information being received of what was going on, it ceased,
and the firemen did not come out. It was now near eleven o'clock, when,
all at once, an unearthly yell arose from the immense throng. Word had
passed through it that the military was approaching. Pandemonium seemed
suddenly to have broken loose, and shouts, and yells, and oaths arose
from five thousand throats, as the men sprung behind their barricades.
It was a moonless night, but the stars were shining brightly, and, in
their light, the sheen of nearly a thousand bayonets made the street
look like a lane of steel. The Twenty-seventh Regiment of National
Guards, led by Colonel Stevens, had been sent from the City Hall, and
their regular heavy tramp sounded ominously, as they came steadily on.
The church-bell was set ringing furiously by the mob and there was every
appearance of a determined resistance. As Colonel Stevens approached the
first barricade, he halted his regiment, and ordered his pioneer guard
to advance. They promptly obeyed, armed with their axes. A shower
of stones met them, while clubs were waved frantically in the air,
accompanied with oaths and threats. They, however, moved firmly up to
the barricade, and the shining steel of their axes, as they swung them
in the air, was as terrific as the gleam of the bayonets, and the crowd
retired precipitately behind the second barricade. The first was now
speedily torn down, and the head of the column advanced. The second was
a more formidable affair, in fact, a regular bastion, behind which were
packed in one dense mass an immense body of desperate men, reaching down
the street, till lost in the darkness. It seemed now that nothing but
deadly volleys would answer. One of the city officers advised Colonel
Stevens to retreat, but, instead of obeying, he ordered the pioneer
guard to advance, and sustained it by a detachment of troops. Amid the
raining missiles they moved forward, when the crowd fell back, some
fleeing up the side streets. The guard then mounted the barricade, and
in a short time it was scattered in every direction; and when the order
"Forward" was given, the column marched straight on the mob. At this
moment, Justice Lowndes, at the head of a band of watchmen, arrived on
the ground, when the two forces moved forward together, clearing the
street of the rioters. While the fight was going on, some of the gang
remained inside the church, and kept the bell ringing violently, until
Colonel Stevens ordered one of his officers to cut the rope.
A portion of the mob now hurried to Thompson Street, where Mr. Ludlow
resided. The family had retired for the night, but their repose was
suddenly broken by loud yells and the sound of stones dashing in their
windows. Jumping up in wild alarm, they saw the doors broken in, through
which streamed the shouting, yelling crowd.
Either from fear of the military, which they knew would soon be upon
them, or some other cause, they decamped almost as suddenly as they
came, and relieved the terror-stricken household of their presence.
About this time, another immense mob had collected at Five Points. The
rioters here seemed to be well organized, and to act in concert. Runners
were kept passing between the different bodies, keeping each informed
of the actions of the other, and giving notice of the approach of the
police.
The destruction at Five Points was on a more extensive scale, and the
gatherings in this, then dangerous section of the city--the home of
desperadoes and depraved beings of every kind--were of such a character,
that for a time the city authorities seemed to be over-awed. The rioters
had it all their own way for several hours, and the midnight heavens
became lurid with burning dwellings. It somehow got round that they had
resolved to attack every house not illuminated with candles, and these
dirty streets soon became brilliant with the lighted windows. Five
houses of ill-fame were gutted, and almost entirely demolished. St.
Philip's Church, in Centre Street, occupied by a colored congregation,
was broken into, and for two hours the mob continued the work of
destruction unmolested. They left it a complete ruin. A house adjoining,
and three houses opposite, shared the same fate. The mob was everywhere;
and although the police made some arrests and had some fights, they
were too weak to effect much. About one o'clock a shout arose, "away to
Anthony Street!" and thither the yelling wretches repaired.
The Mayor was at the City Hall all night, doing what he could; but the
mob had arranged their plans to act in concert, appearing in separate
bodies in different sections of the city at the same time, so that he
hardly knew, with the force at his disposal, where to strike. The next
morning he issued another proclamation, calling on the citizens to
report to him and be organized into companies to aid the police. He
called also on all the volunteer military companies of the city to rally
to the support of the laws. They did so, and that (Saturday) night they,
with most of the fire companies, who had offered their services, were
stationed in strong bodies all over the city; and the rioters saw that
their rule was ended. Beside, many of the most notorious ringleaders
had been arrested and put in prison. A short fight occurred in Catharine
Street between the police and mob, in which both had some of their men
badly hurt; and an attempt was made to get up a riot in Reade Street,
but it was promptly put down. The city was rife with rumors of bloody
things which the mob had threatened to do; but, with the exception of
the military in the streets, the city on Sunday presented its usual
appearance. The lawless spirit was crushed out, and a hundred and fifty
of the desperadoes who had been instrumental in rousing it were locked
up to await their trial.
In June of the summer of 1835 occurred the Five Points riot, which grew
out of the feeling between Americans and foreigners. It threatened for a
time to be a very serious matter, but was finally quelled by the police
without the aid of the military. Dr. W. M. Caffrey was accidentally
killed by one of the mob, and Justice Lowndes was dangerously wounded.
In connection with the series of riots of 1834 and 1835, might be
mentioned the Stonecutters' riot, though it was promptly suppressed.
STONECUTTERS' RIOT.
The contractors for the building of the New York University found
that they could purchase dressed stone at Sing Sing, the work of the
prisoners there, much cheaper than in New York, and so concluded to use
it. This, the stonecutters of the city said, was taking the bread out of
their mouths, and if allowed to go on would destroy their business. They
held excited meetings on the subject, and finally got up a procession
and paraded the streets with placards asserting their rights and
denouncing the contractors. They even attacked the houses of some of
the citizens, and assumed such a threatening attitude, that the
Twenty-seventh Regiment, Colonel Stevens, was called out. Their steady,
determined march on the rioters dispersed them and restored quiet.
Apprehensions were felt, however, that they would reassemble in the
night and vent their rage on the University building, and so a part
of the regiment encamped in Washington Square in full view of it. They
remained here four days and nights, until the excitement subsided, and
the work could go on unmolested.
CHAPTER VII.
FLOUR RIOT OF 1837.
Starvation will always create a Riot.--Foreign Population easily aroused
against the Rich.--Severe Winter of 1836.--Scarcity of Flour.--Meeting
of Citizens called without Result.--Meeting called in the
Park.--Speeches.--Sacking of Hart & Co.'s Flour Store, in Washington
Street.--Strange Spectacle.--National Guards called out.--Disperse the
Mob.--Attack on Herrick's Flour Store.--Folly of the Riot.
