Chapter 2

MY DEAR FRIEND:

You are aware that the late incursion of the enemy was not the first visit we had from our Southern "friends." In the fall of 1862 we had Stuart's cavalry raid, and in 1863 the invasion by Lee's army. Since the first of July of the present year, up to the time of McCausland's advent, the entire community, especially the farmers, were kept in constant uneasiness. Twice before had they been robbed of horses, wagons, and grain. The wheat harvest had just commenced, and now the enemy was again on the border. During the first three weeks of July, the farmers felt it necessary to remove their most valuable personal property. Merchants packed up and sent away, at least a portion of their goods, eastward. But in each case the rebels did _not_ come, and some degree of apathy in the community was the result. But this did not last long. On the morning of July 29th, unmistakable evidence of the crossing of squads of rebel cavalry over the Potomac, reached us. The citizens of Chambersburg, with very few exceptions, remained. Indeed, early in the evening we were assured that a considerable force of our troops were on their way from Harrisburg, which, however, like many previous assurances, telegrams, and rumors, was not realized. Our scouts soon reported the near approach of the rebels, and by three o'clock on the morning of Saturday, the 30th, the citizens who had gone out with their arms and a section of the battery, having satisfied themselves of the overpowering strength of the enemy, fell back to town. Three shells were now thrown over the town by the rebels from the hills beyond, and as these did not elicit any reply, eight hundred and thirty-one of their number came to town, their skirmishers simultaneously investing every street and alley, gradually moving forward, and then halting until the signal or forward command was again given. We were once more in subjection to rebel rule. The centre of the town was filled with them. They called together several of the citizens who were on the street, requesting them to collect some of the prominent inhabitants, with a view to entering into negotiations. To this end the Court-House bell was rung. The summons to the citizens was very partially obeyed. It was felt that nothing could be done by negotiation, and that they must submit to pillage--the most they anticipated. The few who did come together were approached by Captain Fitzhugh, one of McCausland's staff, who produced and read a written order, signed by General Jubal Early, directing the command to proceed to Chambersburg, demand a tribute of $100,000 in gold, or $500,000 in Northern currency, and, on the failure to secure this sum, to proceed to burn the town, in retaliation for the burning of six or eight houses specified as having been burned in certain counties in Virginia by General Hunter. The citizens stated that it was utterly impossible to pay the sum named either in gold or currency, and that the demand could not be made in good faith. They further remonstrated against the monstrosity of burning a whole town of six thousand inhabitants, in retaliation for the six or eight houses named. So utterly incredulous were they as to the threat being actually carried out, that they expressed their incredulity without reserve. Captain Fitzhugh replied with a clinching oath, that these orders would be carried out very quickly. He immediately issued his orders to his men, a barrel of kerosene and matches were secured, and in less than twenty minutes the town was fired in a dozen places, and they continued the incendiary work for about one hour. I may here say, that most of the store-goods had been removed, and a few prominent citizens had left, but that no families, women, or children had departed. The burning was executed in a most ruthless and unrelenting manner.[5]

"A squad of men would approach a house, break open the door, and kindle a fire, with no other notice to the inmates, except to get out of it as soon as they could. In many cases, five, ten, fifteen minutes were asked to secure some clothing, which _were refused_. Many families escaped with only the clothing they had on, and such as they could gather up in their haste. In many cases they were _not allowed to take these_, but were threatened with instant death if they did not cast them away and flee. Sick and aged people had to be carried to the fields. The corpse of at least one person who had recently died, was hastily interred in the garden, and children, separated from their parents, ran wildly screaming through the streets. Those whose stupor or eagerness to save something, detained them, emerged with difficulty from the streets filled with the sheeted flames of their burning homes. I should say here, that no provocation had been given; not a shot was fired on them in entering the town, and not until the full crisis was reached, did desperation, in a few instances, lead to desperate acts.

