An Original Belle Part 63

The mob in the street had not ventured on anything more offensive than jeers and curses, but when Carpenter's command reached 32d Street it was a.s.sailed in a new and deadly manner. Rioters, well provided with stones and brick-bats, had stationed themselves on the roofs, and, deeming themselves secure, began to rain the missiles on the column below, which formed but too conspicuous a mark. This was a new and terrible danger which Merwyn had not antic.i.p.ated, and he wondered how Carpenter would meet the emergency. Comrades were falling around him, and a stone grazed his shoulder which would have brained him had it struck his head.

Their leader never hesitated a moment. The command, "Halt, charge those houses, brain every devil that resists," rang down the line.

The crowd on the sidewalk gave way before the deeply incensed and resolute officers of the law. Merwyn, with a half-dozen others, seized a heavy pole which had been cut down in order to destroy telegraphic communication, and, using it as a ram, crashed in the door of a tall tenement-house on the roof of which were a score of rioters, meantime escaping their missiles as by a miracle. Rushing in, paying no heed to protests, and clubbing those who resisted, he kept pace with the foremost. In his left hand, however, he carried his trusty revolver, for he did not propose to be a.s.sa.s.sinated by skulkers in the dark pa.s.sage-ways. Seeing a man levelling a gun from a dusky corner, he fired instantly, and man and gun dropped.

As the guardians of the law approached the scuttle, having fought their way thither, the ruffians stood ready to hurl down bricks, torn from the chimneys; but two or three well-aimed shots cleared the way, and the policemen were on the roof, bringing down a man with every blow. One brawny fellow rushed upon Merwyn, but received such a stroke on his temple that he fell, rolled off the roof, and struck the pavement, a crushed and shapeless ma.s.s.

The a.s.saults upon the other houses were equally successful, but the fight was a severe one, and was maintained for nearly an hour.

The mob was appalled by the fate of their friends, and looked on in sullen, impotent anger.

Having cleared the houses, the police re-formed in the street, and marched away to other turbulent districts.

Only the military were left, and had formed about a block further to the north. Beyond the feeble demonstration of the invalid corps the rioters, as yet, had had no experience with the soldiery. That policemen would use their clubs was to them a matter of course, but they scarcely believed that cannon and musketry would be employed.

Moreover, they were maddened and reckless that so many of their best and bravest had been put hors de combat. The brief paralysis caused by the remorseless clubs of the police pa.s.sed, and like a sluggish monster, the mob, aroused to sudden fury, pressed upon the soldiery, hurling not only the vilest epithets but every missile on which they could lay their hands. Colonel O'Brien, in command for the moment, rode through the crowd, supposing he could overawe them by his fearless bearing; but they only scoffed at him, and the attack upon his men grew more bold and reckless.

The limit of patience was pa.s.sed. "Fire!" he thundered, and the howitzers poured their deadly canister point-blank into the throng.

At the same time the soldiers discharged their muskets. Not only men, but women fell on every side, one with a child in her arms.

A warfare in which women stand an equal chance for death and wounds is a terrible thing, and yet this is usually an inseparable feature of mob-fighting. However, setting aside the natural and instinctive horror at injuring a woman, the depraved creatures in the streets were deserving of no more sympathy than their male abettors in every species of outrage. They did their utmost to excite and keep alive the pa.s.sions of the hour. Many were armed with knives, and did not hesitate to use them, and when stronger hands broke in the doors of shops and dwellings they swarmed after,--the most greedy and unscrupulous of plunderers. If a negro man, woman, or child fell into their hands, none were more brutal than the uns.e.xed hags of the mob.

If on this, and other occasions, they had remained in their homes they would not have suffered, nor would the men have been so ferocious in their violence. They were the first to yield to panic, however, and now their shrieks were the loudest and their efforts to escape out of the deadly range of the guns the most frantic.

In a few moments the avenue was cleared, and the military marched away, leaving the dead and wounded rioters where they had fallen, as the police had done before. Instantly the friends of the sufferers gathered them up and carried them into concealment.

This feature, from the first, was one of the most marked characteristics of the outbreak. The number of rioters killed and wounded could be only guessed at approximately, for every effort was made to bury the bodies secretly, and keep the injured in seclusion until they either died or recovered. Almost before a fight was over the prostrate rioters would be spirited away by friends or relatives on the watch.

The authorities were content to have it so, for they had no place or time for the poor wretches, and the police understood that they were to strike blows that would incapacitate the recipients for further mischief.

In the same locality which had witnessed his morning fight, Colonel O'Brien, later in the day, met a fate too horrible to be described.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

DESPERATE FIGHTING.

