New York City

7.15.63.

 

My Dear Sister

                        Thee does not know as yet I reckon, what a reign of terror is ruling here in N.Y. The draft has been resisted by an immense mob, who for two days have had nearly everything their own way. There was no militia here—they all being in Penn—and the Police have been entirely inadequate to the task of suppressing it. I cannot in a letter give thee anything like an idea of the state of affairs. They attacked the drafting offices—burned them, drove off & beated the officers—then began to sack & burn the stores & houses of persons obnoxious to them—Republicans) / They stopped the passenger cars, tore up the track, & forced the manfacturies to stop work & the men to join them. They chase and beat all the poor colored people on the street. Many have been killed & more hurt. They are leaving the city by hundreds. They burned the colored children's orphan asylum on 5^th Av. They are still at their hellish work, but the Police, Citizen Volunteers, & the Malitia now here it is hoped will soon subdue them. They have overpowered them in several conflicts. They have killed many of the rioters—have fixed upon them with both muskets & cannon. It is horrid but there is / nothing else to do—if they get organized & increase they would ruin the city. Neither life nor property are safe now & it will become worse till they are whipped. Poor miserable deluded Irish—such men as Fernando Wood & Gov. Seymour ought to suffer for having led them into such a horrid work & now they make speeches to them—call them "friends" & ask them to go home & be quiet.

 

            I spent last night in Brooklyn where it was very quiet, while here it was all excitement—the patients called up at midnight for fear of fire, on account of colored houses close by which were threatened by the mob. I have not seen any of the bloodshed as I have kept out of the worst district but I have seen some of the poor colored men stoned & beaten & if you dare say a word you get the same treatment. They hung the Colonel who gave the word "fire" to the troops yesterday, then beat him to death. Oh it is horrid—Such is war. I suppose you are full from the late battles. I have not heard from them in 5 or 6 weeks—not a word—I will be in Wilmington next week if I get away from here alive. Let me be sure & find a letter waiting for me there. I go to Wernersville—Dr. Tralls Country Cure tomorrow—expect to go to work there soon.

                                                                       

Thy loving Brother

Presey Heald

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