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.