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 c