Chapter 5

MY DEAR FRIEND:

After my last letter was beyond my control, I became acquainted with some additional incidents which may interest you.

A lady, well known to me, the mother of a large family of children, was ordered to leave the house in five minutes, as the house must be burned. She collected them all around her to obey the cruel summons. Preparations were at once made to fire the building in the rooms above and below, and as the family group walked out of the large and beautiful mansion, the children burst into loud weeping. "I am ashamed of you," said the tenderly loving, yet heroic woman, "to let these men see you cry," and every child straightened up, brushed away the falling tears, and bravely marched out of the doomed home.

An elderly woman, of true Spartan grit, gave one of the house-burners such a sound drubbing with a heavy broom, that the invader retreated, to leave the work of destruction to be performed by another party, after the woman had left to escape the approaching flames of the adjoining buildings.

The wife of a clergyman succeeded in preventing one of the enemy from firing her house, by reminding him that she had fed him during Stuart's raid in 1862, and that she also ministered to him when he was in the hospital in this place in the summer of 1863. The man recognized her, and frankly declared that he could not be so base as to destroy her house, now that he remembered her kind offices. He had been wounded and made a prisoner at the battle of Gettysburg, was brought to the hospital here, and afterwards exchanged.

Mr. Jacob Hoke, one of our most worthy and enterprising merchants, has furnished the following statement of facts and incidents for publication in the Religious Telescope, of Dayton, Ohio. As his residence and store were located in the centre of the town, he had an opportunity of witnessing the scenes of the day to greater advantage than most others. I may as well inclose the principal part of his article, as it explains more fully several general statements before given, whilst, at the same time, it brings out some points not alluded to before:

MR. EDITOR: Not having seen in any published report, a satisfactory account of the late rebel raid on Chambersburg, and being a resident here, and an eye-witness, I will hastily sketch what came under my own observation, and what I have from reliable persons. In Thursday's Philadelphia Inquirer, the correspondent at Frederick stated "that our troops were in such numbers, and so situated, that for the first time in the history of the war, glorious news might be expected from the Shenandoah Valley." Very high military authority, but a few days prior to the raid, assured us "that every ford of the Potomac was strictly watched; that it was impossible for the enemy to cross; that if they only would cross it would be the best thing that could happen, as they could never get back again." In this way our community was lulled into comparative security, until on Friday noon, July 29th, it was announced that the rebels had crossed in considerable force at Williamsport, and also at Cherry Run. No one could depict the scene of excitement which then occurred. Merchants and others commenced packing, shipping, and otherwise disposing of their valuables.

At eight o'clock in the evening General Hunter's large wagon train commenced passing through our town toward Harrisburg, and continued passing during the greater part of the night. At least fifteen hundred cavalry and two hundred infantry passed through with that train as guards and as stragglers. That these men were not stopped here by General Couch, who did not leave town until three o'clock in the morning, is explained by the assertion that they were under orders from General Hunter to guard his train. That train was entirely safe after it had passed through Chambersburg, and that body of men, judiciously posted, could, with the artillery in town, and the citizens, have held the enemy in check until Averill could arrive, who was then ten miles distant, and threatened in his front by a force of rebels who, it is now evident, were only making a demonstration to hold him until the other and heavier column under McCausland and Gilmore, could effect their object in Chambersburg.