HAVING again reached police headquarters, Merwyn rested but a short time and then joined a force of two hundred men under Inspector Dilkes, and returned to the same avenue in which he had already incurred such peril. The mob, having discovered that it must cope with the military as well as the police, became eager to obtain arms. It so happened that several thousand carbines were stored in a wire factory in Second Avenue, and the rioters had learned the fact. Therefore they swarmed thither, forced an entrance, and began to arm themselves and their comrades. A despatch to headquarters announced the attack at its commencement, and the force we have named was sent off in hot haste to wrest from the mob the means of more effective resistance. Emerging into the avenue from 21st Street, Dilkes found the thoroughfare solid with rioters, who, instead of giving way, greeted the police with bitter curses. Hesitating not a moment on account of vast inequality of numbers, the leader formed his men and charged. The mob had grown reckless with every hour, and it now closed on the police with the ferocity of a wild beast. A terrible hand-to-hand conflict ensued, and Merwyn found himself warding off and giving blows with the enemy so near that he could almost feel their hot, tainted breath on his cheek, while horrid visages inflamed with hate and fury made impressions on his mind that could not easily pa.s.s away. It was a close, desperate encounter, and the scorching July sun appeared to kindle pa.s.sion on either side into tenfold intensity. While the police were disciplined men, obeying every order and doing nothing at random, they WERE men, and they would not have been human if anger and thoughts of vengeance had not nerved their arms as they struck down ruffians who would show no more mercy to the wounded or captured than would a man-eating tiger.

Since the mob would not give way, the police cut a b.l.o.o.d.y path through the throng, and forced their way like a wedge to the factory.

Their orders were to capture all arms; and when a rioter was seen with a carbine or a gun of any kind, one or more of the police would rush out of the ranks and seize it, then fight their way back.

By the time they reached the factory so many of the mob had been killed or wounded, and so many of their leaders were dead or disabled, that it again yielded to panic and fled. One desperate leader, although already bruised and bleeding, had for a time inspired the mob with much of his own reckless fury, and was left almost alone by his fleeing companions. His courage, which should have been displayed in a better cause, cost him dear, for a tremendous blow sent him reeling against a fence, the sharp point of one of the iron pickets caught under his chin, and he hung there unheeded, impaled and dying. He was afterwards taken down, and beneath his soiled overalls and filthy shirt was a fair, white skin, clad in ca.s.simere trousers, a rich waistcoat, and the finest of linen.

His delicate, patrician features emphasized the mystery of his personality and action.

When all resistance in the street was overcome, there still remained the factory, thronged with armed and defiant rioters. Dilkes ordered the building to be cleared, and Merwyn took his place in the storming party. We shall not describe the scenes that followed.

It was a strife that differed widely from Lane's cavalry charge on the lawn of a Southern plantation, with the eyes of fair women watching his deeds. Merwyn was not taking part with thousands in a battle that would be historic as Strahan and Blauvelt had done at Gettysburg. Every element of romance and martial inspiration was wanting. It was merely a life-and-death encounter between a handful of policemen and a grimy, desperate band of ruffians, cornered like rats, and resolved to sell their lives dearly.

The building was cleared, and at last Merwyn, exhausted and panting, came back with his comrades and took his place in the ranks. His club was b.l.o.o.d.y, and his revolver empty. The force marched away in triumph escorting wagons loaded with all the arms they could find, and were cheered by the better-disposed spectators that remained on the scene of action.

The desperate tenacity of the mob is shown by the fact that it returned to the wire factory, found some boxes of arms that had been overlooked, filled the great five-story building and the street about it, and became so defiant that the same battle had to be fought again in the afternoon with the aid of the military.

For the sake of making a definite impression we have touched upon the conflicts taking place in one locality. But throughout this awful day there were mobs all over the city, with fighting, plundering, burning, the chasing and murdering of negroes occurring at the same time in many and widely separated sections. Telegrams for aid were pouring into headquarters from all parts of the city, large tracts of which were utterly unprotected. The police and military could be employed only in bodies sufficiently large to cope with gatherings of hundreds or thousands. Individual outrages and isolated instances of violence and plunder could not be prevented.

But law-abiding citizens were realizing their danger and awakening to a sense of their duty. Over four hundred special policemen were sworn in. Merchants and bankers in Wall Street met and resolved to close business. Millionnaires vied with their clerks and porters in patriotic readiness to face danger. Volunteer companies were formed, and men like Hon. William E. Dodge, always foremost in every good effort in behalf of the city, left their offices for military duty. While thousands of citizens escaped from the city, with their families, not knowing where they would find a refuge, and obeying only the impulse to get away from a place apparently doomed, other thousands remained, determined to protect their hearths and homes and to preserve their fair metropolis from destruction. Terrible as was the mob, and tenfold more terrible as it would have been if it had used its strength in an organized effort and with definite purpose, forces were now awakening and concentrating against it which would eventually destroy every vestige of lawlessness. With the fight on Broadway, during Monday evening, the supreme crisis had pa.s.sed. After that the mob fought desperate but losing battles.

