[Footnote: Sunday, the day before, the Confederate President, Davis, was at church, when a note was handed him by a messenger. It was from Leo, informing him that the Confederate army was about to leave Richmond. His pallid face and unsteady footsteps, as he passed out, betrayed the news. Pollard says: "Men, women, and children rushed from the churches, passing from lip to lip news of the impending fall of Richmond. . . . It was late in the afternoon when the signs of evacuation became apparent to the incredulous. Suddenly, as if by magic, the streets became filled with men, walking as though for a wager, and behind them excited negroes with trunks, bundles, and luggage of every description. All over the city, it was the same--wagons, trunks, bandboxes, and their owners, a mass of hurrying fugitives filling the streets. Night came, and with it confusion worse confounded. There was no sleep for human eyes in Richmond that night. About the hour of midnight, hundreds of barrels of liquor were rolled into the street, and the heads knocked in, by order of the City Council, to prevent a worse disorder. As the work progressed, some straggling soldiers managed to get hold of a quantity of the liquor. From that moment law and order ceased to exist." By order of General Ewell, the four principal tobacco warehouses, in different parts of the city, were fired, and soon the flames became unmanageable. "Morning broke upon a scene such as those who witnessed it can never forget. The roar of an immense conflagration sounded in their ears; tongues of flame leaped from street to street; and in this baleful glare were to be seen, as of demons, the figures of busy plunderers, moving, pushing, rioting through the black smoke, bearing away every conceivable sort of plunder."]