I sat at my window on the corner of the Diamond and saw them enter. Skirmishers, dismounted, led the advance, followed by cavalry. They came in simultaneously in all the streets and alleys, and called to each other as a signal, when they reached the centre of the Diamond. In five minutes after, a force of about five hundred cavalry filed around the Public Square, and immediately commenced the work of plunder. The first building broken open was Mr. Paxton's shoe and hat store; then the liquor stores adjoining my residence. I met them at my store door and unlocked it, when about twenty entered and commenced a thorough search. Finding it empty, they inquired where I had my goods, to which I replied, I had shipped them to Philadelphia. Returning from the room, I locked the door, and sat down by it, and entered into conversation with a gentlemanly-looking man, who informed me he was the Chaplain to McCausland's command. He gave his name as Johnson, born in Fayette County, Pennsylvania, and said he was a Methodist preacher. During our conversation an officer dismounted at my door, tied his horse, and listened to our conversation, where he remained until the circumstance occurred to which I shall presently refer. The Chaplain said to me, "Do you reside in this house?" I replied affirmatively. He then said they were rolling several barrels of combustible matter into the Court House, near my residence; that they were going to burn it, and I had better try to save something from our house. Leaving these two men at the door, I ran up stairs and carried a load of precious articles from the parlor table, consisting of a valuable family Bible, books, photograph album, &c., to a neighbor's house, where I presumed they would be safe. They were all burned there, however. Next, I carried some bed-clothing to a different part of the town, and they were saved. Returning to the house, I encountered a rebel officer in one of the rooms. Said he: "Do you belong to this house?" On my replying in the affirmative, he said: "My friend, for God's sake, tell me what you value most, and I will take it to a place of safety. They are going to burn every house in the town." I told him if that was the case, it was no use to remove anything, as they might as well burn here as elsewhere.

By this time my wife and two other occupants of the house came down stairs each with a carpet-bag packed with clothing. The officer followed us to the door and entreated one of the women to mount his horse and ride him off, as he declared he did not want him any more in the rebel service. Another man unbuckled his sword and put it in our house, in disgust at the scene before him. It was afterwards found among the ruins. At the door I found the officer previously referred to, weeping bitterly. The flames were bursting from buildings all around us. "See," said he, "this is awful work. O God! O, my God, has it come to this, that we have to be made a band of thieves and robbers by a man like McCausland!" I have seen many men weep, but never did I see a strong, robust man hide from his sight, with his handkerchief, the appalling scene, and cry at the top of his voice, "O God! O mighty God!--See, see!"

Imagine the feelings of my family, when an hour before this, without intending to select any particular passage of God's Word, I read the 138th Psalm, in which the following words occur: "Though I walk in the midst of trouble, Thou wilt revive me: Thou shalt stretch forth Thy hand against the wrath of mine enemies, and Thy right hand shall save me." We knelt in prayer and surrounded the breakfast-table under the conviction that it was for the last time in that dear home. Then came the hasty snatching of precious relics of dear departed ones, passing hurriedly from room to room, leaving clothing, beds, furniture, library, pictures--all to the devouring flames. In our parlor hung the photographs of several of our bishops, with many others. These were either carried away by the rebels or burned. At the door we encountered the incident previously narrated. Leaving the weeping officer, we pressed through flame and smoke, amidst burning buildings, to the suburbs of the town, where we sat down and watched four hundred buildings in flames, two hundred and seventy-four of which were dwelling-houses, the affrighted occupants running wildly through the streets, carrying clothing and other articles, while screams of anguish from lost children in pursuit of parents, the feeble efforts of the old and infirm to carry with them some endeared article from their blazing homes, the roaring and crackling flames, falling walls and blinding smoke, all united to form a picture of horror, which no pen could describe, no painter portray. For three hours the fire raged. At about 11 o'clock, the rebels left town, as Averill's scouts captured five rebels within one mile of the town. In three hours after their exit, Averill filed through the streets.

Incidents.

In our flight through the streets, the rebel officer alluded to followed us half a square, entreating one of the women to mount and ride off his horse, declaring that he was done with the rebel service. No sooner did he turn away, than another rode up and demanded our carpet-bags; we ran on, and he turned back without them. Brother Winton, while fleeing with his wife and little children, was stopped by a cavalryman and compelled to deliver his shoes and hat. Hundreds of robberies occurred of hats, shoes, watches, money, &c. An old and very estimable lady, who had not walked for three years, was told to run, as her house was on fire. She replied that she had not walked for three years. With horrid curses, the wretch poured powder under her chair, declaring that he would teach her to walk; and while in the act of applying fire to his train, some neighbors ran in and carried her away.

