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From the beginning of the war Chambersburg was threatened with invasion by the Southern Army. The first invasion took place on Friday, the 15th of October, 1862. During the afternoon rumors reached town that Gen. Stuart was approaching. Only a few persons believed them. These few, as it was afterwards shown, had received reliable notice of it. The rest of our people regarded it as a false report. Many heartily laughed at the terrified few. How could they venture across the Potomac northward, said they, when we have such a strong force along the southern border of Pennsylvania?

Towards evening a few men dashed through the streets on foaming, panting horses, heralding the incredible approach of the Rebel Army. Many laughed at their story. It can't be? was their reply. An hour later, a cavalry force of fifteen hundred men, under Gen. Stuart, took possession of the old Fair Ground on a hill-top at the western end of the town, planting a row of heavy cannon on it, ready to shell and destroy Chambersburg at a moment's notice.

It was a chilly October evening. A drenching rain storm. brought on darkness before the time. A friend assured me of their arrival. It seemed utterly impossible. Only a panic story. Surely the southern leaders were too wise to send a cavalry force of fifteen hundred men thirty miles north of the Potomac, with our army in their rear. My informant challenged me to repair to the square of the town, where a squad of mounted soldiers demanded the surrender of Chambersburg.

Before the Provost Marshall's office I found them, patient and motionless, sitting on their well-trained horses; wierd figures, dripp

ing wet in the drenching rain. One held a small flag of truce in his hand-a white handkerchief tied to the end of a stick or cornstalk, I was not sure which. They rode into town and before the office with as much innocent composure as they would have visited their warmest friends. Like marble statues they sat there, awaiting the answer of the Provost Marshall to their demand of surrender. The latter official had only time to gather a small group of prominent citizens around him, for a few moments' consultation. At his office door I met Judge K., our Marshall.

"Well, Judge, what are we to do?"

"There is no remedy, we have to surrender the town," he replied. "Their guns have command of the place, and can shell it at a moment's notice."

"Surrender! No, never, till they enter Chambersburg over our dead bodies," said one of the oldest citizens, well-known to many readers of the GUARDIAN. In 1812 he had left his weeping bride, to drive the British from our shores. His eyes flashed as he called on a group of men around him: "Come, my fellowtownsmen, let us all to the end of town with such arms as we have, and repulse the invaders of our hearths and homes."

The brave veteran meant it all right. Still it is well that his call was not heeded. Great was the excitement of our Home Guards, who felt that they ought to do something, and knew not what. Had the approach of the enemy been known ten hours sooner, the community would have been excited to a state of frenzy. As it was, the agony of humiliation was sharp and short. The people succumbed to the mortifying surrender with sullen silence. Before we had time to think or say much about it, the town was surrounded with a Confederate guard, without whose permission no one could enter or leave the place. The streets swarmed with southern soldiers.

But few citizens were seen out of doors. The ladies bolted the front shutters of their homes, soon after the surrender, and retired into the inner privacy of their dwellings. Novel as were the scenes on the streets, very few ladies deigned to look at them from their front doors. While they were musing, the fire burned.

Seen from the present, the affair was not without its amusing features. The ladies, so patriotic, whose eyes would flash resentment upon the least insult offered to the Union flag, must see the dear old stars and stripes torn down. Boisterous patriots, how could they endure such an agony! All the chafing and wrathmutterings under the new rule, were wisely done within doors.

Detachments of soldiers took possession of the principal buildings of the town-the depot, warehouses, railroad shops, courthouse, and the Chambersburg Bank.

The soldiers treated the citizens with courtesy, so far as that was possible on such a mission as theirs. They hurried through the streets in search of all manner of goods. They rode closely along the curbstones, peering through the darkness, and trying to decipher the signs of the stores. "Will you please tell us where we can find a shoe store?" was heard on every side; for great was the demand for boots and shoes. The most were willing to pay for what they bought with Confederate scrip.

Squads of cavalry dashed through the town in search of horses. Every alley soon resounded with the clattering hoofs of rebel steeds. Stables were searched and emptied without ceremony. Ingenious expedients were resorted to by the owners to save their property. Some, in their excited attempts to hurry them away to a place of safety, blundered into the hands of the enemy. My kingdom for a horse," cried the unhorsed Richard. The scene was re-enacted that night in Chambersburg. In a few hours the prevailing form of salutation on the street was: "Is your horse safe?"

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"Quickly bring your horse out of the stable," said a friend. "Proctor (his colored servant, who had formerly been a slave in the south) will in a moment bring my two past the parsonage. We must hurry them off and hide them somewhere in the country. He will take yours along."

The quickest time I ever made in Chambersburg, with my unaided powers of locomotion, I made that night, from the square to the stable, a distance of about three squares. Poor Jack, as I hurried him out into the street, little knew the peril of his position. As I handed Proctor the reins, the rapidly clattering hoofs of rebel cavalry were heard two squares off, coming our way at full speed. "Hist, Proctor, they are coming. The Philistines be after you," I softly whispered to the faithful colored man. "Ride for your life, or you'll be a slave to the day of your death." If ever mortal man vigorously used his spurs to preserve his liberty, it was my colored friend. The three horses gave him a world of trouble, as it was difficult to lead them on at a fast run. "Alas, for poor Proctor and Jack!" I muttered, as his pursuers dashed past me.

