The announcement that Mr. Macready would appear at the Opera House in Macbeth on Thursday evening produced a varied excitement throughout the community. Those who thought the city disgraced by the scenes of Monday night were anxious to have that disgrace atoned for by his successful re-appearance, while those who sympathized with the mob that drove him from the stage, looked upon his re-appearance as a new insult, and the manner in which it was brought about was as irritating to them as the act itself.

A riot was anticipated by all who were acquainted with the circumstances, except, perhaps the object of popular indignation. Mr. Macready was assured that there would be no difficulty, and he seems to have believed it—but those who so assured him well understood that those who had triumphantly driven him from the stage on Monday were not likely to submit quietly to his re-appearance.

Thursday morning, the leaders on both sides were active. The friends of Forrest were gathering their forces, and distributing tickets for the night’s performance, while the lessees of the Opera House applied to the mayor and other authorities of New York for protection. Inflammatory handbills had been posted upon the walls of the city, calculated to increase the excitement. In the mayor’s office, the recorder, the chief of police, the sheriff, Major General Sandford, and Brigadier General Hall, were assembled to consult on the means of protecting the Opera House, and enabling Mr. Macready to play Macbeth.

The mayor, Mr. Woodhull, advised Niblo and Hackett to close the house, and to avoid a riot, and the probable destruction of property and life; but these gentlemen were determined to stand upon their rights, and the city authorities decided, after consulting together, to sustain them, if necessary, with all the force at their disposal. Mr. Matsell, the chief of police, was asked if the civil force at his disposal would be sufficient for the preservation of the peace, and though he had nine hundred salaried policemen at his disposal, and the power of calling in specials at discretion, he gave it as his opinion that this force was not sufficient. It was thought necessary to call out the military.

It has been boldly questioned whether all these extraordinary preparations would have been made to protect the legal rights of humble citizens. Rich and influential men had invited Mr. Macready to play at the aristocratic Opera House. Suppose it had been some third-rate actor at the Chatham; suppose the request for him to play had come from the patrons of that establishment. The abstract question of right would have been the same; but there are many who would doubt whether the city authorities would have taken the extraordinary measure of calling out the military—and this was probably the first time such a thing was ever done under any but the most despotic governments.

The fact of the chief of police declaring that his force was not sufficient to preserve the peace—the fact that General Sandford was ordered to call out a military force sufficient for the emergency, proves that the nature and extent of the approaching riot was well understood by the authorities, and still no means were used to prevent it. It seems to have been their policy to let it gather, and come to a head, when, one would suppose, it might easily have been scattered. Had the police arrested a few of the leaders, and kept a close watch on the rioters—had they taken possession of the vicinity of the Opera House in force, and prevented the gathering of a crowd around it, it seems probable that the peace of the city, and the rights of Mr. Macready might have been maintained at a trifling sacrifice. But a different course was decided upon, and the preparations of the military and police were made accordingly. The chief detached two hundred policemen, to be stationed inside the Opera House. He also placed a detachment in the stable of Mr. Langdon, on the opposite side of Astor-Place, and another body in a yard near by. General Sandford ordered out companies from several regiments, as will be more particularly stated hereafter.

And now the news spread all over the city that there was to be a riot. The warning out of large bodies of military, was alone sufficient to excite curiosity; and yet, in all this excitement and anticipation of outrage, the mayor issued no warning proclamation. There was no one to tell hot-headed and misguided men, that it would be at the peril of their lives, if they disturbed the peace. It is evident that they thought they had a right to prevent Macready from playing. They were doing no more by him than the English had done by Forrest, and they looked upon it as a piece of retributive justice.

It must not be forgotten, that New York, for many years, has been a very quiet city. For ten years, there had not been one serious riot. The principles of law and order are habitually acknowledged, and have seldom been violated. While Philadelphia has been, for years, the scene of the most disgraceful outrages, New York has not known a more serious disturbance than could be controlled by a few policemen. But in this case, every body rushed into a fatal riot, with a mad precipitation. The calling out of the military sent thousands to the scene of conflict, who would not otherwise have gone, swelled the crowd, encouraged the rioters, and contributed to the fatal result.

It is easy to say, people had no business there; they ought to have kept away. It would be hard to show that those who were outside the house had not as good a right to gratify their curiosity as those within. But, right or wrong, we know very well what people will do in such a case. Let it be given out that there is to be a disturbance at any place, and that the military have been called out to put it down, and the consequence will be a gathering crowd, and, if there is the slightest seeming cause, a formidable riot. It seems that all the means used on the tenth of May, to preserve the peace, only helped to bring about the terrible catastrophe.

Mr. Forrest has been charged with actively fomenting these disturbances. Such a charge was made in the Courier & Enquirer, but it was promptly retracted, under threat of prosecution for libel, from Mr. Sedgwick, Forrest’s legal counsel. It does not appear that he moved at all in the matter. He stood passive, and let the affair shape itself as it might, as there is reason to suppose Mr. Macready had done, in England. On the night of the riot, Forrest played to a full house at the Broadway Theatre.

It would seem, after the publication of the card, signed by Washington Irving, Charles King, and about fifty others, denouncing the outrages of Monday night, and pledging themselves to sustain Macready, that the contest took on a new character. Macready was a subordinate personage, and he was to be put down less on his own account, than to spite his aristocratic supporters. The question became not only a national, but a social one. It was the rich against the poor—the aristocracy against the people; and this hatred of wealth and privilege is increasing over the world, and ready to burst out whenever there is the slightest occasion. The rich and well-bred are too apt to despise the poor and ignorant, and they must not think it strange if they are hated in return.