The burning mass appeared to converge toward the Diamond, forming fearful whirlwinds, which at times moved eastwardly along the line of Market street. At one time an immense whirlwind passed over where a large lot of bedding and wearing apparel had been collected. Large feather beds were lifted from the ground. Shirts and lighter articles were conveyed with fearful velocity high in the air, alighting at a great distance from where they lay. It was grand and fearful, adding to the horror of the scene. In many cases soldiers set fire to houses, and to the tears and entreaties of women and children they said their "orders were to burn. We will fire; you can do as you please after we go away." An officer rode up to our parsonage, and thus addressed Mrs. Dickson: "Madam, save what you can; in fifteen minutes we will return and fire your house." They did not return. Our church and parsonage were saved. The printing establishment of the German Reformed Church was completely destroyed, with all the valuable presses, books, the bindery, &c. Dr. Fisher estimates the loss to the Church at over forty thousand dollars. Those of our readers who know the town will understand the extent of this destruction from the following:

Beginning at the Presbyterian lecture-room on the north, the fire swept every building on the west side of Main street, except four, up to Washington street, four squares; from King street on the north, every building on the east side of Main street up to Washington, three squares; from the Franklin Railroad to nearly the top of New England Hill, five squares, on both sides of the street; also eight or ten dwellings over the top of New England Hill; from the Market-house down Queen street, both sides, to the edge-tool factory, and several buildings on the street running parallel with the creek, up to Market street, with many buildings on Second street from Market, up near the Methodist Church. The Methodist, German Reformed, and Lutheran churches saved the parts of the town in which they were situated from being involved in the general conflagration. The Associate Reformed and Bethel churches, the latter belonging to "The Church of God," were burned. The Associate Reformed was used as headquarters for drafted men; hence its destruction. The "Bethel"--so marked on a stone in the front--was supposed by the fiends to be a negro church. In most cases fire was kindled in beds or bureaus by matches, and in balls of cotton saturated in alcohol or kerosene.

I saw men and officers drinking liquor as it was carried from the hotels, the doors of which they broke open. Many were drunk. Women were insulted; cruel taunts and threats were repeatedly made.

* * * * *

I have thus hastily sketched the foregoing _facts, for such they are_. The reader will remember they are written by one who lost heavily by the fire; is now surrounded by the extended ruins; is aware of the sufferings and heart-breakings of over two thousand men, women, and children, many of whom have been reduced from affluence to poverty, are now dependent for the bread they eat, the clothes they wear, and the houses that shelter them, upon others more favored.

J. HOKE.

CHAMBERSBURG, August 10, 1864.

I also append to the foregoing the following graphic letter in the Pittsburgh Evening Chronicle, afterwards copied in the Chambersburg Franklin Repository. It is from the pen of the Rev. S. J. Niccolls, the esteemed pastor of the Presbyterian congregation in this place.

"So much misapprehension exists in many quarters concerning the facts connected with the burning of Chambersburg, that it has become a matter of justice to a wronged and suffering community to state them fully to the public. Many things have been written concerning this calamity, true in themselves, but disconnected from their attending circumstances, and so the most injurious impressions have been made on the minds of those who live remote from the border. A connected and truthful narrative of this sad event, it is hoped, will correct these.

"The history of the past month commences with the advance of Early up the Shenandoah, and the invasion of Maryland. The enemy, about fifteen hundred strong, soon occupied Hagerstown, and it was believed that they intended a raid on Chambersburg. At this time there were three hundred soldiers in the place, under command of General Couch, the whole number available in his department. The citizens rallied around these, and determined to defend the town. Barricades were thrown across the streets, cannon planted, houses occupied by sharpshooters, and every preparation made for defence. Soon, however, the enemy fell back across the Potomac, and the invasion was declared to be ended. The small body of troops under General Couch were withdrawn to protect the national Capital, and we were left defenceless. We were assured, however, that the fords of the Potomac were well guarded, and a large army lay between us and the rebels. The very papers in New York which now condemn us for our apathy were daily assuring us that it was "all quiet on the Potomac," and that the enemy had fallen back. We were soon startled from our dream of security by the announcement that General Crooks had been defeated, and the rebels were again advancing to invade Pennsylvania.