Hunger will drive any people mad, and once let there be real suffering
for want of food among the lower classes, while grain is piled up in
the storehouses of the rich, and riots will surely follow. In the French
Revolution of 1789, there was a great scarcity of provisions, which
caused frightful outbreaks. It will never do to treat with scorn the cry
of millions for bread. When, amid the general suffering in Paris, one
said to Foulon, the minister of state, the people are starving for
bread, he replied, "Let them eat hay." The next day he was hung to a
lamp-post. The tumultuous multitude marching on Versailles, shouting
wildly for "bread," was a fearful spectacle. One can hardly blame
starving men from seizing food by violence, if it can be got in no other
way; and if ever a mob could be justifiable, it would be when they see
their families suffering and perishing around them, in the very sight of
well-stored granaries.
In the old despotisms of Europe, the poor and oppressed attribute all
their want and suffering to the rich and powerful, so that they are not
held back from redressing their wrongs by ignorance of their source, but
fear of the strong hand of their rulers.
These men, embittered not only by their own sufferings, but by the
traditions of the past, when they come to this country are easily roused
to commit acts of violence by anything that reminds them of their old
oppressions. They have tasted the wormwood and the gall, and refuse
to have it pressed to their lips in a country where liberty is the
birthright of all. This is what has made, and still makes, the foreign
population among us so dangerous. The vast proportion of them are from
this very class. Ignorant of everything but their wrongs, they rise in
angry rebellion at any attempt, or fancied attempt, to renew them here.
Unfortunately there are Americans among us, who, knowing this, work upon
this sensitive, suspicious feeling, to accomplish their own ends. The
politician does it to secure votes; but the worst class is composed of
those who edit papers that circulate only among the scum of society, and
embittered by the sight of luxuries beyond their reach, are always ready
to denounce the rich and excite the lower classes against what they call
the oppression of the aristocracy.
It is doubtful whether the frightful riot of 1863 would ever have taken
place, but for this tone assumed by many of the city papers. So of this
flour riot, it probably would never have happened, but for demagogues,
who lashed the ignorant foreign population into fury against their
rich oppressors. Starvation, which as we said may be a justification
of violence, did not exist--it was only the high price of provisions,
growing out of scarcity, that caused it, but which scarcity, they were
told, was created solely by the cupidity of the rich.
The year in which the great fire occurred, was a disastrous one to the
crops of the country. The mighty West, that great granary of the nation,
was not then open as now, and the main supply of grain came from east of
the Alleghanies. Hence the cause which would create a short crop in one
section, would be apt to prevail more or less over all the grain region.
We imported wheat at this time very largely; not only from England, but
from the Black Sea.
In September, flour was about seven dollars a barrel, but this, as the
winter came on, went up to twelve dollars--a great rise at that time.
From Virginia, a great wheat State, came disastrous tidings; not only
was the crop short and the price of flour high, but it was said that the
latter would probably go up to fifteen or twenty dollars a barrel. In
Troy, a great depot for State flour, it was stated that there were
only four thousand barrels against thirty thousand at the same time the
previous year. As February came on, a report circulated in the city that
there were only three or four weeks' supply on hand. This was repeated
in the penny papers, with the information added, that in certain stores
were hoarded vast amounts of grain and flour, kept out of the market
to compel a still greater advance in the price. This was very probably
true, as it is a rule with merchants, when they have a large stock of
anything on hand, of which there threatens to be a scarcity, to hold on
in order to make the scarcity greater--thus forcing higher prices. This
will always prove a dangerous experiment in this country in the article
of flour. It is the prime necessary of life, and the right to make it
scarce for the sake of gain, and at the expense of human suffering, will
always be questioned by the poorer classes.
Although the stock of grain on hand at this time was small, there was
no danger of starvation, nor was it to the instinct of self-preservation
that demagogues appealed. They talked of the rich oppressing the poor
by their extortions--of monopolists, caring only to increase their gains
without regard to the distress they occasioned.
There was, doubtless, much suffering among the poorer classes, not only
on account of the high price of flour, but also of all the necessary
articles of living. Meat advanced materially, while from some strange
fatality, coal went up to ten dollars a ton. There seemed no reason for
this, as the amount sent to market was said to be largely in excess
of the previous year. In Canada, coal was so scarce, that the line of
steamers between Montreal and Quebec was suspended before winter set in.
This state of things excited the attention of the people generally,
and in the fore-part of this month, a public meeting was called at the
Tabernacle to consider what could be done. It amounted to nothing.
Some speeches were made, resolutions offered, but nothing practical was
proposed. The temperance people attempted to make a little capital out
of it, by asserting that the high price of grain was owing to the amount
used by the distilleries--rye being sold as high as one dollar and
seventy cents per bushel.
But a different class of people were now discussing the subject, and
in a different spirit. Their attention was directed to _men_, not
_theories_--the individual oppressors, not the general causes.
Chief among those against whom the popular feeling was now directed, was
Hart & Co., large commission merchants in Washington Street, between Dey
and Cortlandt Streets. Their store was packed with flour and wheat, and
every day men passed it with sinister looks. Sometimes a little knot
of men would stop opposite it, and talk of the loads of grain stored up
there, while their own families were pinched for bread. They would
gaze savagely on its heavy iron doors, that seemed to defy the weak and
helpless, and then walk on, muttering threats and curses. These signs
of a gathering storm were, however, unheeded by the proprietors. Others,
better informed, were not so tranquil; and by anonymous letters tried
to arouse Mr. Hart to take precautionary measures. An anonymous letter
addressed to Mr. W. Lenox was picked up in the Park, in which the writer
stated that a conspiracy was formed for breaking open and plundering Mr.
Hart's store, and gave the following plan of action. On some dark night,
two alarms of fire were to be given, one near the Battery, and the other
up town, in order to draw off the watchmen and police, when a large
crowd already assembled in the neighborhood would make a sudden rush
for the building, and sack it before help could arrive. This letter was
handed to the High Constable Hays, who showed it to Hart & Co., but they
seemed to regard it as an attempt to frighten them. This was followed by
anonymous letters from other parties, that reached the Mayor, insisting
on it that danger was hanging over this house. He sent them to Hart &
Co., but they, thinking it was only a trick to put down the price of
flour, paid no attention to them. They locked their three massive iron
doors at night as usual, and went to their homes without fear, and the
underground swell kept on increasing in volume.
