(•Jornell Hniaeratty Hibrary 
 
 Strata, Nero fork 
 
 THE JAMES VERNER SCAIFE 
 
 COLLECTION 
 
 CIVIL WAR LITERATURE 
 
 THE GIFT OF 
 
 JAMES VERNER SCAIFE 
 
 CLASS OF 1889 
 
 1919 
 
olin 
 
 3 1924 032 778 999 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924032778999 
 
DIARY 
 
 OF A 
 
 SOUTHERN REFUGEE, 
 
 DUKING THE WAR 
 
 A LADY OF VIRGINIA. 
 
 " "We fare on earth as other men have fared. 
 "Were they successful? Let us not despair. 
 Was disappointment oft their sole reward ? 
 Yet shall their tale instruct, if it declare 
 How they have borne the load ourselves are doomed to bear." 
 
 Beattie's Minstrel. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 E. J. HALE & SON, 16 MURRAY STREET. 
 
 1861 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 15<J7 
 
 By E. J. HALE & SON, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 
 District of New York. 
 
MY DEAE LITTLE 
 
 GEANDCHILDKEN, NEPHEWS, AND NIECES, 
 H\ps §aok 
 
 IS MOST AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 
 EY 
 
 THE AUTHORESS. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 to keep a true record. Enormous as were the wrongs done 
 us, yet we had no desire to do the slightest wroDg to even 
 the bitterest of our enemies. We refused not to do them 
 justice ; we were not unwilling to seek for them the mercy 
 of Heaven ; to extend to them the hand of Charity ; to 
 supply their wants when captured ; to attend as far as 
 possible to their sick, and dying, and dead ; and asked for 
 nothing from them but that they would leave our borders, 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 never to return. We could not forget the injury done to 
 our country. If what we wrote indicates tbis, what is it but 
 the voice of nature, which neither fear nor hope could 
 repress ? The ruin of the whole South ! Where are the 
 colours dark enough for that picture ? With her rightful 
 government overturned ; her territory seized by lawless 
 hands ; her system of domestic labour suddenly broken up; 
 her estates robbed; her fields desolated ; her barns destroyed 
 by fire ; her temples profaned ; her once joyous homes here 
 and there silent as death ; her old men and women going 
 with sorrow to the grave, because their gallant sons are not; 
 her fair and fainting daughters mourning for loved ones 
 whom they girded for the fight, and saw again never more ; 
 her widows and orphans, whom sorrow may kill, if want 
 does not starve them ; her wounded, and scarred, and crip- 
 pled, and suffering, with no rest for any save in the quiet 
 graves at home, or in the vast cemeteries, where such hosts 
 of her slaughtered children lie. How must we think or 
 speak of all this ? Let the coldest heart ever frozen by 
 Northern interest or prejudice answer. 
 
 Shall this breach never be healed ? Are there no able 
 and patriotic men North and South — no men of God — fitted 
 to achieve this work without further injury or shame to 
 either party? This great revolution cannot be without 
 God — without whom not a sparrow falls to the ground. If 
 there be error or mischief, that is of man. With God " one 
 day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one 
 day." He sees the end from the beginning. His great 
 " purposes run along the line of ages," and, worked out as He 
 ordains, produce good, and good only. For ages He has 
 blessed the South with the fairest land, the purest social 
 circle, the noblest race of men, and the happiest people, on 
 
PREFACE. 7 
 
 earth. Under a mysterious Providence, millions of the 
 coloured race have been saved from the foulest paganism ; 
 millions mentally and morally elevated far above those of 
 their native land, and multitudes saved in Christ forever. 
 Is it God's purpose to break up this system ? "Who can 
 believe that it was His will to do it by war and bloodshed ? 
 Or that turning this people loose without preparation, a rapid 
 demoralization, idleness, poverty and vice should doom so 
 many of them to misery, or send them so rapidly to the 
 grave ? In this transition state, must the earth remain 
 uncultivated, and its fruits so lessened as to redu^ Jl to 
 comparative poverty, and threaten such numbers with 
 actual starvation ? Must a war of races come ? Must a 
 spirit of bitter hatred burn on between the sections of our 
 unhappy country ? Why not one of peace and forgiveness 
 instead ? Why not the healing balm of love ? Why not 
 the spirit of Christ, pervading all hearts, and binding up all 
 wounds ? God of love, hasten the day ! We are verily in 
 need of His gracious assistance. We have cried to Him 
 through many a gloomy day. The days are dark and dreary 
 still. The old South has passed away; her music is all 
 dead ; her harp hung where no mortal hand can sweep its 
 chords again, and the very winds of Heaven can bring from 
 it naught save a few wailing notes, sad enough to break 
 every human heart. 
 