Acton, with Napoleonic nerve and skill, had time to plan and organize. General Brown with his brave troops reached him on Monday night, and thereafter the two men, providentially brought and kept together, met and overcame, in cordial co-operation, every danger as it arose. Their names should never be forgotten by the citizens of New York. Acton, as chief of police, was soon feared more than any other man in the city, and he began to receive anonymous letters a.s.suring him that he had "but one more day to live." He tossed them contemptuously aside, and turned to the telegrams imploring a.s.sistance. In every blow struck his iron will and heavy hand were felt. For a hundred hours, through the storm, he kept his hand on the helm and never closed his eyes. He inspired confidence in the men who obeyed him, and the humblest of them became heroes.

The city was smitten with an awful paralysis. Stages and street cars had very generally ceased running; shops were closed; Broadway and other thoroughfares and centres usually so crowded were at times almost deserted; now and then a hack would whirl by with occupants that could not be cla.s.sified. They might be leaders of the mob, detectives, or citizens in disguise bent on public or private business. On one occasion a millionnaire whose name is known and honored throughout the land, dressed in the mean habiliments of a laborer, drove a wagon up Broadway in which was concealed a load of arms and ammunition. In hundreds of homes fathers and sons kept watch with rifles and revolvers, while city and State authorities issued proclamations.

It was a time of strange and infinite vicissitude, yet apparently the mob steadily attained vaster and more terrible proportions, and everywhere lawlessness was on the increase, especially in the upper portions of the city.

Mr. Vosburgh, with stern and clouded brow, obtained information from all available sources, and flashed the vital points to Washington.

He did not leave Marian alone very long, and as the day advanced kept one of his agents in the house during his absences. He failed to meet Merwyn at headquarters, but learned of the young man's brave action from one of his wounded comrades.

When Mr. Vosburgh told Marian of the risks which her new friend was incurring, and the nature of the fighting in which he was engaged, she grew so pale and agitated that he saw that she was becoming conscious of herself, of the new and controlling element entering into her life.

This self-knowledge was made tenfold clearer by a brief visit from Mrs. Ghegan.

"Oh! how dared you come?" cried Marian.

"The strates are safe enough for the loikes o' me, so oi kape out o' the crowds," was the reply, "but they're no place fer ye, Miss Marian. Me brogue is a pa.s.sword iverywhere, an' even the crowds is civil and dacent enough onless something wakes the divil in 'em;"

and then followed a vivid account of her experiences and of the timely help Merwyn had given her.

"The docthers think me Barney'll live, but oi thank Misther Merwyn that took him out o' the very claws uv the b.l.o.o.d.y divils, and not their bat's eyes. Faix, but he tops all yez frin's, Miss Marian, tho'

ye're so could to 'im. All the spalpanes in the strates couldn't make 'im wink, yet while I was a-wailin' over Barney he was as tender-feelin' as a baby."

The girl's heart fluttered strangely at the words of her former maid, but she tried to disguise her emotion. When again left alone she strained her ears for every sound from the city, and was untiring in her watch. From noon till evening she kept a dainty lunch ready for Merwyn, but he did not come.

After the young man's return from his second fight he was given some rest. In the afternoon, he, with others, was sent on duty to the west side, the force being carried thither in stages which Acton had impressed into the service. One driver refused to stir, saying, insolently, that he had "not been hired to carry policemen."

"Lock that man in cell No. 4," was Acton's answer, while, in the same breath, he ordered a policeman to drive.

That was the superintendent's style of arguing and despatching business.

Merwyn again saw plenty of service, for the spirit of pandemonium was present in the west side. Towards evening, however, the rioters ceased their aimless and capricious violence, and adopted in their madness the dangerous method of Parisian mobs. They began throwing up a series of barricades in Eighth Avenue. Vehicles of all kinds within reach, telegraph poles, boxes,--anything that would obstruct,--were wired together. Barricades were also erected on cross-streets, to prevent flank movements. Captain Walling, of the police, who was on duty in the precinct, appreciated the importance of abolishing this feature from street fighting as speedily as possible, and telegraphed to headquarters for a co-operating military force. He also sent to General Sanford, at the a.r.s.enal, for troops. They were promised, but never sent. General Brown, fortunately, was a man of a very different stamp from Sanford, and he promptly sent a body of regulars.

Captain Slott took command of the police detailed to co-operate with the soldiers, and, with their officers, waited impatiently and vainly for the company promised by Sanford. Meanwhile the mob was strengthening its defences with breathless energy, and the sun was sinking in the west. As the difficult and dangerous work to be done required daylight it was at last resolved to wait no longer.

As the a.s.sailants drew near the barricade, they received a volley, accompanied by stones and other missiles. The police fell back a little to the left, and the troops, advancing, returned the fire.

But the rioters did not yield, and for a time the crash of musketry resounded through the avenue, giving the impression of a regular pitched battle. The accurate aim of the soldiers, however, at last decided the contest, and the rioters fled to the second barricade, followed by the troops, while the police tore away the captured obstruction.

Obtaining a musket and cartridges from a wounded soldier, Merwyn, by explaining that he was a good marksman, obtained the privilege of fighting on the left flank of the military.