Richmond, October 15th.—Yesterday morning my sister M., J. W., and myself, drove up from W. to the depot, seven miles, in a wagon, with four mules. It was a charming morning, and we had a delightful ride; took the accommodation cars at twelve and arrived here at two. We drove to the Exchange, and were delighted to find there our dear J. McI. And her little Bessie, on her way to W. to spend the winter. Poor thing, her lot is a sad one! She was excited by seeing us, and was more cheerful than I expected to see her; though she spoke constantly of her husband, and dwelt on her last days with him. She was in Memphis; her little Jemmie was excessively ill; she telegraphed for her husband in Arkansas. He came at once, and determined that it would be better to take the little boy to the house of his aunt in Louisiana, that J. might be with her sister. They took the boat, and after a few hours arrived at Mr. K’s house. The child grew gradually worse, and was dying, when a telegram came to General McIntosh from General Price, “Come at once—a battle is imminent.” He did not hesitate; the next steamer bore him from his dying child and sorrowing wife to the field of battle, Pea Ridge. He wrote to her, immediately on his arrival at camp, the most beautifully resigned letter, full of sorrow for her and for his child, but expressing the most noble, Christian sentiments. Oh, how she treasures it! The lovely boy died the day after his father left him! The mother said, “For a week H. and myself did nothing but decorate my little grave, and I took a melancholy pleasure in it; but darker days came, and I could not go even to that spot.” She dreamed, a few nights after little Jemmie’s death, of being at Fort Smith, her home before the war; standing on the balcony of her husband’s quarters, her attention was arrested by a procession—an officer’s funeral. As it passed under the balcony she called to a passer-by : “Whose funeral is that ?” “General McIntosh’s, madam.” She was at once aroused, and ran to her sister’s room in agony. She did what she could to comfort her, but the dream haunted her imagination. A few days afterwards she saw a servant ride into the yard, with a note for Mrs. K. Though no circumstance was more common, she at once exclaimed, “It is about my husband.” She did not know that the battle had taken place; but it was the fatal telegram. The soldiers carried his body to Fort Smith, and buried it there. To-morrow she returns, with her aunt, to W. She wishes to get to her mother’s home in Kentucky, but it is impossible for her to run the blockade with her baby, and there is no other way open to her.
Diary of a Southern Refugee During the War by Judith White McGuire
10th.—Bad news! The papers bring an account of the defeat of our army at Corinth. It was commanded by General Van Dorn—the Federals by Rosecranz. They fought Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. The fight said to have been very bloody—great loss on both sides. The first two days we had the advantage, but on Sunday the Yankees “brought up reinforcements,” and our men had to retire to Ripley. The Northern papers do not brag quite so much as usual; they say their loss was very great, particularly in officers; from which, I hope it was not quite so bad with us as our first accounts represent. This bringing up of reinforcements, which the Yankees do in such numbers, is ruinous to us. Ah! if we could only fight them on an equal footing, we could expunge them from the face of the earth: but we have to put forth every energy to get rid of them, while they come like the frogs, the flies, the locusts, and the rest of the vermin which infested the land of Egypt, to destroy our peace.
9th.—A very pleasant day at S. H. The ladies all busily knitting for our soldiers—oh, that we could make them comfortable for the winter!
8th.—Mr. N. joined us this morning,, and we all gathered here for the day. It seemed so much like old times, that C. broke a war rule, and gave us pound-cake for supper.
W., Hanover County, October 6th.—We left the University on the 4th, and finding J. B. N. on the cars, on ” sick-leave,” I determined to stop with him here to spend a few days with my sisters, while Mr. —— went on to Richmond and Ashland. I do nothing but listen—for my life during the last three months has been quiet, compared with that of others. J. gives most interesting accounts of all he has seen, from the time he came up the Peninsula with the army in May, until he was broken down, and had to leave it, in Maryland, after the battle of Sharpsburg. As a surgeon, his personal danger has not been so great as that of others, but he has passed through scenes the most trying and the most glorious. My sisters and M. give graphic descriptions of troubles while in the enemy’s lines, but, with the exception of loss of property, our whole family has passed through the summer unscathed. Many friends have fallen, and one noble young relative, E. B., of Richmond County; and I often ask myself, in deep humility of soul, why we have been thus blessed, for since our dear W. P. and General McIntosh fell, the one in December, the other in March, we have been singularly blessed. Can this last, when we have so many exposed to danger? O, God, spare our sons! Our friend, Dr. T., of this neighbourhood, lost two sons at Sharpsburg! Poor old gentleman! it is so sad to see his deeply-furrowed, resigned face.