 "Mourn 
 
 Her 'banislied peace, her laurela torn ; 
 
 Her sons, for valour long renowned, 
 
 Lie slaughtered on their native giound. 
 
 Her hospitable roofs no more 
 
 Invite the stranger to the door ; 
 
 In smoky ruins sunk they lie, 
 
 The monuments of cruelty." 
 
8 PREFACE. 
 
 The following pages are, as intimated above, presented 
 to the public more in compliance with the wishes of others 
 than of the writer. She has no experience in matters of this 
 sort, and claims nothing except what may be due to sincerity 
 and truth. Her earnest prayer is, that what is erroneous 
 may be forgiven her, and the whole result be agreeable and 
 useful to her readers. 
 
DIARY 
 
 OF A 
 
 SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 At Home, May 4, 1861.— I am too nervous, too wretched 
 to-day to write in my diary, but that the employment will 
 while away a few moments of this trying time. Our friends 
 and neighbors have left us. Every thing is broken up. The 
 Theological Seminary is closed ; the High School dismissed. 
 Scarcely any one is left of the many families which surrounded 
 us. The homes all look desolate ; and yet this beautiful 
 country is looking more peaceful, more lovely than ever, as 
 if to rebuke the tumult of passion and the fanaticism of 
 man. We are left lonely indeed ; our children are all gone — 
 the girls to Clarke, where they may be safer, and farther 
 from the exciting scenes which may too soon surround 
 us ; and the boys, the dear, dear boys, to the camp, to be 
 drilled and prepared to meet any emergency. Can it be 
 that our country is to be carried on and on to the horrors 
 of civil war ? I pray, oh how fervently do I pray, that our 
 Heavenly Father may yet avert it. I shut my eyes and 
 hold my breath when the thought of what may come upon 
 us obtrudes itself ; and yet I cannot believe it. It will, I 
 know the breach will be healed without the effusion of 
 blood. The taking of Sumter without bloodshed has some- 
 
 1* 
 
10 DIART OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 what soothed my fears, though I am told by those who arc 
 wiser than I, that men must fall on both sides by the score, 
 by the hundred, and even by the thousand. But it is not 
 my habit to look on the dark side, so I try hard to employ 
 myself, and hope for the best. To-day our house seems so 
 deserted, that I feel more sadj-han usual, for on this morning 
 
 we took leave of our whole household. Mr. and myself 
 
 are now the sole occupants of the house, which usually 
 teems with life. I go from room to room, looking at first 
 one thing and then another, so full of sad associations. The 
 closed piano, the locked bookcase, the nicely-arranged 
 tables, the formally-placed chairs, ottomans and sofas in the ' 
 parlor ! Oh for some one to put them out of order ! And 
 then the dinner-table, which has always been so well sur- 
 rounded, so social, so cheerful, looked so cheerless to-day, as 
 we seated ourselves one at the head, the other at the foot, 
 with one friend, — but one, — at the side. I could scarcely 
 restrain my tears, and but for the presence of that one 
 friend, I believe I should have cried outright. After dinner, 
 I did not mean to do it, but I could not help going into 
 the girls' room, and then into C.'s. I heard my own foot- 
 steps so plainly, that I was startled by the absence of all 
 other sounds. There the furniture looked so quiet, the beds 
 so fixed and smooth, the wardrobes and bureaux so tightly 
 locked, and the whole so lifeless ! But the writing-desks, 
 work-boxes, and the numberless things so familiar to my 
 eyes ! Where were they ? I paused, to ask myself what it 
 all meant. Why did we think it necessary to send off all 
 that was so dear to us from our own home? I threw open 
 the shutters, and the answer came at once, so mournfully ! 
 I heard distinctly the drums beating in Washington. The 
 evening was so still that I seemed to hear nothing else. As 
 
MAY, 1861. 11 
 
 I looked at the Capitol in the distance, I could scarcely 
 believe my senses. That Capitol of which I had always 
 been so proud ! Can it be possible that it is no longer 
 our Capitol ? And are our countrymen, under its very 
 eaves, making mighty preparation to drain our hearts' blood? 
 And must this Union, which I was taught to revere, be rent 
 asunder ? Once I thought such a suggestion sacrilege ; but 
 now that it is dismembered, I trust it may never, never be 
 reunited. We must be a separate people — our nationality 
 must be different, to insure lasting peace and good-will. 
 Why cannot we part in peace ? 
 