"As to the result, I may say that the entire heart or body of the town is burned. Not a house or building of any kind is left on a space of about an average of two squares of streets, extending each way from the centre, with some four or five exceptions, where the buildings were isolated. Only the outskirts are left. The Court-house, Bank, Town Hall, German Reformed Printing Establishment, every store and hotel in the town, and every mill and factory in the space indicated, and two churches, were burnt. Between three and four hundred dwellings were burned, leaving at least twenty-five hundred persons without a home or a hearth. In value, three-fourths of the town was destroyed. The scene of desolation must be seen to be appreciated. Crumbling walls, stacks of chimneys, and smoking embers, are all that remain of once elegant and happy homes.

"As to the scene itself, it beggars description. My own residence being in the outskirts, and feeling it the call of duty to be with my family, I could only look on from without. The day was sultry and calm, not a breath stirring, and each column of smoke rose black, straight, and single; first one, and then another, and another, and another, until the columns blended and commingled; and then one vast and lurid column of smoke and flame rose perpendicularly to the sky, and spread out into a vast crown, like a cloud of sackcloth hanging over the doomed city; whilst the roar and the surging, the crackling and crash of falling timbers and walls, broke upon the still air with a fearful dissonance, and the screams and sounds of agony of burning animals, hogs, and cows, and horses, made the welkin horrid with sounds of woe. It was a scene to be witnessed and heard once in a lifetime."

To you and other friends, more or less familiar with Chambersburg, it will be interesting to specify a little more particularly the localities which have been laid waste. Beginning on East Market street, the one leading from Gettysburg to Pittsburg, directly through the centre of the town from east to west, the burning commenced simultaneously with the Court-house and Mansion-house (Printing Establishment of the German Reformed Church). Facing the west from the Franklin railroad, the first building to the right is the residence of the Misses Denny, in a somewhat isolated position. This stands in its freshness and beauty, solitary and alone. Passing down two squares to the centre of the town, not one building and only two or three stables or barns remain on either side of this street of private residences, my own with all of my library and manuscripts, among the number. Passing further on westward for more than three squares in length, to the top of "New England Hill," five or six more or less isolated houses remain. The large Franklin Hotel, the Arcade Buildings, John B. Cook's houses and tannery, Riley's Hotel, the late Matthew Gillan's large dwelling, J. M. Wolfkill's store and dwelling, G. W. Brewer's and Mrs. Joseph Chambers's beautiful residences, are among the many valuable properties on this street, in ruins.

Then from North Main street (the street from Carlisle to Greencastle), beginning with Mr. Benjamin Chambers's new residence, at the Falling Spring, and Mr. W. G. Reed's, on the corner, and from here on every house on both sides up the square, on to the centre, across it to Queen street, and up to Washington street, with the exception of Rev. Dr. Fisher's, Mr. Reineman's, Lehner's, and Feltman's dwellings, every house, shop, stable, &c., is gone. This street, as you know, contained more than three-fourths of all our stores, ware-rooms, and shops of business. Then comes Queen street, at the intersection of Second street, beginning at Brandt's (now Brown's) hotel, which was only partially destroyed, sweeping every building (except Mrs. Brandt's dwelling), on both sides down to the creek, over two squares, including Dr. Culbertson's, N. Snider's, Barnard Wolff's, Mr. Wallace's, and other valuable dwellings and stores. Between eleven and twelve squares of the best part of the town are, therefore, in ruins, among them houses of many, inhabitants, whom you knew in former years as among your dearest friends, and in comfortable or affluent circumstances, many of them now reduced to penury and want.