McClellan’s troops were very well-behaved while in .this neighbourhood; they took nothing but what they considered contraband, such as grain, horses, cattle, sheep, etc., and induced the servants to go off. Many have gone—it is only wonderful that more did not go, considering the inducements that were offered. No houses were burned, and not much fencing. The ladies’ rooms were not entered except when a house was searched, which always occurred to unoccupied houses; but I do not think that much was stolen from them. Of course, silver, jewelry, watches, etc., were not put in their way. Our man Nat, and some others who went off, have returned—the reason they assign is, that the Yankees made them work too hard! It is so hard to find both families without carriage horses, and with only some mules which happened to be in Richmond when the place was surrounded. A wagon, drawn by mules, was sent to the depot for us. So many of us are now together that we feel more like quiet enjoyment than we have done for months.
3d.—University Of Virginia.—Arrived here yesterday, and met with a glowing reception from the friends of my youth, Professor and Mrs. Maupin. My sister, Mrs. C, and daughters, staying next door, at Professor Minor’s. In less than five minutes we were all together—the first time for many anxious months. They are refugees, and can only hear from home when our army finds it convenient to clear “The Valley” of invaders. One of her sons, dear R., was ordered last, winter, by General Jackson, to command a body of soldiers, whom he sent to break the dam in the Potomac, which at that point supplied the Ohio and Chesapeake Canal with water—(it also worked his mother’s mill)—and the breaking of which, if effectually done, would prevent the Yankees from using the canal for transportation. This dangerous project was undertaken most cheerfully, and was most thoroughly effected. It was necessarily done in the night, to elude the vigilance of the Yankees on the Maryland shore. In the dead hour of the winter’s night did some of the first gentlemen’s sons in the South, who happened to belong to that portion of the army, work up to their waists in water, silently, quietly, until the work was finished; nor were they discovered until day dawned, and revealed them retiring; then shot and shell began to fall among them furiously. One of the brave band fell! Notwithstanding their danger, his companions could not leave him, but lifted him tenderly, and carried him to a place of safety, where he might at least have Christian burial by sympathizing friends. The large old mill, which had for many years sent its hundreds and thousands of barrels of flour to the Baltimore and Georgetown markets, still stood, though its wheels were hushed by the daring act of the night before. It had been used of late by the Yankees for their own purposes. The enemy seemed to have forgotten to destroy it, but the Union men could not allow their old friend and neighbour, though the widow of one whom they had once delighted to honour, to have such valuable property left to her; they immediately communicated to the Yankees that it belonged to the mother of the leader of the party who broke the dam. It was, of course, shelled and burned to the ground, except its old stone walls, which defied their fury; but if it helped the cause, the loss of the property did not weigh a feather with the family. This son has just been promoted to the lieutenant-colonelcy of the Second Regiment. His mother expressed her gratification, but added, that he had been so successful as captain of the company which he had raised, drilled, and led out from his own county, that she dreaded a change; besides, in that Second Regiment so many field-officers had fallen, that she had almost a superstitious dread of it. My dear R., his heart is so bound up in the cause, that self-preservation is the last thing that ever occurs to him. Oh! I trust that all evil may be averted from him.