"We did not then take arms, because it was plain to every one that if the forces of Crooks and Averill could not resist their advance, it would be folly in a few citizens to attempt it. We had seen an invasion once before, and knew what it meant. Anticipating a repetition of the scenes of last year, the people of the county began to remove their stock and valuables. In the midst of conflicting rumors nothing could be learned of the movements of the enemy until Friday, July 29th. In the afternoon of that day it was known that they had crossed the Potomac, and were advancing rapidly on Chambersburg. We also learned from Mercersburg that the invading force was three thousand strong, or as it afterwards appeared, by actual count, thirty-one hundred, with six pieces of artillery. To meet this force there were in the town one hundred soldiers, with two pieces of artillery, and the citizens capable of bearing arms. The number of the latter would not reach three hundred, a large portion of the population being already in the army, and quite a number absent, attending to the removal of their horses and valuables. The citizens who remained were willing to defend the place, had it been deemed practicable by General Couch; but with this small and inadequate force at his disposal, it seemed like courting destruction for the town to attempt its defence. A show of resistance, which none could hope would be successful, would only give them a pretext for burning. No word could be obtained from General Averill, who was then near Greencastle, though the most earnest efforts were made by General Couch to obtain his assistance.

"At four o'clock A. M. on Saturday the military authorities left, and soon after the combined forces of McCausland and Bradley Johnson were placed in line of battle upon the range of hills commanding the town. The Eighth Virginia regiment, numbering about five hundred men, was thrown forward into the streets. These were detailed to burn the place....

"The scene that speedily followed is indescribable in its horrors. The soldiers went from house to house, bursting open the doors with planks and axes, and entering, split up the furniture to kindle the fire, or else scattered combustible materials in the closets and along the stairways, and then applied the torch. In a little over half an hour the whole town was fired, so complete were their arrangements to accomplish their hellish designs. No time was given the inhabitants to save anything. The first warning of danger most of them had was the kindling of the fire in their houses, and even the few articles that some caught up in their flight were seized by the soldiers and flung back into the flames. Many such instances have come to the writer's knowledge, that in their dark malignity almost surpass belief. The aged, the sick, the dying, and the dead were carried out from their burning homes; mothers with babes in their arms, and surrounded by their frightened little ones, fled through the streets, jeered and taunted by the brutal soldiery. Indeed their escape seemed almost a miracle, as the streets were in a blaze from one end to the other, and they were compelled to flee through a long road of fire. Had not the day been perfectly calm, many must have perished in the flames.

"The conflagration in its height was a scene of surpassing grandeur and terror. A tall black column of smoke rose up to the very skies; around it were wrapped long streamers of flames, writhing and twisting themselves into a thousand fantastic shapes, while through it, as though they were prayers carried heavenward by the incense of some great altar sacrifice, there went up on the smoky, flame-riven clouds the cries and shrieks of the women and children. But the moment of greatest alarm was not reached until some of the more humane of the rebel officers warned the women to flee, if they wished to escape violence to their persons. We cannot, in this letter, describe the scenes of the sad flight which followed.

"The ferocity of the rebel soldiers during this affair seems almost incredible. With all their fierce passions unrestrained, they seemed to revel in the work of destruction. An aged elder of the Presbyterian church was taken from his house and robbed; the building was fired while his wife, aged and infirm, was still in it. Upon his return, it was with the utmost difficulty she was saved. Escape by the street was impossible, and they were compelled to flee to a little garden in the rear of the house, where they sat for hours, surrounded by fire. The rebel Gilmore forbade a lady to remove her trunks from her house, and upon her telling him to his face what she thought of his conduct, he drew his pistol and declared "he would blow out her brains if she did not take that back." Many such instances, and worse, might be recorded. There were, indeed, some among them who acted humanely, refusing to do the work assigned them, but they were exceptions.