The first plan of operation, if it ever existed, was either abandoned by
the mob or deferred till after other measures were tried.
At length, on the afternoon of the 10th of February, the following
placard was posted up all over the city:
BREAD, MEAT, RENT, FUEL!
_The voice of the people shall be heard and will prevail._
The people will meet in the PARK, _rain or shine_, at four o'clock on
MONDAY AFTERNOON,
to inquire into the cause of the present unexampled distress, and to
devise a suitable remedy. All friends of humanity, determined to resist
monopolists and extortioners, are invited to attend.
Moses Jacques. Daniel Graham. Paulus Hedle. John Windt. Daniel A.
Robertson. Alexander Ming, Jr. Warden Hayward. Elijah F. Crane.
NEW YORK, _Feb_. 10_th_, 1837.
The idle crowd had all day Sunday to talk over this call. Everywhere
knots of men were seen gathered before these placards--some spelling
out slowly, and with great difficulty, the words for themselves--others
reading the call to those unable to read it. The groggeries were filled
with excited men, talking over the meeting, and interspersing their
oaths with copious draughts of liquor, and threatening openly to teach
these rich oppressors a lesson they would not soon forget.
There was something ominous in the hour selected for the meeting; four
o'clock in February meant night, before it would get under full headway.
It was evident that the leaders did not mean the meeting to be one of
mere speech-making. They knew that under cover of darkness, men could be
incited to do what in broad daylight they would be afraid to undertake.
Before the time appointed, a crowd began to assemble, the character of
which boded no good. Dirty, ragged, and rough-looking, as they flowed
from different quarters together into the inclosure, those who composed
it were evidently a mob already made to hand.
At length, four or five thousand shivering wretches were gathered in
front of the City Hall. Moses Jacques, a man who would make a good
French Communist to-day, was chosen chairman. But this motley multitude
had no idea or respect for order, or regular proceedings, and they broke
up into different groups, each pushing forward its favorite orator.
One of the strangest freaks of this meeting, was an address to a
collection of Democrats by Alexander Ming, Jr. He forgot all about the
object of the meeting, and being a strong Bentonian, launched out into
the currency question, attributing all the evils of the Republic, past,
present, and to come, to the issue of bank-notes; and advising his
hearers to refuse to take the trash altogether, and receive nothing but
specie. This was the more comical, as not one out of ten of the poor
wretches he addressed had the chance to refuse either. Half starving,
they would have been glad to receive anything in the shape of money that
would help them through the hard winter. Yet when Mr. Ming offered a
resolution, proposing a memorial to the Legislature, requiring a law to
be passed, forbidding any bank to issue a note under the denomination
of a hundred dollars, the deluded people, who had been listening
with gaping mouths, rent the air with acclamations. It was a curious
exhibition of the wisdom of the sovereign people--this verdict of a
ragged mob on the currency question. They were so delighted with this
lucid exposition of the cause of the scarcity of flour, that they seized
the orator bodily, and elevating him on their shoulders, bore him across
the street to Tammany Hall, where something beside specie was received
from behind the bar to reward their devotion.
There was, however, some excuse for him. He had been several times
candidate for city register, and hence was more anxious to secure votes
than flour--be a popular demagogue rather than a public benefactor.
But there were other speakers who kept more directly to the point. They
launched at once into a bitter tirade against landlords for their high
rents, and against monopolists for holding on to flour at the expense
of the poor and suffering. Knowing the character of the audience before
them, and their bitter hatred of the rich that had grown with their
growth, and strengthened with their strength in the old country, it was
not difficult to lash them into a tempest of passion. They depicted
the aristocrats around them rolling in wealth, wrung from their
necessities--laughing at their sufferings while rioting in luxury--nay,
hoarding up the very bread without which they must starve, in order to
realize a few dollars more on a barrel of flour. Loud oaths and deep
muttered curses followed these appeals, and the excited multitude became
agitated with passion. One of the speakers closed his bitter harangue
with "Fellow-citizens, Mr. Eli Hart has now 53,000 barrels of flour in
his store; let us go and offer him eight dollars a barrel for it, and
if he will not take it--" It was not difficult to know how he meant to
close the sentence; but just then, a friend shrewder than he, seeing
the legal consequences to themselves of an open proposition to resort to
violence, touched him on the shoulder, when in a lower tone of voice
he concluded: "_we shall depart in peace_." In the excitement of the
moment, he had evidently forgotten the guarded language he intended to
use, and was about to utter that which would have consigned him to a
prisoner's cell, but checked himself in time. He was willing others
should suffer the consequence of violating the law, to which his appeals
urged them; but his love for the poor did not prompt him to share their
fate.
It was bitterly cold, and it was a wonder that the crowd had listened
patiently so long. The proposition to go to Hart's store with a demand
for flour, was instantly seized, and those around the speaker started
off with a shout, and streaming down Broadway, poured in one dark living
stream along Cortlandt Street into Washington Street. The clerks in
the store heard the turmoil, and suspecting the object of the rioters,
rushed to the doors and windows, and began to close and bolt them.
There were three large iron doors opening on the sidewalk, and they
had succeeded in bolting and barring all but one, when the mob arrived.