After I had written the preceding pages, I found a minute and well-written statement of the subject now in hand in the "Franklin Repository," of this place, of August 24. I take pleasure in giving the following extracts from the same, instead of my own, as the matter was evidently prepared with judgment and care, under the supervision of its editor, Colonel McClure. He says:

"It seems inexplicable to persons and journals at a distance that General Couch, a Major-General commanding a department, with his border repeatedly invaded, should have no troops. The natural inclination is to blame the commander, for it is reasonable to suppose that he would endeavor to have an adequate command, and also that ample authority would be given him to have sufficient force. Just where the blame belongs, we do not choose now to discuss; but we do know that it was no fault of General Couch that he was unable to defend Chambersburg. He organized a Provost Guard regiment, some twelve hundred strong, expressly for duty in his department; the men were enlisted under a positive assurance, based on the order authorizing the organization, that they were to be kept on duty in the department. They were ordered to General Grant after the battles of the Wilderness. He organized six regiments of one hundred days' men before the advent of McCausland, and they were ordered to Washington as soon as they were ready to move. We are assured that Governor Curtin, fully two weeks before the burning of Chambersburg, formally pledged the State to make provision for arming, organizing, and paying the entire militia force of the border for home defence, if the General Government would simply give the uniforms; and we believe that General Couch pressed it upon the Washington authorities to uniform the entire force of the southern counties, assuring them that the people were willing to defend themselves if encouraged by granting them uniforms, so as to save them from inhuman butchery, but it was denied. We do not speak advisedly as to General Couch's correspondence with the Washington authorities; we give no statements at his instance, or based upon information received from him or his officers; but we do write whereof we know, when we say that every effort was made to carry these measures into effect, and that they were not sanctioned at Washington. While we do not assume to fix the responsibility of this terrible disaster, we do mean that it shall not fall upon a commander who was shorn of his strength and left helpless with his people.

The Rebels Enter Chambersburg

"The rebels having been interrupted in their entrance into the town until daylight, they employed their time in planting two batteries in commanding positions, and getting up their whole column, fully three thousand strong. About 4 o'clock on Saturday morning they opened with their batteries and fired some half a dozen shots into the town, but they did no damage. Immediately thereafter their skirmishers entered by almost every street and alley running out west and southwest; and finding their way clear, their cavalry, to the number of eight hundred and thirty-one, came in under the immediate command of General McCausland. General Bradley Johnson was with him, and also the notorious Major Harry Gilmore.

Plundering Promptly Commenced.

"While McCausland and Gilmore were reconnoitring around to get a deal with the citizens for tribute, his soldiers exhibited the proficiency of their training by immediate and almost indiscriminate robbery. Hats, caps, boots, watches, silverware, and everything of value, were appropriated from individuals on the streets without ceremony; and when a man was met whose appearance indicated a plethoric purse, a pistol would be presented to his head with the order to "deliver," with a dexterity that would have done credit to the freebooting accomplishments of an Italian brigand.

Tribute Demanded.

"General McCausland rode up to a number of citizens and gave notice that unless five hundred thousand dollars in greenbacks, or one hundred thousand dollars in gold were paid in half an hour, the town would be burned; but no one responded to his call. He was promptly answered that Chambersburg could not and would not pay any ransom. He had the Court House bell rung to convene the citizens, hoping to frighten them into the payment of a large sum of money, but no one attended. Infuriated at the determination of our people, Major Gilmore rode up to a group of citizens, consisting of Thomas B. Kennedy, William McLellan, J. McDowell Sharpe, Dr. J. C. Richards, William H. McDowell, W. S. Everett, Edward G. Etter, and M. A. Foltz, and ordered them under arrest. He said that they would be held for the payment of the money, and if not paid he would take them to Richmond as hostages, and also burn every house in town. While he was endeavoring to force them into an effort to raise him money, his men commenced the work of firing, and they were discharged when it was found that intimidation would effect nothing.

Burning of Chambersburg.