It is sad to see these elegant University buildings, and that beautiful lawn, which I have always seen teeming with life and animation, now almost deserted. Two of the Professors are on the field; the Professors of Medicine and Surgery are surgeons in the neighbouring hospitals, and Dr. B. is Assist ant Secretary of War. Others, unfitted by age and other circumstances for the service, are here pursuing their usual avocations with assiduity, but through many difficulties. The students are mere boys, not arrived at military age, or, in a few instances, wounded soldiers unfit for service. The hospitals at Charlottesville are very large, and said to be admirably managed. Every lady at this place, or in town, seems to be actively engaged in making the patients comfortable. The kitchens are presided over by ladies; each lady knows her own day to go to a particular kitchen to see that the food is properly prepared and served to the patients—I mean those who are confined to their beds or wards—the regular ” matrons” do every thing else. This rich country supplies milk, butter, fruit, vegetables, fresh meat, etc.; and all kinds of delicacies are prepared by the ladies. Our friends, Dr. and Mrs. M., have sons in the field. The elder, though not of military age at the time, shouldered his musket at the first tap of the drum; he would not be restrained. When I saw him, with his slight figure and boyish look, in his uniform and soldier’s trappings, my heart sank within me, as I remembered that ’twas but as yesterday that this child, with his picture beauty, was the pet of the household. Now he is quite a veteran; has fought on many a field; scorns the idea of danger; prides himself on being a good soldier; never unnecessarily asking for furloughs, and always being present at roll-call. The second son, but sixteen, as his father would not allow him to enlist, has gone as an independent in a cavalry company, merely, he said, for the “summer campaign.” Ah! in this “summer campaign,” scarcely equalled in the annals of history, what horrors might have corne! But he has passed through safely, and his father has recalled him to his college duties. Their mother bears the separation from them, as women of the South invariably do, calmly and quietly, with a humble trust in God, and an unwavering confidence in the justice and righteousness of our cause.
October 1st.—Letters from Winchester, giving cheering accounts of our army. It is stationed at Bunker’s Hill, twelve miles from Winchester, greatly increased since our recent fights, and in fine spirits. We leave Lynchburg to-morrow, and after spending a few days with our friends at the University, proceed to Richmond and Ashland.
30th.—The Richmond Examiner of yesterday contains Lincoln’s Proclamation, declaring all the negroes free from the 1st of January next! The Abolition papers are in ecstasies; as if they did not know that it can only be carried out within their lines, and there they have been practically free from the moment we were invaded. The New York Tribune is greatly incensed at the capture of Harper’s Ferry; acknowledges that the battle of Sharpsburg was a disaster to them—Sumner’s corps alone having lost 5,000 men in killed and wounded. It says it was the “fiercest, bloodiest, and most indecisive battle of the war.” Oh, that their losses could convince them of the wickedness of this contest! but their appetite seems to grow on what it feeds upon. Blood, blood, is still their cry. My heart sickens at the thought of what our dear soldiers have yet to pass through. Arise, O God, in thy strength, and save us from our relentless foes, for thy great name’s sake !
Mr.—— has improved so much in health that we return in a few days to Richmond, that he may again enter upon the duties of his office. Ashland is our destiny for next year; the difficulty of obtaining a house or board in Richmond has induced us to join a party of refugee friends in taking a cottage there. Our children are already there, and write that a comfortable room is awaiting us. Last night we received a message from Mrs. and Miss S., of Alexandria, that they were in this place, having run the blockade, from their oppressed home, during the battles around Richmond, when many of the soldiers had been withdrawn, and of course the surveillance of the old town had become less severe. Mrs. D., of Alexandria, and myself went directly after breakfast to see them. They had much to tell of the reign of terror through which they had gone, and nothing very satisfactory of our homes. Mrs. D’s house was occupied as barracks, and ours as a hospital. Miss had accompanied our friend Mrs. there one day during the last winter; it was used as a hospital, except the front rooms, which were occupied by General N. (a renegade Virginian) as headquarters. Can it be that any native of Virginia can be untrue to her now? Let General Scott, General Newton, and Captain Fairfax answer! General N. married a Northern wife, which must account for his defection. The ladies drove up to our poor old home, the road winding among stumps of trees, which had been our beautiful oak grove; but one tree was left to show where it had been; they inquired for Mrs. N. She