Forcing their way through this middle door, the latter seized the
barrels, and began to roll them out into the street. Mr. Hart, who,
either from curiosity to hear what the meeting would propose to do, or
from his suspicions being aroused from what he had previously heard,
was on the spot, and as soon as he saw the crowd stream out of the
Park, down Broadway, he hurried to the police, and obtaining a posse of
officers, made all haste for his store. But as they were going down Dey
Street, the mob, which blocked the farther end, rushed on them with such
fury, that before they had time to defend themselves, their clubs, or
staves as they were then called, were wrenched from their hands and
broken into fragments. The crowd was not yet very great, and the
disarmed officers forced their way into Washington Street and into
the store. Their presence frightened the few inside, and they hastily
decamped. The Mayor, who was in his room at the City Hall, had been
speedily notified of the riot, and hurried to the spot. The crowd
remaining in the Park had also been informed of what was going on, and
dashing madly down Broadway, and through Cortlandt Street, joined with
loud shouts their companions in front of the store. The Mayor mounted a
flight of steps, and began to harangue the mob, urging them to desist,
and warning them of the consequences of their unlawful action. He had
not proceeded far, however, before brick-bats, and sticks, and pieces of
ice came raining around him in such a dangerous shower, that he had to
give it up, and make his way to a place of safety. The street was now
black with the momentarily increasing throng, and emboldened by their
numbers, they made a rush at the entrance of the store. Driving the
police-officers before them, they wrenched by main force one of the
heavy iron doors from its hinges. A half a score of men at once seized
it, and using it as a battering-ram, hurled it with such force against
the others, that after a few thundering blows, they one after another
gave way, and the crowd poured in. The clerks fled, and the rioters went
to work without hindrance. Mounting to the upper lofts, they first broke
in all the doors and windows, and then began to roll and heave out the
flour. The barrels on the ground-floor were rolled, swift as one could
follow another, into the street, when they were at once seized by those
waiting without, and their heads knocked in, and their contents strewn
over the pavement. On the upper lofts, they were rolled to the broken
windows, and lifted on to the sill, and tumbled below. Warned by their
descent, the crowd backed to the farther side of the street. Part would
be staved in by their fall; those that were not, were seized as they
rolled off the sidewalk, and the heads knocked out. One fellow, as he
stood by the window-sill and pitched the barrels below, shouted as
each one went with a crash to the flagging: "_Here goes flour at eight
dollars a barrel!_"
The scene which now presented itself was a most strange, extraordinary
one. The night was clear and cold, and the wintry moon was sailing
tranquilly through the blue and starlit heavens, flooding here and there
the sea of upturned faces with its mellow light, or casting the deep
shadow of intervening houses over the black mass, while the street
looked as if a sudden snow-storm had carpeted it with white. The men in
the windows and those below were white with flour that had sifted over
their garments; while, to give a still wilder aspect to the scene,
women, some bareheaded, some in rags, were roaming around like
camp-followers after plunder. Here a group had seized empty boxes; there
others pressed forward with baskets on their arms; and others still,
empty-handed, pushed along, with their aprons gathered up like a sack.
These all knelt amid the flour, and scooped it up with an eagerness
that contrasted strangely with the equal eagerness of those who were
scattering it like sand over the street. The heavy thud of the barrels
as they struck almost momentarily on the sidewalk, could be distinctly
heard above the shouts of the men. Some of the mob found their way into
Mr. Hart's counting-room, and tore up his papers and scattered them over
the floor. It was evident they were bent on utter destruction; but when
about five hundred barrels of flour had been destroyed, together with
a thousand bushels of wheat in sacks, a heavy force of police came
marching along the street. These were soon after followed by detachments
of the National Guards from Colonel Smith's and Hele's regiments. The
flashing of the moonbeams on the burnished barrels and bayonets of their
muskets, struck terror into the hearts of the rioters. The cry of "The
soldiers are coming!" flew from lip to lip, causing a sudden
cessation of the work of destruction, and each one thought only of
self-preservation. Many, however, were arrested, and sent off to
Bridewell under the charge of Officer Bowyer, with a squad of police.
The latter were assailed, however, on the way, by a portion of the mob
that pursued them, and a fierce fight followed. In the struggle, Bowyer
and his assistants had their clothes torn from their backs, and some of
the prisoners were rescued.
In the meantime, the military paraded the street, clearing it of the
mob, and preventing their return. In front of the store, and far beyond
it, the flour lay half-knee deep--a sad spectacle, in view of the daily
increasing scarcity of grain.
Just before the military and police reached the ground, some one in the
crowd shouted "Meeches." This was another flour store at Coenties Slip,
on the other side of the city, nearly opposite. A portion of the mob
on the outside, that could not get to the store, and aid in the work of
destruction, at once hurried away to this new field of operations. On
the way over, they passed Herrick & Co.'s flour store, and stopped to
demolish it. They were loaded down with brick-bats, which they hurled
at the windows, smashing them in. The doors followed, and the crowd,
rushing through, began to roll out the barrels of flour. But when some
twenty or thirty were tumbled into the street, and about half of them
staved in, they, for some cause or other, stopped. Some said that they
ceased because the owner promised, if they did, he would give it all
away to the poor the next day. At all events, they would soon have been
compelled to abandon the work of destruction, for the police hastened to
the spot, accompanied by a large body of citizens, who had volunteered
their help. Some were arrested, but most of the ringleaders escaped.
How many of those who attended the meeting in the Park anticipated a mob
and its action, it is impossible to say; but that a great number of them
did, there can be no doubt.
By nine o'clock the riot was over, and those who had engaged in it were
either arrested or dispersed.
The next day, Mr. Hart issued a card, denying that the exorbitant price
of flour was owing to his having purchased a large quantity for the sake
of monopolizing it, but to its scarcity alone.
It was certainly a very original way to bring down the price, by
attempting to destroy all there was in the city. Complaining of
suffering from the want of provisions, they attempted to relieve
themselves by putting its possession out of their power altogether. With
little to eat, they attempted to make it impossible to eat at all. A
better illustration of the insensate character of a mob could not be
given.
CHAPTER VIII.
ASTOR-PLACE RIOTS, 1849.
Rivalry between Forrest and Macready.--Macready's Arrival in this
Country.--The Announcement of his Appearance at the Astor-place Opera
House, and Forrest at the Broadway Theatre the same Night posted Side
by Side.--Bowery Boys crowd the Opera House.--Anxiety of
the Managers.--Consultations and Dramatic Scenes behind the
Curtain.--Stamping of the People.--Scene on raising the Curtain.--Stormy
Reception of Macready.--Howled down.--Mrs. Pope driven from the Stage by
the Outrageous Language of the Mob.--Macready not allowed to go
on.--His foolish Anger.--Flees for his Life.--His Appearance the
Second Night.--Preparations to put down the Mob.--Exciting Scene in the
Theatre.--Terrific Scenes without.--Military arrive.--Attacked by the
Mob.--Patience of the Troops.--Effort to avoid Firing.--The Order
to Fire.--Terrific Scene.--Strange Conduct of Forrest.--Unpublished
Anecdote of General Scott.
Probably there never was a great and bloody riot, moving a mighty city
to its profoundest depths, that originated in so absurd, insignificant
a cause as the Astor-place riot. A personal quarrel between two men
growing out of professional jealousy, neither of whom had any hold on
the affections of the people, were able to create a tumult, that ended
only by strewing the street with the dead and wounded.
