Diary of a Southern Refugee During the War by Judith White McGuire

Monday, May 18th.—This morning we had the gratification of a short visit from General Lee. He called and breakfasted with us, while the other passengers in the cars breakfasted at the hotel. We were very glad to see that great and good man look so well and so cheerful. His beard is very long, and painfully gray, which makes him appear much older than he really is. One of the ladies at table, with whom he is closely connected, rallied him on allowing his beard to grow, saying, ” Cousin R., it makes you look too venerable for your years.” He was amused, and pleaded as his excuse the inconvenience of shaving in camp. “Well,” she replied, ” if I were in Cousin Mary’s place (Mrs. L’s) I would allow it to remain now, but I would take it off as soon as the war is over.” He answered, while a shade passed over his bright countenance, “When the war is over, my dear L., she may take my beard off, and my head with it, if she chooses.” This he said as the whistle summoned him to his seat in the cars, not meaning to depress us, or imagining for an instant that we would think of it again; but it proved to us that he knew that the end was not yet, and disappointed us, for after every great victory we cannot help hoping that the Federal Government may be tired of war and bloodshed, rapine and murder, and withdraw its myriads to more innocent pursuits.

Yesterday evening we were agreeably surprised by a call from W. B. C., just recovered from his dreadful wound, received at Fredericksburg last winter. He is an infantry captain of the Stonewall Brigade, and is just returning to his company. Alas! alas! his great Captain has passed away during his absence, which makes his return very sad. He thinks that General Ewell is the man of all others to put in his place, though no man can fill it. General Ewell, he says, is one of General Jackson’s most enthusiastic admirers, believing him to have been almost an inspired man. General E. relates an incident of him, when on their victorious march through the Valley last summer, which is beautifully characteristic of General J. One night, when it was evident that there must be a battle next day, he (General E.) went to General Jackson for his plans. General J. replied that he would give them to him next morning, as they had not yet been formed. General E. felt uneasy and restless, and could not sleep. About midnight he arose, and, passing through the sleeping multitudes, he reached General Jackson’s tent, and was about to raise the curtain to enter it, when his attention was arrested by the voice of prayer. General Jackson was praying fervently for guidance through the coming day. General E. remarked to a friend that he had never before heard a prayer so devout and beautiful; he then, for the first time, felt the desire to be a Christian. He retired to his tent quietly, without disturbing General J., feeling assured that all would be well. The next morning a fight came off, replete with victory. General Ewell was subsequently wounded at the second battle of Manassas, and it is said that he has since become a Christian. God grant that it may be so!

May 16th.—We were aroused this morning before daylight, by reports that the Yankees were making a raid, and were very near this place. We all dressed hastily, and the gentlemen went out to devise means to stop the trains which were to pass through. Though within five miles of us, they became aware that notice had been given of their purpose, and they immediately turned their steps to some more private place, where they might rob and plunder without molestation. The miserable poltroons, when on one of their raids, will become frightened by the sudden rising of a covey of partridges, and be diverted from their course; then they will ride bravely to a house, where they know they will only find women and children; order meals to be prepared; search the house; take the valuables; feed their horses at the barns; take off the horses from the stables; shoot the pigs, sheep, and other stock, and leave them dead in the fields; rob the poultry-yards; then, after regaling themselves on the meals which have been prepared by force, with the threats of bayonets and pistols, they ride off, having pocketed the silver spoons and forks, which may have unwittingly been left in their way.

I have been in Richmond for two days past, nursing the wounded of our little hospital. Some of them are very severely injured, yet they are the most cheerful invalids I ever saw. It is remarked in all the hospitals that the cheerfulness of the wounded in proportion to their suffering is much greater than that of the sick. Under my care, yesterday, was one poor fellow, with a ball embedded in his neck; another with an amputated leg; one with a hole in his breast, through which a bullet had passed; another with a shattered arm; and others with slighter wounds; yet all showed indomitable spirit; evinced a readiness to be amused or interested in every thing around them; asked that the morning papers might be read to them, and gloried in their late victory; and expressed an anxiety to get well, that they may have another “chance at them fellows” The Yankees are said to have landed at West Point, and are thence sending out raiding parties over the country. Colonel Davis, who led the party here on the third, has been severely wounded by a scouting party, sent out by General Wise towards Tunstall’s Station. It is said he has lost his leg. So may it be!