was out, and they determined to walk over the house, that they might see the state of our furniture, etc. They went up-stairs, but, on opening the door of our daughter’s room, they found a lady standing at a bed, cutting out work. Mrs. closed the door and turned to my chamber; this she found occupied by a family, children running about the room, etc.; these she afterwards found were the families of the surgeons. With no very amiable feelings she closed that door and went to another room, which, to her relief, was unoccupied; the old familiar furniture stood in its place, and hanging over the mantel was my husband’s portrait. We left it put away with other pictures. The wardrobe, which we had left packed with valuables, stood open and empty; just by it was a large travelling-trunk filled with clothing, which, she supposed, was about to be transferred to the wardrobe. She turned away, and on going down-stairs met Mrs. N., who politely invited her into her (!) parlour. The piano, sofas, etc., were arranged precisely as she had been accustomed to see them arranged, she supposed by our servants, some of whom were still there. This furniture we had left carefully rolled together, and covered, in another room. The weather was cold, and the floor was covered with matting, but no carpet. Mrs. N. apologized, saying that she had lately arrived, and did not know that there was a carpet in the house until, the day before, she was “exploring” the third story, and found in a locked room some very nice ones, which the soldiers were now shaking, and “she should make herself comfortable.” She had just before been expressing holy horror at the soldiers in Alexandria having injured and appropriated the property of others. Mrs. looked at her wonderingly! Does she consider these carpets her own? Our parlour curtains were upon the passage-table, ready to be put up. She found them, no doubt, while exploring the third story, for there we left them securely wrapped up to protect them from moths. Ah! there are some species of moths (bipeds) from which bars and bolts could not protect them. This we did not anticipate. We thought that Federal officers were gentlemen!
25th.—The tables were turned on Saturday, as we succeeded in driving a good many of them into the Potomac. Ten thousand Yankees crossed at Shepherdstown, but unfortunately for them, they found the glorious Stonewall there. A fight ensued at Boteler’s Mill, in which General Jackson totally routed General Pleasanton and his command. The account of the Yankee slaughter is fearful. As they were recrossing the river our cannon was suddenly turned upon them. They were fording. The river is represented as being blocked up with the dead and dying, and crimsoned with blood. Horrible to think of! But why will they have it so? At any time they might stop fighting, and return to their own homes. We do not want their blood, but only to be separated from them as a people, eternally and everlastingly. Mr.—— , Mrs. D., and myself, went to church this evening, and after an address from Mr. K. we took a delightful ride.
A letter from B. H. M., the first she has been able to write for six months, except by “underground railroad,” with every danger of having them read, and perhaps published by the enemy. How, in the still beautiful but much injured Valley, they do rejoice in their freedom! Their captivity—for surrounded as they were by implacable enemies, it is captivity of the most trying kind—has been very oppressive to them. Their cattle, grain, and every thing else, have been taken from them. The gentlemen are actually keeping their horses in their cellars to protect them. Now they are rejoicing in having their own Southern soldiers around them; they are busily engaged nursing the wounded; hospitals are established in Winchester, Berryville, and other places.
Letters from my nephews, W. B. N. and W. N. The first describes the fights of Boonesborough, Sharpsburg, and Shepherdstown. He says the first of these was the severest hand-to-hand cavalry fight of the war. All were terrific. W. speaks of his feelings the day of the surrender of Harper’s Ferry. As they were about to charge the enemy’s intrenchments, he felt as if he were marching into the jaws of death, with, scarcely a hope of escape. The position was very strong, and the charge would be up a tremendous hill over felled timber, which lay thickly upon it—the enemy’s guns, supported by infantry in intrenchments, playing upon them all the while. What was their relief, therefore, to descry the white flag waving from the battlements! He thinks that, in the hands of resolute men, the position would have been impregnable. Thank God, the Yankees thought differently, and surrendered, thus saving many valuable lives, and giving us a grand success. May they ever be thus minded!
24th.—Still no official account of the Sharpsburg fight, and no list .of casualties. The Yankee loss in generals very great—they must have fought desperately. Reno, Mansfield, and Miles were killed; others badly wounded. The Yankee papers say that their loss of “field officers is unaccountable;” and add, that but for the wounding of General Hooker, they would have driven us into the Potomac!
