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."
LETTER VI.
MY DEAR FRIEND:
A gentleman has just handed me the "Lutheran and Missionary" of
Philadelphia, of August 11, in which I find the following excellent
article, which, with a few omissions, is here subjoined. It is from the
pen of our worthy townsman, Mr. John K. Shryock, who, as well as his
brother, Samuel S. Shryock, have for years carried on a large business in
the "Mansion House" as booksellers, and were among the many heavy
sufferers by the fire. After alluding to the circumstances attending the
advent of the insurgents, he says:
"I was in my house with my wife and two little children, and also a lady
whose husband was taken to Richmond last summer, her little boy, and
sister. The earliest warning we received was from the stifling smoke that
poured through the house, and from some one knocking at the door and
crying: 'If there is any one in this house, for God's sake leave, for it
is all on fire.' I gathered my family together, and left with nothing but
the clothes I had upon my person, two of the ladies not having time even
to get their bonnets. Having gotten them out of the house, I ascended the
stairs to see if any had been left behind in the haste. After having
examined all the rooms, I met two of the infuriated wretches rushing up
the stairs as I hurried down. At this time the house was filled with
blinding smoke. I locked the front door, hoping that the unwelcome
visitors would not be able to find their way out.