A. I received that note somewhere about six o'clock. It is dated five-thirty, P.M., July 21, about half an hour afterwards—about six o'clock, I should judge. Previous to this, I would state that three gentlemen came here from the city—came to my quarters—and informed me in substance the same thing, before this was received—perhaps an hour. Was received somewhere about that time. That was the first notice I had of it.

Q. Who were those gentlemen?

A. Their names I don't know. They were strangers to me, and they introduced themselves. I have forgotten their names.

Q. Were they citizens of Pittsburgh?

A. Yes, sir; and when they came they were very much afraid that the mob would see their vehicle out in front of the gate, and they immediately left and went away on that account, saying they were afraid their vehicle would be recognized, and they were afraid of the mob. This word I mention was brought to me by Doctor Speers, of Pittsburgh, in a buggy, and he also was very much afraid of the mob. Cautioned me saying anything about it; that they would spot me, or something to that purpose. I also received this one. Here is a copy of that one written in the handwriting of General Latta. This was handed through the picket fence, which is by my quarters, to a young lady visiting my house at that time, with a request to give it to me, which she did. She refused to take it, and told him to take it to the guard-house, and he expressed a fear about taking it to the guard-house, and insisted on her taking it. In addition, I received this one. It is headed,

"O.D. 7, 21—7th month 21st day.

"Commandant Arsenal: Mob has started to the arsenal for the purpose of taking arms. Serious trouble at Twenty-eighth street between them and military.

(Signed)

"J. M. or T. M. King,
Superintendent."

I believe he is superintendent of the Allegheny Valley railroad. Having received information from those gentlemen previous to those notes, I immediately took steps to receive the mob if they should come out there. Lieutenant Lyon was staying over there. He came to the office, and I told him to tell my sergeant to go out quietly and couple the six pounder guns, have one of them brought down to the inside of the gate, as you come in. I had but one box of ammunition. All my men had Springfield rifles, and I had a part of a box of ammunition for them—I had plenty of ammunition, but none of that kind. My sergeant got some for my men, and I gave him some general instructions to guard and close the gates, and lock them, and let no one in without my knowledge. These preparations were carried on, and we got in readiness, and matters remained so until night came on, and there was no signs of anybody coming, and at night I thought I would go out in the street and see what was going on. Lieutenant Lyon, I believe, went with me. We struck down street and consulted with various people. Very few people know me here. I went out in the street and talked with a few of them. In a field below here—about two squares—is a new livery stable, and over that building there was some sort of a meeting going on, and we went to the door. They had sentries at the door. There was quite a concourse of citizens around. We could not get in, and we waited there until they came out. They were cheering inside, and somebody making speeches. Presently they came out, about twenty armed with some muskets they had gotten out of an armory below here somewhere—half-grown boys they were, and a few men—and filed off down street cheered by the populace surrounding them, and one man along side of me fired a musket in the air, and that is all that I saw. I didn't see any disposition of any of them to come here at all, and I returned, telling Lieutenant Lyon I had no doubt they would come out here, but I did not anticipate any trouble with them at all, and instructed the men to keep in their quarters with their clothing on—to lie down with their clothing on, ready at a moment's call. Between ten and eleven o'clock I heard drums beating down street, and I concluded the rioters were coming. I went out, and the men were turned out and placed up here behind that building, where they could not be seen, and by that time the mob had got at the gate. There was nobody there except a sentry and that six pounder gun there. I went out in citizen's dress. They were yelling and screaming about the gate. As I approached, one of them said, "Here comes the commanding officer, we will talk to him." I walked up to the gate, too—the gate is armed with open pickets—they stopped their noise, and I said, "Boys, what is the matter?" They said, "A party of Philadelphia troops have fired into a crowd down here and killed a lot of women and children, and we come to get arms; we want to fight them." I says, "I cannot give you any arms." I said, "I cannot help you, it is impossible for me to help you." He said women and children had been shot down, and I said, "It was a sad thing, but it is impossible for me to help you." "We don't want you, we want that gun." I ignored that request, and kept talking quiet to them. They seemed to be peaceable enough, except one man, and I imagined he was slightly intoxicated. "I know there are only twenty men in the place, and if twenty-five will join me we scale the walls." He abused them for not following. Presently one of them said, "He talks well, come on." Finally the better disposed of them called the others off, and they went up the street a short distance and returned again. This belligerent fellow staid near the gate and called for volunteers. There was nobody there except myself and the sentry. I kept the men out of sight, for I didn't wish to flourish a red handkerchief in the face of the bull. I was determined to exhaust all peaceable means. They came back again, and about the time they got opposite the gate, a cry of fire was raised, and an alarm struck on the bell, and they all raised the cry of fire, and they went off down the street. This man who was calling for volunteers, says he, "The guns are spiked, we will all go;" and they all went off again. That is my knowledge of the mob.