"The main part of the town was enveloped in flames in ten minutes. No time was given to remove women or children, the sick, or even the dead. No notice of the kind was communicated to any one; but the work of destruction was at once commenced. They divided into squads and fired every other house, and often every house, if there was any prospect of plunder. They would beat in the door with iron bars or heavy plank, smash up furniture with an axe, throw fluid or oil upon it, and ply the match. They almost invariably entered every room of each house, rifled the drawers of every bureau, appropriated money, jewelry, watches and any other valuables, and often would present pistols to the heads of inmates, men and women, and demand money or their lives. In nearly half the instances they demanded owners to ransom their property, and in a few cases it was done and the property burned. Although we have heard of a number of persons, mostly widows, who paid them sums from twenty-five to two hundred dollars, we know of but few cases where the property was saved thereby. Few houses escaped rifling--nearly all were plundered of everything that could be carried away. In most cases houses were entered in the rudest manner, and no time whatever was allowed for the families to escape, much less to save anything. Many families had the utmost difficulty to get themselves and children out in time, and not one-half had so much as a change of clothing with them. They would rush from story to story to rob, and always fire the building at once in order to keep the family from detecting their robberies. Feeble and helpless women and children were treated like brutes--told insolently to get out or burn; and even the sick were not spared. Several invalids had to be carried out as the red flames licked their couches. Thus the work of desolation continued for two hours; more than half of the town on fire at once, and the wild glare of the flames, the shrieks of women and children, and often louder than all, the terrible blasphemy of the rebels, conspired to present such a scene of horror as has never been witnessed by the present generation. No one was spared save by accident. The widow and the fatherless cried and plead in vain that they would be homeless and helpless. A rude oath would close all hope of mercy, and they would fly to save their lives. The old and infirm who tottered before them were thrust aside, and the torch applied in their presence to hasten their departure. In a few hours, the major portion of Chambersburg, its chief wealth and business, its capital and elegance, were devoured by a barbarous foe; three millions of property sacrificed; three thousand human beings homeless and many penniless; and all without so much as a pretence that the citizens of the doomed town, or any of them, had violated any accepted rule of civilized warfare. Such is the deliberate, voluntary record made by General Early, a corps commander in the insurgent army.

Incidents of the Burning.

We find it impossible to make room for all the many touching incidents which occurred in the burning of the town. The house of Mr. James Watson, an old and feeble man of over eighty, was entered, and because his wife earnestly remonstrated against the burning, they fired the room, hurled her into it and locked the door on the outside. Her daughters rescued her by bursting in the door before her clothing took fire. Mr. Jacob Wolfkill, a very old citizen, and prostrated by sickness so that he was utterly unable to be out of bed, plead in vain to be spared a horrible death in the flames of his own house; but they fired the building. Through the superhuman efforts of some friends he was carried away safely. Mrs. Lindsay, a very feeble lady of nearly eighty, fainted when they fired her house, and was left to be devoured in the flames: but fortunately a relative reached the house in time, and lifting her in a buggy, pulled her away while the flames were kissing each other over their heads on the street. Mrs. Kuss, wife of the jeweller on Main Street, lay dead; and although they were shown the dead body, they plied the torch and burned the house. Mrs. J. K. Shryock had Mrs. Kuss's sick babe in her arms, and plead for the sake of the dead mother and sick child to spare that house, but it was unavailing. The body of Mrs. Kuss was hurriedly buried in the garden, and the work of destruction went on. When the flames drove Mrs. Shryock away with the child, she went to one of the men and presenting the babe, said, "_Is this revenge sweet?_" A tender chord was touched, and without speaking he burst into tears. He afterwards followed Mrs. Shryock, and asked whether he could do anything for her; but it was too late. The houses of Messrs. McLellan, Sharpe and Nixon, being located east of the Franklin Railroad, and out of the business part of the town, were not reached until the rest of the town was in flames, and the roads were streaming with homeless women and children. Mr. McLellan's residence was the first one entered, and he was notified that the house must be burned. Mrs. McLellan immediately stepped to the door, and laying one hand on the rebel officer, and pointing with the other to the frantic fugitive women and children passing by, said to him: "_Sir, is not your vengeance glutted? We have a home and can get another; but can you spare no homes for those poor, helpless people and their children? When you and I and all of us shall meet before the Great Judge, can you justify this act?_" He made no reply, but ordered his command away, and that part of the town was saved. Mr. Holmes Crawford, an aged and most worthy citizen, was taken into an alley while his house was burning, and his pockets rifled. He was thus detained until it was impossible for him to get out by the street, and he had to take his feeble wife and sit in the rear of his lot until the buildings around him were burnt down. Father McCullom, Catholic priest of this place, was robbed of his watch. Colonel Stumbaugh was arrested near his home early in the morning, and, with a pistol presented to his head, ordered to procure some whiskey. He refused, for the very good reason that he had none and could get none. He was released, but afterwards re-arrested by another squad, the officer naming him, and was insulted in every possible way. He informed the officer that he had been in the service, and that if General Battles was present, they would not dare to insult him. When asked why, he answered, "I captured him at Shiloh, and treated him like a soldier." A rebel Major present, who had been under Battles, upon inquiry, was satisfied that Colonel Stumbaugh's statement was correct, ordered his prompt release, and withdrew the entire rebel force from that part of Second Street, and no buildings were burned. Mr. John Treher, of Loudon, was robbed by the rebels of $200 in gold and silver, and $100 in currency. Mr. D. R. Knight, an artist, started out to the residence of Mr. McClure when he saw Norland on fire, and on his way he was robbed of all his money by a squad of rebels. He reached the house in time to aid in getting the women away. Rebel officers had begged of him, before he started, to get the women out of town as fast as possible, as many rebel soldiers were intoxicated and they feared the worst consequences.