"As soon as the town was thoroughly fired at all points, the rebels fell back. On their way out they burned the residence of the County Superintendent of Public Schools, because, as they told his family, 'he had taught negroes.' Two hours after their departure, General Averill entered the town, and we were once more inside the Union lines.

"Such is the story of the burning of Chambersburg. These outlines, however, form a poor picture of the reality. The blackened ruins of this once beautiful town must first be seen before the calamity can be understood, and not then, for it is only by looking at it in detail, by understanding the peculiar sadness there is in each separate loss, and seeing the strange diversity of sorrow there is in this common woe, that one can realize the full extent of the ruin. Eleven squares of blackened ruins and over three millions of dollars in property consumed is the outward estimate of the loss. But who can write the history of two thousand people suddenly made homeless, dashed from affluence to poverty, torn violently from the sacred associations of the past, and driven forth houseless wanderers among strangers?

"The question is often asked, 'Who is responsible for this calamity?' Many coldly and unhesitatingly lay it upon the citizens themselves; but surely it is not necessary to argue that a few hundred citizens could not have resisted successfully three thousand veteran soldiers with six pieces of artillery. Many, too, have blamed General Couch, and false representations have gone forth that the citizens were greatly incensed against him. The writer of this letter has had peculiar opportunities of knowing the true state of the case, and would ask attention to the following facts. When General Couch took command of this department one year ago, he urged upon the citizens the necessity of forming organizations for home defence. His appeal was readily responded to, and all the citizens in the borough capable of bearing arms enrolled themselves in some organization. General Couch then made application to the War Department, asking that we might be uniformed and enrolled in the general service, so that, if we were ever overpowered, we would be treated as prisoners of war and not as guerrillas. This request was denied. He then proceeded to organize a cavalry force, from what was known as the 'six months' men,' for the defence of the border. Many of our citizens enlisted in this force. It was kept on the border until their term of service expired, when they re-enlisted for three years. But their new organization was scarcely completed, before they were taken from this department and sent to the Army of the Potomac. General Couch then proceeded to organize the 'Provost regiment, for special service in his department.' This was filled up to 1200 men, and then, as with the rest, taken from him by order of the Secretary of War. These gone, scarce a corporal's guard was left under his command.

"Two weeks before the advance of Early up the valley, General Couch renewed the request of last year, asking that the citizens might be armed and enrolled; stating, also, that they were ready to attempt their own defence. This was again denied. Then followed the request made by Governor Curtin, and endorsed by General Couch, which is already published in the Governor's Message. At the time of the invasion of Maryland the whole of the available force in the Department of the Susquehanna did not exceed three hundred men; and during the raid on Chambersburg, General Couch had but one hundred and thirty-five men under his command. Nor is he to blame for the smallness of this number. He had during this month of alarm organized six regiments of one hundred days' men; but these, as soon as equipped, were ordered to Washington by the Secretary of War. Such are the facts in the case. We make no comments on the propriety of leaving the border thus defenceless. Its security is perhaps a small matter compared with the strengthening of our armies elsewhere. We only say, General Couch is not to blame. He did everything a brave, earnest and faithful officer could do to avert this calamity.

"Many also are under the impression that this place was disloyal, and consequently they have no sympathy with us in our affliction. Nothing does greater injustice to our suffering community than this. No town of its size in Pennsylvania has fewer "sympathizers" with the rebellion than Chambersburg. Its quotas have always been filled by volunteers, and many of its best citizens have fallen on the field of battle. Such was and such is the spirit of the inhabitants. The affliction into which they have fallen is so great that, were it the result of their own neglect, common charity should teach others to speak of them kindly. But they do not wish to be excused; they only ask to be judged by the facts in the case. The writer has stated such facts as he knows to be true, and subscribes his name to them.

S. J. NICCOLLS."