Mr. Forrest, it is true, had a certain professional popularity, but
nothing to awaken a personal enthusiasm for him. Viewing the matter
in this light, some have thought, there was a mysterious underground
influence at work, that has never yet been discovered. But one needs not
to go far to find the causes that produced it.
In the first place, ever since our revolt from England, especially since
the second war with her, in which the contest for the supremacy of the
seas was decided, the spirit of rivalry between the two countries has
been intense and often bitter. No matter what the contest was, whether
between two boats, or two bullies in the ring, it at once assumed the
magnitude of a national one, and no matter how conducted, the winner was
always charged with unfairness. It so happened that Forrest and Macready
were the two popular tragic actors on either side of the Atlantic. If
they had stayed at home, nothing would have been thought of it, but
each invaded the domain of the other, and laid claim to his laurels.
Of course criticism followed, national prejudices were aroused, and
national peculiarities ridiculed. The press took sides, and fanned the
excitement. Among other things, it was currently reported that when
Forrest was in London, Macready went to see him act, and publicly hissed
him. This was generally believed, and of course it alone would insure
the latter an unwelcome reception from Forrest's admirers here, should
he ever appear on our stage.
Apparently unconscious of this hostility toward him, Macready came over
in the spring of 1849, and at once made an engagement at the Astor-place
Opera House, corner of Eighth Street and Lafayette Place. He was to
appear as Macbeth; and the play was announced sometime beforehand.
Forrest at the same time had an engagement at the Broadway Theatre. On
the 7th of May, the following two significant placards appeared side by
side in all the streets.
ASTOR PLACE OPERA HOUSE.
_This evening will be performed_
MACBETH.
MACBETH ... Macready. LADY MACBETH ... Mrs. Pope.
BROADWAY THEATRE.
_This evening will be performed_
MACBETH.
MACBETH ... Mr. Forrest. LADY MACBETH ... Mrs. Wallack.
This public exhibition of rivalry stimulated the hostility of those
opposed to Macready, and there were some fears of disturbance;
but nothing serious was anticipated--in fact, it was rather a good
advertisement, and promised full houses. Niblo, one of the managers
of the Opera House, unwisely gave out tickets for more people than the
building would hold, and when, before evening, he found they were taken,
he was alarmed. It looked as if they had been so eagerly bought up for
other purposes than merely to hear Macready. He therefore went to the
Chief of Police, and requested the presence of a force in case any
disturbance should be attempted. It was promised, but as it turned out,
most of it came too late to be of any service.
A tremendous crowd assembled in front of the building long before dark,
and the moment the doors were open, a rush was made, and the human tide
poured in, and flowing swiftly over the house, soon filled every part of
it, except the boxes. These filled up more slowly; but long before the
curtain rose, the house was packed to repletion, while the amphitheatre
and parquette were crowded with hard-looking men--a dense mass of bone
and muscle. The fashionable portion of the audience in the boxes began
to feel anxious, for not only were all the seats occupied, but all
the aisles and every foot of standing room. Some were in their
shirt-sleeves, others were ragged and dirty, while all had their hats
on. Such an audience had never before been seen in the Opera House, and
it boded no good. Still, this heterogeneous mass was orderly, but it was
noticed that at short intervals telegraphic signals were made by
those nearest the stage to those in the wings of the amphitheatre, and
answered, indicating a thoroughly arranged plan. The time before the
play was to commence passed slowly, but the hard-looking crowd seemed
very patient. Occasionally, to vary the monotony, some joke would be
passed around, and once a man who was above called out to those below,
imitating the English pronunciation: "I say, Jim, come 'hup 'ere! 'ere's
some of Macready's hangels--'haint they sweet 'uns?" If a lorgnette was
levelled from one of the boxes, those noticing it below would put their
thumbs to their noses and gyrate with their fingers in return. On the
whole, however, the strange-looking crowd were orderly, although the
quiet had an ominous look.
But at half-past seven, the hour for the play to commence, that regular
stamping, common to most theatres, began. But in this case, it did not
continue for a little while and then die away, but beginning in a low
rumble, every moment gathered strength and grew louder, till it rolled
like thunder through the building, shaking the very walls, and making
the glasses in the great central chandelier jingle, as though knocked
together by invisible hands. As the mighty sound echoed through the
recesses and dressing-rooms behind the scenes, Niblo became agitated,
and stepping forward on the stage, peered behind the edge of the
curtain, and surveyed the strange scene. Turning to Mr. Bowyer, of
the chief's bureau, who was by his side, he said: "This looks rather
dubious, Mr. Bowyer." "Yes," he replied, "the 'Boy's' are here
certainly. What made you sell so many tickets? People are making a
tremendous rush at the doors yet, and the house is full; over full
already." Niblo then turned to his partner, and said: "What do you
think, Mr. Hackett. Is there going to be a disturbance?" "I don't know,"
he replied; "you must ask Mr. Bowyer."
The latter, putting his eye to the crack, took a careful survey of
the audience, and remarked: "There is mischief in the parquette and
amphitheatre, but probably no actual violence will be attempted;
the 'boys' will make a noise, and endeavor to prevent the play from
proceeding, but possibly they will do nothing further; they seem to
be patient and good-natured, but Mr. Macready may expect a rough
reception."
Macready, who had been dressing, now approached and also took a peep
from behind the curtain. His gaze was long and searching. The scrutiny
did not satisfy him, and he turned away and began to pace backward and
forward in one of the wings, moody and thoughtful. The stamping had
ceased while the orchestra was playing, but it now commenced again,
apparently louder than ever. Lady Macbeth in full dress now came on the
stage, pale and agitated. She also took a peep from behind the curtain.
The spectacle frightened her, and turning to Mr. Hackett, she whispered,
rather than exclaimed, "My God! Mr. Hackett, what is the matter? Are we
to be murdered to-night?" "My dear Madam," he replied, "keep calm, there
is no cause for alarm; everything will go on smoothly;" but his pale
face and anxious look belied his words. It seemed now as if the house
would come down under the continuous, furious stamping. Hackett turned
to Bowyer, and asked if the chief had come. The latter replied he did
not know; and another silence followed in the group behind the curtain,
while they stood and listened to the thundering tramp, tramp, that rose
like muffled thunder. At length Hackett asked: "How many policemen are
there in the house?" "I don't know," replied Bowyer. "But the chief
should have known," retorted the former. "What do you want the police
to do, Mr. Niblo?" quietly asked Bowyer. The latter hesitated a moment,
when the attaches of the theatre came crowding forward in alarm, and
asking by their scared looks what it all meant.