Colonel McClure's beautiful residence, one mile from the centre of the town, was evidently marked out for destruction, for no other house between it and the burnt portion of the town was fired. The Colonel was known as a prominent man in National and State affairs, and, after the raid of General Jenkins and the succeeding invasion by General Lee's army, he had spoken of Jenkins and his men in no complimentary terms in the paper of which Colonel McClure is chief editor. And although no house in the community was more coveted by rebel officers to be quartered in than his, and for the reason, doubtless, that every comfort and luxury could be had in it, and although Mrs. McClure had, with her well known generosity and kindness of heart, ministered to the necessities and comforts of the sick and wounded insurgents, which were left during General Lee's invasion, for which she has since received the most touching acknowledgments from some of them--yet, his property was doomed, irrevocably doomed to be burnt. Captain Smith, son of Governor Smith of Virginia, with a squad of men, passing by all the intervening houses, entered the devoted mansion with the information to Mrs. McClure, then and for some time before an invalid, that the house must be burned by way of retaliation. Ten minutes were given her in which to leave the house, and in less than ten minutes the flames were doing their work of destruction, and Mrs. McClure and the other members of the family at home, started on foot, in the heat of one of the hottest days I have ever known, in order to escape the vengeance of the chivalry. Whilst the flames were progressing in the house as well as the large and well-filled barn, the Captain helped himself to Mrs. McClure's gold watch, silver pitcher and other valuables. The gold watch and other articles were easily concealed, but the silver pitcher was rather unwieldy, and could not be secreted from profane eyes as he rode back through town from the scene of his triumph. He resolved, therefore, to give a public display of his generosity. He stopped at the house of the Rev. James Kennedy, and handed the pitcher to his wife, with the request, "Please deliver this to Mrs. Colonel McClure, with the compliments of Captain Smith."

Humane Rebel Officers.