Wednesday, 13th.—I have just heard that my dear nephew, Will’by N., was wounded at Chancellorsville, and that his left leg has been amputated. He is at Mr. Marye’s, near Hamilton’s Crossings, receiving the warm-hearted hospitality of that house, now so widely known. His mother has reached him, and he is doing well. I pray that God may have mercy upon him, and raise him up speedily, for the Saviour’s sake.

Tuesday Evening, May 12th.—How can I record the sorrow which has befallen our country! General T. J. Jackson is no more. The good, the great, the glorious Stonewall Jackson is numbered with the dead! Humanly speaking, we cannot do without him; but the same God who raised him up, took him from us, and He who has so miraculously prospered our cause, can lead us on without him. Perhaps we have trusted too much to an arm of flesh; for he was the nation’s idol. His soldiers almost worshipped him, and it may be that God has therefore removed him. We bow in meek submission to the great Ruler of events. May his blessed example be followed by officers and men, even to the gates of heaven! He died on Sunday the 10th, at a quarter past three, P. M. His body was carried by yesterday, in a car, to Richmond. Almost every lady in Ashland visited the car, with a wreath or a cross of the most beautiful flowers, as a tribute to the illustrious dead. An immense concourse had assembled in Richmond, as the solitary car containing the body of the great soldier, accompanied by a suitable escort, slowly and solemnly approached the depot. The body lies in state to-day at the Capitol, wrapped in the Confederate flag, and literally covered with lilies of the valley and other beautiful Spring flowers. Tomorrow the sad cortege will wend its way to Lexington, where he will be buried, according to his dying request, in the “Valley of Virginia.” As a warrior, we may appropriately quote from Byron:

“His spirit wraps the dusky mountain,

His memory sparkles o’er the fountain,

The meanest rill, the mightiest river,

Rolls mingling with his fame forever.”

As a Christian, in the words of St. Paul, I thank God to be able to say, “He has fought the good fight, he has finished his course, he has kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for him a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give him at the last day.”

Sunday, May 10.—Sad, sad tidings were brought to our cottage this morning! Washington, the youngest and darling son of our dear friend, Mrs. Stuart, has fallen. The mother and sisters are overwhelmed, while our whole household is shrouded in sorrow. He was young, brave, and a Christian. He fell while nobly fighting with his company, the famous Rockbridge Battery, on Marye’s Hill. We have heard no other particulars. The brave boy had scarcely recovered from a most severe wound received last summer near Winchester. To God we commend his afflicted, though quietly submissive, mother. He alone can soothe the sorrow which He has seen fit to permit.

Saturday Night, May 9.—So much has happened since I last wrote in my diary, that I can scarcely collect my thoughts to give a plain detail of facts as they occurred.

Ten days ago, Mr. —— and myself went in to spend two days with our children who are living in Richmond. It soon became apparent that we could not return, as the Government had taken the cars for the purpose of transporting soldiers to Fredericksburg. Hooker was making immense demonstrations, and was crossing 159,000 men. They fought on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, at different points, principally at Chancellorsville, and the enemy was repulsed at all points. Hooker and his host retired to the Rappahannock, and recrossed, I think, on Wednesday. It is said that General Lee would have followed him, but for the dreadful storm of Monday night and Tuesday. General Lee in his official report speaks of it as a “signal victory.” Our army was smaller than usual, as Longstreet was still near Suffolk, and could not get up in time. It is pretty certain that Hooker—fighting Joe!!—had two to Lee’s one, and was defeated. But General Jackson was wounded severely. The great Stonewall is lost to us for a time; his left arm has been amputated, and there is a severe wound in his right hand. Oh, I pray that God may raise him up to be a continued blessing to the country. His wife has gone to him. The best surgical skill of the army, the sympathy and anxiety of the whole South, and the prayers of the country, are his. General Paxton, of the Stonewall Brigade, was killed, and many, ah, how many, valuable lives were lost! it is impossible for us yet to know, as the telegraphic wires are cut, and mail communication very uncertain. From my own family boys we have not heard, and we are willing to believe that “no news is good news.” Two more of the dear ones over whose youth we so anxiously watched have fallen—Hill Carter, of Shirley, and Benjamin White, of Charlestown, Jefferson County. Thank God, they were both Christians! My heart aches for their parents. The last was an only son, and justly the pride and joy of his household. His parents are in the enemy’s lines. O Lord, uphold that tender mother when the withering stroke is known to her! Major Channing Price and Colonel Thomas Garnett are gone! God help our country! We can’t afford to lose such men.