Macready and Mrs. Pope, in full costume, were at this time standing
apart, talking together, evidently discussing the best course to be
pursued. The uproar seemed to grow louder, and prudence dictated a
suspension of the play; but Macready, after a moment's hesitation,
determined to risk it, and suddenly gave the signal to raise the
curtain. The bell tinkled, and the curtain slowly rose, revealing the
gorgeous scene and the actors standing in a blaze of light. Instantly
the tumult ceased, and a deep sudden hush succeeded. Those roughs were
evidently taken aback by the dazzling splendor that burst upon them. It
was a new revelation to them, and for the moment they seemed to forget
the object of their coming, and to be wholly absorbed in the vision
before them.
The first scene passed off quietly, and the fears of a disturbance were
allayed. In the second, taking Duncan for Macbeth, the crowd began to
hiss, but soon finding their mistake ceased. It was evident that some
one better posted than the mass had control of this wild element, so
eager to be let loose. At length Macbeth came on, and was received with
deafening cheers by those in the boxes. As these died away, a hiss
ran through the amphitheatre and parquette, followed by cat-calls,
cock-crowing, and sounds of every imaginable description. Macready had
hardly uttered a single sentence, before his voice was totally drowned
in the uproar. Forced to stop; he quietly folded his arms and faced the
storm, expecting it would soon blow over. Finding himself mistaken--that
if anything it grew louder and fiercer, his disdain turned into foolish
anger, and advancing to the footlights, and throwing all the contempt
and scorn into his face that he was master of, he deliberately walked
the entire breadth of the stage, gazing haughtily as he did so, into the
faces of the roughs nearest him, who were bawling their throats hoarse.
This did not mend matters any, as he easily could have foreseen, had he
known this type of American character better. He then attempted to go on
and outbellow, if possible, the audience. But it was like shouting amid
the roar of breakers. Nobody heard a word he said, still he stuck to it
till he got through that portion of the act. It was now Lady Macbeth's
turn, and the appearance of a woman, it was thought, would command
that respect which in America is almost always accorded to one. But her
reception was worse than that of Macready, for not content with shouts
and yells they heaped disgusting epithets on her, and were so vulgar in
their ribaldry that she flew in affright from the stage, "blushing,"
it was said, "even through the rouge on her face." Macready, however,
showing, if nothing else, good English pluck, determined to go on. But
he had scarcely finished the first sentence, when some potatoes struck
the stage at his feet; then rotten eggs, breaking and spattering their
sickening contents over his royal robes; while howls that seemed to come
from the lower regions arose on every side. It was Pandemonium broke
loose, and those in the boxes, thoroughly alarmed, jumped to their
feet and stood as if paralyzed, gazing on the strange spectacle below.
Macready's passions were now thoroughly aroused, and he stubbornly stood
his ground. Suddenly a chair hurled from above, and evidently aimed
at his head, struck the stage at his feet and broke into fragments,
followed by the shout, "Go off the stage, you English fool! Hoo! Three
cheers for Ned Forrest!" which were given with a will. Then came another
chair, narrowly missing Macready's head, who, now alarmed for his
personal safety, fled from the stage, and the curtain fell. But the
bedlam that had been let loose did not stop. Hoots, curses, threats
of vengeance, and the confused sounds of a mob given wholly over to
passion, struck terror into all hearts; and Macready, fearing a rush
would be made for him behind the scenes, left the theatre by a private
door, and jumping into a carriage was rapidly driven to his hotel. The
manager, alarmed for the safety of the building, attempted to announce
his departure to the audience, but in vain. They would not listen
to him, and as a last resort he chalked in large letters on a board,
"_Macready has left the theatre_" and hoisted it before the footlights.
This had the desired effect, and the headlong crowd, with shouts and
laughter, began to tumble out. Once in the street, they sent up a loud
hurrah, and dispersed in groups to their various drinking places, to
talk over their victory and damn all Englishmen.
The fact that the mob refrained from damaging the theatre, shows that
they did not desire destruction; they had only done in their rough way
what other men deemed respectable, and even legislators, have often
done, and almost as boisterously, to prevent an obnoxious person from
being heard. They certainly had many respectable precedents for
their course, and Mr. Macready should have done what others have been
compelled to do--given up the attempt and waited for a more propitious
time. That a man has a right to play or speak, is true; but men of all
grades have always asserted the right to show their displeasure of the
acting of the one or the sentiments of the other. Not that there is
any excuse for such conduct as we have described, but it can be
hardly called a serious riot, although by whomsoever committed is
unquestionably riotous in its character.
Of this contemptible, disgraceful interference of his friends in his
quarrel, Forrest had nothing to say--he kept a studied silence. How a
man with any self-respect could have refrained from denouncing it, and
repudiating all sympathy and connection with it by a public card, it
will be difficult for men of ordinary sensibility to imagine.
Macready now determined to throw up his engagement altogether, but
after much consultation and deliberation changed his mind. A letter was
addressed to him by many of the most wealthy and prominent citizens of
the city, in which they expressed their regret at the treatment he had
received, and urged him not to yield to such a lawless spirit. They
promised that he should be protected in his rights, and hoped he would
give the city an opportunity to wipe out the stain that had been put
upon its character. This he unwisely consented to do, and the next
Thursday was fixed for his appearance in the same play. When the
placards announcing it were pasted up, there appeared immediately
alongside of them another, announcing the appearance on the same
evening of Forrest, in the Broadway Theatre, in the character of the
"Gladiator."
In the meantime other posters appeared, and among them the following in
startling capitals:
"WORKINGMEN!
SHALL AMERICANS OR ENGLISH RULE IN THIS CITY?
The crew of the British steamer have threatened all Americans who shall
dare to offer their opinions this night at the
ENGLISH ARISTOCRATIC OPERA HOUSE.
WORKINGMEN! FREEMEN! STAND UP TO YOUR LAWFUL RIGHTS."
It will be observed, that this artful appeal was like a two-edged sword,
cutting both ways. It aimed at the same time to stir up the hatred of
the lower classes against the upper, by the word aristocratic; and the
national hatred of the English, by calling it the _English aristocratic_
Opera House to be guarded by English sailors. Both parties now began
active preparations for the eventful night--the rioters by increasing
and organizing their forces, and setting on foot plans to get possession
of the house; the friends of Macready, to prevent this from being done,
and at the same time secure sufficient aid from the authorities to
suppress all open violence. To keep the rowdies from occupying the
house, tickets were sold or given away only to those known to be
friendly to Macready; while to suppress violence, three hundred
police were promised, to be supported if necessary by two regiments of
soldiers, who were ordered to be under arms at their quarters, ready to
march at a moment's notice.