Fiendish and relentless as were McCausland and most of his command, there were notable exceptions, who bravely maintained the humanities of war in the midst of the infuriated freebooters who were plying the torch and securing plunder. Surgeon Abraham Budd was conversing with several citizens when the demand for tribute was made, and he assured all present that the rebel commander would not burn Chambersburg. In the midst of his assurances, the flames burst forth almost simultaneously in every part of the town. When he saw the fire break out, he wept like a child, and publicly denounced the atrocities of his commander. He took no part in it whatever, save to aid some unfortunate ones in escaping from the flames. Captain Baxter, formerly of Baltimore, peremptorily refused to participate in the burning, but aided many people to get some clothing and other articles out of the houses. He asked a citizen, as a special favor, to write to his friends in Baltimore and acquit him of the hellish work. Surgeon Richardson, another Baltimorean, gave his horse to a lady to get some articles out of the burning town, and publicly deplored the sad work of McCausland. When asked who his commanding officer was, he answered, "Madam, I am ashamed to say that General McCausland is my commander!" Captain Watts manfully saved all of Second street south of Queen, and with his command aided to arrest the flames. He said that he would lose his commission rather than burn out defenceless people; and other officers and a number of privates displayed every possible evidence of their humanity. After the rebels had left, the following note was received by Rev. S. J. Niccolls, Presbyterian pastor, written on an envelope with a pencil:

REV. MR. NICCOLLS:

Please write my father and give him my love. Tell him, too, as Mrs. Shoemaker will tell you, that I was most strenuously opposed to the burning of the town.

B. B. BLAIR, Chaplain, and son of Thomas P. Blair, Shippensburg, Pa.

That there was a most formidable opposition to burning the town in McCausland's command was manifested in various ways. In the morning before daylight, when McCausland was at Greenawalt's, on the turnpike west of Chambersburg, a most boisterous council was held there, at which there were earnest protests made to McCausland against burning anything but public property. McCausland was greatly incensed at some of his officers, and threatened them with most summary vengeance if they refused to obey orders.[6] Many, however, did openly disobey, and went even so far as to give the utmost publicity to their disobedience.

The Order to Burn Chambersburg.

Captain Fitzhugh exhibited to J. W. Douglas, Esq., an attorney of this place, a written order, with the name of Jubal A. Early to it, directing that Chambersburg should be burned, in retaliation for the burning of six houses in Virginia by Hunter. The burning of Chambersburg was therefore by an order from one of the corps commanders of General Lee's army, instead of the work of a guerrilla chief, thus placing the responsibility squarely upon the shoulders of General Lee. We have in support of this the statement of Rev. Mr. Edwards, Episcopal clergyman of Hagerstown, who was taken as a hostage after Chambersburg had been destroyed. He was brought to General Early's headquarters at Williamsport, and there paroled to effect his exchange. General Early there informed him that he had directed Chambersburg to be burned, in retaliation for the destruction of property in Virginia by Grant, Meade, and Hunter, and that the account was now squared.

Retribution.

Several of the thieves who participated in burning Chambersburg were sent suddenly to their last account. An officer, whose papers identify him as Major Bowen, 8th Virginia cavalry, was conspicuous for his brutality and robberies. He got too far south of the firing parties to be covered by them, and in his desire to glut his thievish propensities, he was isolated. He was captured by several citizens, in the midst of his brutal work, and was dispatched promptly. When he was fired at and slightly wounded, he took refuge in the burning cellar of one of the houses, and there, with the intense heat blistering him, he begged them to spare his life; but it was in vain. Half the town was still burning, and it was taxing humanity rather too much to save a man who had added the boldest robbery to atrocious arson. He was shot dead, and now sleeps near the Falling Spring, nearly opposite the depot.

Mr. Thomas H. Doyle, of Loudon, who had served in Easton's battery, followed the retreating rebels towards Loudon, to capture stragglers. When beyond St. Thomas he caught Captain Cochran, quartermaster of 11th Virginia cavalry, and as he recognized him as one who had participated in the destruction of Chambersburg, he gave him just fifteen minutes to live. Cochran was armed with sword and pistols, but he was taken so suddenly by Mr. Doyle that he had no chance to use them. He begged piteously for his life, but Mr. Doyle was inexorable; the foe who burns and robs must die, and he so informed him peremptorily. At the very second he shot the thief dead, and found on his person $815 of greenbacks, all stolen from our citizens, and $1750 of rebel currency. His sword, belt, and pistols were brought to this place by Mr. Doyle.