unks were rifled after being dragged by the owners from the ruins;
promises of protection were made to be instantly broken. Everything was
done to add to the terror and confusion of the panic-stricken women and
children. Soon the hunger of the little ones added new horror to the
scene. Families were separated, and distracted fathers and mothers could
be seen everywhere, seeking amid the confusion for those that were
missing. And yet no selfishness was apparent; every one was willing to aid
and sympathize with his neighbor. No one complained, no one lost hope. A
rebel officer stopped me, saying: 'Sir, cannot a little money be raised to
satisfy that brute, McCausland; a very little money would save this end of
the town.' My answer was: 'If ten cents would do it, it would not be
forthcoming.' One rebel came running towards me, wringing his hands,
saying, 'Horrible, horrible! I did not think it could be so bad as this!'
Another told me that they had received orders, before they entered the
town, _to burn every house in it_; and yet another informed me that their
object was to effect an entrance during the night, and then burn it. In
some cases the women attempted to extinguish the fire, and were prevented
by threats and personal violence. Some were thrust from their houses,
others were struck, and in some instances pistols were drawn upon them.
One lady had a bucket of water, which she had brought to extinguish the
fire, thrown in her face. In almost every case the sick and the infirm
were _hindered_ from leaving their homes. There appeared to be a desire to
have some burned, if possible, _by accident_! One rebel, who helped a lady
to save some of her clothing, was seen led out of the town handcuffed. An
officer who suffered himself to be persuaded to save some property, said,
as he left the house he refused to fire, 'Madam, you have saved your
house, but have cost me my commission, and perhaps my life.' A negro saved
his life by dressing himself in woman's clothes, and carrying on his head
a feather bed, thereby hiding his face and hands. Little children cried to
'go home'--the home that was destroyed; old men wept over the town in
which they had lived for three-quarters of a century; citizens looked on
with dismay upon the destruction of their life-long labor and industry.
Many fled to the cemetery for refuge, and there, in the midst of death,
was one little life added to the wretched throng. The words of our
Saviour, with r