As the day advertised for the play approached, the excitement deepened,
and serious trouble seemed unavoidable. On the appointed evening, a
strong body of police was quietly placed inside of the house, with
definite instructions how to act. In the meantime, an immense crowd had
assembled in front of the building, and, when at last the doors opened,
a rush was made for them. But the police kept the crowd back, and only
those who had tickets were admitted. When the house was fairly filled,
the doors were closed and fastened. In the meantime the windows had been
barricaded, with the exception of one, which was overlooked. This the
now disappointed rabble assailed with stones, sending them through it,
in among the startled audience. They tried also to break down one of the
doors, but the policemen's clubs stopped them. Then commenced a series
of yells and shouts, mingled with horrid oaths and threats as the
baffled wretches surged around the building. Finding nothing else
to vent their rage on, they attacked the lamps in the neighborhood,
breaking them to pieces, and putting out the lights.
In the meantime, the play inside, with this wild accompaniment without,
commenced. Notwithstanding all the care that had been taken, a large
number of roughs had succeeded in procuring tickets, showing that some
professedly respectable men had been in collusion with them. Although
the rioters inside were in a minority, they were not daunted, and
being determined that the play should not go on, commenced stamping
and yelling so, that Macready's voice from the outset was completely
drowned.
The police in disguise had mingled all day with the rioters, and
ascertained what the mode of action inside the house was to be. At a
certain point in the play, a signal was to be given, on seeing which
the entire body was to make a rush for the stage and seize Macready. The
Chief of Police arranged his plans accordingly, and imparted them to
the force under him. He therefore made no effort to stop the noise, but
waited for the expected signal. At length it was given, and the entire
body of rioters rose with a yell and sprang forward. But at that moment,
the chief gave _his_ signal, which was lifting his hat from his head.
Every eye of those determined policemen had been intently watching it,
and as it now rose, they sprang with a single bound upon the astonished
rowdies, and before they could recover from their surprise, most of them
were outside of the building, while the ringleaders were kept back and
caged inside.
The play now went on, but it was a spiritless affair. Every ear was
turned to hear the muffled roar of the voices outside, which every
moment increased in power as the mighty multitude kept swelling in
numbers.
The afterpiece was omitted, and Macready escaping through a private
door, hastened to his hotel. It seemed for a time that the building
would be torn down; but at length, a regiment of the National Guard,
preceded by a body of cavalry, was seen marching steadily up Broadway.
The crowd parted as it advanced, and as it turned into Eighth Street,
the sharp word of command, "right wheel," rang out distinct and clear
over the uproar. The rioters, instead of being intimidated, rushed to a
pile of paving-stones that unfortunately happened to be near, and arming
themselves with these, began to pelt the horses, which soon became
unmanageable, so that the cavalry force had to retire.
The infantry then advanced, but were received with such a deluge of
stones that they, too, fell back to Broadway. Here they rallied, and at
the order forward, moved steadily on the mob, and forced their way to
the front of the Opera House. While forming line here on the sidewalk,
they were assailed so fiercely with paving-stones, that the soldiers
fell rapidly. The rioters were in close quarters, and the heavy stones,
hurled at such a short distance, were almost as deadly as musket-balls.
Captain Pond soon fell wounded, when the second in command told the
sheriff that if he did not give the order to fire, the troops would be
withdrawn, for they couldn't stand it. Recorder Talmadge, unwilling to
resort to such a desperate measure, attempted to harangue the mob. He
begged them, in God's name, to disperse and go home--if they did not,
the soldiers would certainly fire on them, etc. The only reply was hoots
and yells of defiance, and paving-stones. The Recorder then forced his
way up to General Hall, standing at the right of the battalion, and
said: "You must order your men to fire; it is a terrible alternative,
but there is no other." The General asked for the Mayor, for he was
doubtful of his authority to do so, without his order. "He won't be
here," replied Talmadge. General Sandford then said: "Well, the National
Guards will not stand and be pounded to death with stones; nearly
one-third of the force is already disabled." After a little more hurried
conversation, the sheriff said, "If that be so, you have permission to
fire." The uproar all this time was deafening, and the order, "Ready!"
of General Sandford, could hardly be heard; but the sharp, quick rattle
of steel rose distinctly over the discord. Still terribly repugnant
to shoot down citizens, General Hall and Colonel Duryea made another
attempt to address the crowd, and begged them to cease these attacks.
"Fire and be d--ned!" shouted a burly fellow. "Fire, if you dare--take
the life of a freeborn American for a bloody British actor! D--n it, you
dassent fire!" and he boldly bared his breast to the levelled muskets.
"Fire, will you?" yelled another, as he hurled a paving-stone at General
Sandford, wounding his sword arm. "Hit 'em again!" shouted a third, who
saw the well-directed aim. Still averse to shedding blood, General Hall
told the soldiers to elevate their pieces over the heads of the people,
and fire at the blank wall of Mr. Langton's house opposite, hoping thus
to frighten the mob. But this only awakened derision, and the leaders
shouted, "Come on, boys! they have blank cartridges and leather flints!"
In the meantime, the police, who had mingled with the mob, and were
making arrests, began to force their way out, in order to escape the
fire that now seemed inevitable. The troops moved across the street,
and faced toward the Bowery, obeying the word of command promptly, and
marching with great steadiness, although the pelting they received was
murderous. To retreat would be pusillanimous, to stand there and be
pelted to death worse still; and General Hall finally gave the order to
fire point blank, but to aim low, so that men would be wounded, rather
than killed. The command fell clear and distinct, "Fire!"
A single musket shot on the extreme left was the only response. They
were too near--their muzzles almost touching the hearts of the men, and
it seemed terribly murderous to fire. "Fire!" shouted General Sandford.
Three more musket-shots, only, followed. "Fire!" Duryea then cried
out, in ringing tones. A swift volley ran along the line, shedding a
momentary glare on the wild faces of the mob, the streets, and adjoining
houses, and then came the report. This time the dead in their midst told
the rioters that it was child's play no longer, and they fell back.
