The Great Riots of New York, 1712 to 1873Headley, Joel Tyler
History
The Great Riots of New York, 1712 to 1873
Headley, Joel Tyler
Draft Riot, New York, N.Y., 1863; New York (N.Y.) -- History; Riots -- New York (State) -- New York
On their ears again and again would ring the fearful cry, "There
goes Kennedy's spies;" and it required the most consummate acting and
self-possession to allay the suspicion. Often on a single word or act
hinged their very lives. Some of these men were in the mob that made the
first attack on Mayor Opdyke's house, and while apparently acting with
it, learned of the intended movement down to police head-quarters, and
at once telegraphed the fact, which enabled Carpenter to prepare for
them, and give them the terrible beating we have described. At the
burning and sacking of different buildings they were present, and often
would follow unnoticed the ringleaders for hours, tracking them with the
tireless tenacity of a sleuth hound, until they got them separate from
the crowd, and then pounce suddenly upon them, and run them into the
nearest station. The lawlessness that prevailed not only let loose all
the thieves and burglars of the city, but attracted those from other
places, who practised their vocation with impunity. To lessen this
evil, the detectives one night quietly made visits to some half a dozen
"lushing cribs," as they are called, in Eighth and Fourteenth Streets,
and seized about thirty noted thieves, burglars, and garroters, and
locked them up for safe-keeping. They also warned the negroes of
threatened danger, and directed them, to places of safety; and in case
of emergency acted as guides to the military in their operations. In
short, they were ubiquitous, indefatigable, and of immense service. They
played the part of unerring pointers to the commissioners, telling them
when and where to strike; yet strange to say, such was their skill,
their ingenuity, and exhaustless resources, that they all escaped being
assaulted, save one named Slowly. He was passing through the very
heart of the riotous district, in Second Avenue, when some one who had
evidently been once in his clutches, recognized him, and pointing him
out, shouted "Detective!" Instantly a rush was made for him, and he was
knocked down, and kicked and stamped upon. Regaining, with a desperate
effort, his feet, he sprang up the steps of a house, and fought his
assailants fiercely, till the lady of the house, seeing his perilous
situation, courageously opened the door and let him in, and then bolted
and barred it in the face of the mob. Through some strange apprehension,
the baffled wretches, though they howled, and swore, and threatened, did
not force an entrance, and he escaped.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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