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