While our army was busily engaged last Sunday, the Yankees took occasion to send out a raiding party of their superfluous numbers. A party of several hundred came here about three o’clock in the afternoon. They knew that the cars ‘containing the wounded from the battle-field would be here. The cars arrived, and were immediately surrounded and the soldiers paroled. The ladies all the while were in the cars administering comfort to the wounded. They remained about three hours, took off every horse they could find, and every servant that they could induce to go, which was very few, and then rode off without burning the houses or offering other injury to the villagers. They belonged to Stoneman’s command. They went over this county, Goochland, Louisa, and a part of Fluvanna, without molestation. They became alarmed, however, and cut their career short. They went to Columbia for the purpose of destroying the canal, but in their haste did it very little injury. The injury to the railroads was slight, and easily repaired. To individuals they did some mischief; at W. they fed four hundred horses at my brother’s barn, took his buggy horse, and rode off. His neighbours, and others in their route, fared very much in the same way. In Richmond the excitement was terrible. The alarm-bell pealed out its startling notes; citizens were armed, and sent out to man the batteries; extemporaneous cavalry companies were formed and sent out; women were seen crying and wringing their hands on the streets; wild rumours were afloat; but it all ended in the raiders not attempting to get to the Richmond batteries, and the city in a few hours became perfectly quiet.

Wednesday Night, April 29.—On Saturday Mr. —— and myself went up to Cedar Hill, and he attempted to go to Fredericksburg; when he reached Hamilton’s Crossings he found it impossible to go on—conveyances were so scarce and the roads so terrible. He had the pleasure to dine, by invitation, at General Jackson’s head-quarters. That night he spent with his old friend, Mr. M. Garnett. Once having every luxury which could be desired, he now lives in his desolated house, surrounded by down-trodden fields, without fences, trees, or vegetation of any sort. His servants, except a few faithful ones, have deserted him; his horses and stock of all kinds have been swept away; his sons in the army; and he is cheerful and buoyed with hope, not for himself, but for the cause: good old patriot as he is, forgetting his own privations in zeal for his country. On Sunday Mr. —— heard an admirable sermon at head-quarters (General Jackson’s) from the Rev. Mr. Lacy, a Presbyterian chaplain, and returned home on Monday, having found it impossible to fulfil the object of his trip, that of preaching to the soldiers in Fredericksburg.

Sunday Night.—Very sweet services in our little church to-day. The subject of the sermon was, “Woe to them who are at ease in Zion.” Mr. found a note on the pulpit from a Georgia soldier, asking the prayers of the congregation for himself and his family at home. The extemporaneous prayer after the sermon, offered for him, was most earnestly and tearfully joined in by all.

18th.—A letter from our son J. to-day; full of pleasant feeling at finding himself again in the Army of Northern Virginia. He is just established near General Jackson’s head-quarters, as Surgeon of the First Virginia Battalion; had just breakfasted with Stonewall, and is filled with enthusiastic admiration for the great Christian soldier and patriot.

The enemy seems to have left Charleston. The Northern papers, after much circumlocution, prevarication, and boasting of a successful reconnoissance, acknowledge that they were greatly injured by their last attack on it. “All quiet on the Rappahannock,” continues to be reported. God grant that it may continue so!

Yesterday spent-in the hospital; some of the men are very ill. I go back to-morrow.