"Threats being made by the mob to destroy a mill belonging to Brother Haun, it was considered best to have a few men continually at the mill to protect it. One day Brother Evans went and had an interview with a Mr. Comstock, said to be the head man of the mob. All things were amicably adjusted. Brother Evans then went to inform the brethren (my husband being among them) that all was well. This was about the middle of the afternoon, when Brother Evans returned from Mr. Comstock's. On a sudden, without any warning whatever, sixty or seventy men, with blackened faces, came riding their horses at full speed. The brethren ran, for protection, into an old blacksmith shop, they being without arms. The mob rode up to the shop, and without any explanation or apparent cause, began a wholesale butchery, by firing round after round through the cracks between the logs of the shop. I was at home with my family of five little children, and could hear the firing. In a moment I knew the mob was upon us. Soon a runner came, telling the women and children to hasten into the timber and secrete themselves, which we did, without taking anything to keep us warm; and had we been fleeing from the scalping knife of the Indian we would not have made greater haste. And as we ran from house to house, gathering as we went, we finally numbered about forty or fifty women and children. We ran about three miles into the woods, and there huddled together, spreading what few blankets or shawls we chanced to have on the ground for the children; and here we remained until two o'clock the next morning, before we heard anything of the result of the firing at the mill. Who can imagine our feelings during this dreadful suspense? And when the news did come, oh! what terrible news! Fathers, brothers and sons, inhumanly butchered! We now took up the line of march for home. Alas! what a home! Who would we find there? And now, with our minds full of the most fearful forebodings, we retraced those three long, dreary miles. As we were returning I saw a brother, Myers, who had been shot through his body. In that dreadful state he crawled on his hands and knees, about two miles, to his home. "After I arrived at my house with my children, I hastily made a fire to warm them, and then started for the mill, about one mile distant. My children would not remain at home, saying, 'If father and mother are going to be killed, we want to be with them.' It was about seven o'clock in the morning when we arrived at the mill. In the first house I came to there were three dead men. One, a Brother McBride, I was told was a survivor of the Revolution. He was a terrible sight to behold, having been cut and chopped, and horribly mangled, with a corn-cutter.