1863 New York Draft Riots Eyewitness Account

Kevin Loeffler 4-16-09 P.5

Draft Riots of 1863 We had all known it was coming. We had been warned for the last three years that when Lincoln emancipated the slaves that we would face even tougher competition as the free slaves surged northwards. But we never expected what was happening now. “Any news in there about Lee’s movements?” I inquired, “Anything at all on the war?” “Even stricter draft laws…” a man grumbled as he walked down the street with a newspaper. I had heard the day before. All male citizens between twenty and thirty-five and all unmarried men between thirty-five and forty-five years of age were subject to military duty. The federal government entered all eligible men into a lottery. Those who could afford to hire a substitute or pay the government three hundred dollars might avoid enlistment. “A rich mans draft!” someone was yelling up the street. A large mob of people had gathered around him. No, not a mob. It was a full blown riot. “Idiots been at it all morning.”, and on gazing police officer commented. It was true. “You almost have to agree with him. This draft is only affecting the poor and the immigrants.” I said back. The man turned, infuriated. “I just got here from the burning wreckage of an entire office building. FIFTEEN conscription clerks were killed. Union soldiers there about to march south were attacked. Some killed. You would rather sit here and protest then help serve your own…” the man was cut off. Just then cries for help were heard up the street. The riot of Irish and German immigrants had united and turned violent. An enraged group of people had decided to turn their rage onto some African American street vendors. “YOU STOP THAT RIGHT NOW…” the police officer ordered as he ran towards the scene. He was sucked into the mob, being beaten and pushed to the ground. “We will only harm those that get in our way!” one of the protestors vowed. A shrill and scared scream rose over the mumbling and foul words being spat by the rioters. The horror of the scenes I was witnessing was unlike I had ever imagined, much less dreamt of seeing. The large crowd of onlookers was growing by the minute. Gasps could be heard coming from

all directions, although even this couldn’t drown out the nightmarish noise of the riots next vile act. They were attacking a child, no more then 9 or 10 years old. “STOP! What in the heavens do you think you are doing”, I heard one person yell. “You monsters!” another person spat. “You greedy Confederate loving traitors!” The rioters kept on cheering. They were moving up Broadway and Chambers now. Nothing could prepare anyone in the crowd for what the rioter’s next target was. It was too unimaginable and unethical for anyone to expect. They were going to destroy an orphanage for African American children. “All this over bloody conscription papers?!?” I remarked to the person next to me. I couldn’t believe just moments ago I had felt pity for these monstrous men. No one responded for good cause. The rioters flooded through the doors of the institutions doors. “What do you think, seven-thousand men?” one helpless onlooker asked. It was true. With the riots march from the corner at Chambers they had amassed a large number of followers from similar riots going on throughout the rest of the city. “Has to be. Armed too.” I responded, noting the weapons the men now had, from clubs to fierce looking brick bats. Screams began coming from the institution. Rioters inside the building tossed out looted items, tossing blankets and books out the window carelessly. Arson was committed as torches were lit by rioters and tossed inside the building. Fleeing children were attacked by rioters watching the building crumble. The fire department had already arrived. I noticed John Decker, chief engineer of the fire department, from papers discussing fires set the day before. Even with him and the rest of the fire department there the building was unsaveable. It was like looking straight through a window to hell. Children’s screams continued as the rioters didn’t seem to want to cease their mindless violence. “How completely traitorous!” one person remarked as the rioters started burning piles of Union conscription papers and advertisements. A man was running to the center of the mob. He spoke with a very distinct Irish accent, obviously an immigrant.

"If there is a man among you, with a heart within him come and help these poor children!” he bravely yelled (Unknown, http://www.press.uchicago.edu/Misc/Chicago/317749.html)

The mob seemed prepared to tear him to pieces, but his courageous words allowed the children time to run to the local police station. The whole crowd was extremely moved by the Irish immigrant’s action. The man lived. However, the still burning hulk behind him did not. The destruction of one of the most important charities in the city had been destroyed in only twenty minutes. The riots continued. But the moment was among the most inspiring I had ever heard come from any event related to the war. The next day, after witnessing the event the day before, the Irish man was still fresh in my mind. The event made me realize what the Union cause was. It made me realize why they needed conscriptions to help realize that cause. I then understood how unfairly slaves and African Americans were treated in this country, and how it was wrong. The chaos of the day before also made me realize that without union, there is chaos. The southern states must be brought back. I went to a makeshift conscription office the second I finally understood this.