But getting a new supply of paving-stones, they rallied, and once more
advanced on the troops. A second volley, more murderous than the first,
sent them crowding back on each other in terror. The troops now wheeled,
and formed line again in front of the Opera House. It had got to be
eleven o'clock, and more troops were ordered up, with two cannon. The
mob, though dismayed, still refused to retire, and hung sullen and
threatening as a thunder-cloud on the skirts of the military, and a
third volley was poured into them. The rioters now separated, and fell
back into the darkness, when the troops were ordered to fire the fourth
time, in different directions--one wing down Eighth Street, and the
other into Lafayette Place. This last volley, judging from the testimony
of reliable witnesses, was altogether needless. The conflict was over.
A lawyer of Wall Street, noted for his philanthropy and kindness,
resided in Fourth Avenue, and being informed by a friend, late in
the evening, that men were lying dead and wounded in Astor Place,
he hastened down to see if he could be of any assistance to the poor
creatures. Reaching Lafayette Place, he saw in the dim light a line of
soldiers drawn up, though he saw no mob, only a few scattered men, who
seemed to be spectators. Suddenly he heard the order to fire, and the
next moment came a flash and report. He could not imagine what they were
firing at; but suddenly he felt his arm numb, and the next moment he
grew faint and dropped on the sidewalk, his arm broken to shivers. The
brother of a well-known banker was shot in Broadway by a random bullet;
and a man, while stepping out of a car in Third Avenue, was shot dead.
Other innocent persons fell victims, as they always must, if they will
hang on the skirts of a mob from curiosity. Men anxious to witness a
fight must take the chances of getting hurt.
Great excitement followed; an indignation meeting was called in the
Park, coroners' juries stultified themselves, and a senseless outcry
was made generally. Twenty-two were killed and thirty wounded. It was a
terrible sacrifice to make for a paltry quarrel between two actors about
whom nobody cared; and in this light alone many viewed it, forgetting
that when the public peace is broken, it matters not how great or
insignificant the cause, it must be preserved; and if the police or
military are called out to do it, and are attacked, they must defend
themselves, and uphold the laws, or be false to their trust. The
authorities have to do with riots, not their causes; put them down, not
deprecate their existence, or argue their justice.
If public indignation had been turned against Forrest, it would have
been more sensible. He knew perfectly well that if his friends persisted
in their determination to attack Macready, the second night, blood would
be spilt. It was _his_ quarrel, and yet he deliberately kept his lips
closed. He neither begged them for their own sake, nor for his, or as
good citizens, to forbear, and let his rival alone; nor after it was
known that many had been killed, did he express a single word of regret;
apparently having no feeling but gratification, that even at such a
fearful sacrifice his hated rival had been driven from the field. But
responsibility is not so easily shaken off, and in real life as well as
in tragedy, conscience will force a man to cry:
"Out! damned blood spot! Out, I say!"
Macready left the country, and the excitement died away; but the painful
memories of this absurd yet deadly riot will remain till the present
generation has passed from the stage.
We cannot close this account more fitly than by relating an anecdote of
General Scott connected with it, that has never been made public. He was
living at the time in Second Avenue, nearly opposite Astor Place. He
was occupying the upper part of the house that evening, and his wife the
lower. When the first volley over the heads of the people was fired, he
hastened down, and sent off a servant to ascertain what it meant.
Before the latter returned, he heard a second volley. Hurrying below, he
despatched a second servant to find out what was going on, and went back
to his room. A third volley smote on his ear, and deeply agitated he
hurried below, and began to pace the room in an excited manner. His
wife, observing how much he was moved, remarked pleasantly: "Why,
General, you are frightened!" This was rather a staggerer to the old
hero, and he turned and exclaimed: "Am I a man to be frightened, madam?
It is _volley_ firing, madam--_volley_ firing. They are shooting down
American citizens!" The old chieftain had heard that firing too often on
the field of battle, to be ignorant of its meaning. He had seen ranks
of living men reel and fall before it; nay, stood amid the curling smoke
when his staff was swept down by his side, calm and unmoved, but here
he was unmanned. Over the ploughed and blood-stained field, he had moved
with nerves as steady as steel, and pulse beating evenly; but now he
paced his safe and quiet room with his strong nature painfully agitated,
and all because American citizens were being shot down by American
citizens. The fact speaks volumes for the nobleness of his nature, and
that unsullied patriotism which sheds tenfold lustre on his well-earned
laurels.
[Illustration: HEADQUARTERS METROPOLITAN FIRE DEPARTMENT.]
[Illustration: HEADQUARTERS METROPOLITAN POLICE, 300 Mulberry Street.]
CHAPTER IX.
POLICE RIOT--DEAD-RABBITS' RIOT--BREAD RIOT.
Creation of the Metropolitan District.--Collision between Mayor
Wood's Police and the Metropolitan Police.--Seventh Regiment called
out.--Dead-Rabbits' Riot.--Severe Fight between the Roach Guards and
Dead Rabbits.--Police driven back.--Barricades erected.--Military called
out.--Killed and Wounded.--Bread Riot.--Financial Distress.
The year 1857 was a remarkable one in the history of New York City, and
indeed of the whole country. The year previous had been characterized
by intense political excitement, for the presidential campaign had
been carried on as a sectional fight or a war between the upholders
and enemies of the institution of slavery as it existed at the South.
Pennsylvania alone by her vote defeated the antislavery party, and
the South, seeing the danger that threatened it, had already begun to
prepare for that tremendous struggle, that afterwards tested to the
utmost the resources and strength of the North; while a financial storm
overwhelmed the entire country in disaster. To these were added local
causes, which affected New York City particularly, and made it a year of
uncommon disturbance.
The Republican party being largely in the ascendant in the State,
determined to revolutionize the municipal government, and place the
Democratic city partially under Republican rule. Many bills were passed
during the session of Legislature, peculiarly obnoxious to the city
authorities, but that which excited the most bitter opposition was
called the Metropolitan Police Act, by which the counties of New York,
Kings, Westchester, and Richmond were made one police district, to
be controlled by a board of commissioners, consisting of five members
appointed by the Governor and Senate, and to hold office for five years.
This board having organized, proceeded to create a police department.
Mayor Wood denied the constitutionality of the act and retained the old
police--so that there were two police departments existing at the same
time in the city. The Mayor resorted to all kinds of legal measures to
defeat the action of the board, and the question was finally referred to
the Court of Appeals for decision.
In the mean time the death of a street commissioner left a
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