Thanks to the darkness, the horse and his rider escaped. A few miles out of town, a friend hid Jack in a barn cellar. The horse-hunters searched all the stables, but did not find their way into his hiding-place.

Soon after a squad of cavalry had taken possession of the Chambersburg Bank, Gen. Stuart and his staff called on my genial friend, the gentlemanly Cashier, George R. Messersmith, Esq., whose name, by the way, was a great puzzle to the general. As

was quite natural, too. For instead of taking the name Messersmith as that of an individual, he took it to designate the banking firm of the Messrs. Smith. So during their not unpleasant interview, he persisted in calling the Cashier, Mr. Smith, taking him to be one of the members of the firm.

While a row of sullen-mounted soldiers surrounded the building, their horses crowded together on the broad pavement, a most delightful interview was held in the bank by the Cashier and his captor. After very politely introducing himself and his staff to the keeper of money, they were invited to an adjoining room. My friend, who has a nice appreciation of a good cigar, and takes great pleasure in entertaining his friends with his choice Havanas, brought out a prime article, which his visitors seemed to enjoy very much.

Instead of a surly and insulting set of fiery Southerners, he soon found the chief and his staff, the most genial and companionable men that you could wish for. The general, a man of intelligence and fine conversational powers, spoke freely and frankly of the funny and serious incidents of their southern campaigns of their privations as well as disappointments. In short, it was a free, friendly interview, where the captors and the captured chatted and laughed around the social board.

At length the conversation took a more serious turn, in substance somewhat as follows:

Gen. Stuart." Well, Mr. Smith, I believe you are the responsible officer of this bank. War, as you know, imposes some unpleasant duties. We have invaded your state, as your army has repeatedly invaded ours. We are justified in doing unto you as they have done unto us. In short, we shall be under the unpleasant necessity of taking some of the money out of your bank. Will you be kind enough to open your vau ts for us?'

Cashier." With the greatest of pleasure, General. Only I shall have to inform you that there is nothing there for you."

Gen. S.-"You certainly bave money in your institution."

Cashier." General, you would surely consider me a poor bank officer, had I not, on hearing of your approach, removed the valuable contents of our bank to a place of safety.”

Gen. S.-"Is it possible!

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Cashier. Yes, sir."

Removed all?"

Gen S.-"Well, Mr. Smith, whilst I must applaud your faithfulness ani skill as a bank officer, I regret our disappointment I need scarcely tell you that we had wished and expected to make a draw on your institution."

Notwithstanding the disappointment, they kept up a pleasant conversation till late at night, and parted as friends.

The night passed without any disturbances. Early in the morning the soldiers already returned from a foraging visit to the corn fields around the town, each having a shock of corn laid crossways before him on his horse, which he took to his camp for feed.

In a few hours quiet reigned in the streets, and the towns people strolled about unharmed. Everybody wondered what would turn up next. Would they remain, waiting for the arrival of stronger forces? Would they not perhaps take possession of this part of the State? Perhaps make this the theatre of a great battle? While thus questioning, at about 7 o'clock, A. M., columns of black smoke ascended from the depot. Occasionally a shell exploded. For a short time many thought they were shelling the town. Not a few were terror-stricken. They had set fire to the depot, railroad shops, and warehouses. The latter contained large quantities of government ammunition. Vast quantities of powder were said to be stored there. The magazine was in danger of exploding any moment. Families in that part of town were hurried away to a place of safety. Women and children wildly rushed through the streets, scarcely knowing what they were doing, all trying to get as far away from the fire as possible. All around I met frail, delicate females and terrified children, in their frenzied excitement, tottering they knew not whither. A few of the soldiers shouted: "See, see, how they skedaddle." Some sought refuge in cellars, some in houses at the opposite end of town. Some cried: "Let us to the open fields. The concussion produced by the explosion of the powder may shatter the walls of houses, and bury you under them." Some said, "Keep out of the open air, lest the explosion will throw pieces of shell and brick on you." Whither shall we flee for safety? The boom of the first explosion sent a thrill of terror through many a heart. Then followed reports of exploding shells, in quick succession, like those heard in battle. Many people kept moving from place to place, seeking shelter, now here, now there. At length the ear became accustomed to the noise, and the feeling spread that there was no immediate danger.

Meanwhile I hastened, with others, to the large school building, in a direct line, about half a square from the fire. It had been turned into a hospital. Fifty sick and wounded soldiers were quartered therein. Many were unable to walk. These were all borne away to the Town Hall. At 81, A. M., the enemy left, seemingly in great haste. Two hours later a force of Union cavalry arrived. As soon as the enemy departed, such fire engines as we had were put to work. In between burning buildings, where at times the heat and smoke were almost suffocating, we worked these engines, by hand, scarcely fifty yards from the exploding shells, whose fragments fell around us like a shower of hail. I felt proud to work aside of heroic men, who at no little peril helped to save many a home from destruction. The day before, God in mercy had sent us a rain to moisten the roofs, and soon after the firing of the buildings, He sent us a west wind, to

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