 May 10. — Since writing last, I have been busy, very 
 busy, arranging and rearranging. We are now hoping that 
 Alexandria will not be a landing-place for the enemy, but 
 that the forts will be attacked. In that case, they would 
 certainly be repulsed, and we could stay quietly at home. 
 To view the progress of events from any point will be sad 
 enough, but it would be more bearable at our own home, and 
 surrounded by our family and friends. With the supposition 
 that we may remain, and that the ladies of the family at 
 least may return to us, I am having the grounds put in 
 order, and they are now so beautiful ! Lilacs, crocuses, 
 the lily of the valley, and other spring flowers, are in 
 luxuriant bloom, and the roses in full bud. The green- 
 house plants have been removed and grouped on the lawn, 
 verbenas in bright bloom have been transplanted from the 
 pit to the borders, and the grass seems unusually green after 
 the late rains ; the trees are in full leaf ; every thing is so 
 fresh and lovely. " All, save the spirit of man, is divine." 
 
 War seems inevitable, and while I am trying to em- 
 ploy the passing hour, a cloud still hangs over us and all 
 that surrounds us. For a long time before our society was 
 
y 
 
 12 DIARY OP A SOUTHERN" REFUGEE. 
 
 so completely broken up, the ladies of Alexandria and all 
 the surrounding country were busily employed sewing for 
 our soldiers. Shirts, pants, jackets, and beds, of the heaviest 
 material, have been made by the most delicate fingers. All 
 ages, all conditions, meet now on one common platform. 
 We must all work for our country. Our soldiers must be 
 equipped. Our parlor was the rendezvous for our neighbor- 
 hood, and our sewing-machine was in requisition for weeks. 
 Scissors and needles were plied by all. The daily scene was 
 most animated. The fires of our enthusiasm and patriotism 
 were burning all the while to a degree which might have 
 been consuming, but that our tongues served as safety- 
 valves. Oh, how we worked and talked, and excited each 
 other ! One common sentiment animated us all ; no doubts, 
 no fears were felt. We all have such entire reliance in the 
 justice of our cause and the valor of our men, and, above all, 
 on the blessing of Heaven 1 These meetings have necessarily 
 ceased with us, as so few of any age or degree remah at 
 home ; but in Alexandria they are still kept up with great 
 interest. We who are left here are trying to give the 
 soldiers who are quartered in town comfort, by carrying 
 them milk, butter, pies, cakes, etc. I went in yesterday to 
 the barracks, with the carriage well filled with such things, 
 and found many young friends quartered there. All are 
 takiDg up arms ; the first young men in the country are the 
 most zealous. Alexandria is doing her duty nobly; so is 
 Fairfax ; and so, I hope, is the whole South. We are very 
 weak in resources, but strong in stout hearts, zeal for the 
 cause, and euthusiastio devotion to our beloved South ; and 
 while men are making a free-will offering of their life's blood 
 on the altar of their country, women must not be idle. 
 We must do what we can for the comfort of our brave 
 
MAY, 1861. 13 
 
 men. We must sew for them, knit for them, nurse the 
 sick, keep up the faint-hearted, give them a word of encour- 
 agement in season and out of season. There is much for 
 us to do, and we must do it. The embattled hosts of the 
 North will have the whole world from which to draw their 
 supplies ; but if, as it seems but too probable, our ports are 
 blockaded, we shall indeed be dependent on our own exer- 
 tions, and great must those exertions be. 
 
 The Confederate flag waves from several points in 
 Alexandria : from the Marshall House, the Market-house, 
 and the several barracks. The peaceful, quiet old town 
 looks quite warlike. I feel sometimes, when walking on 
 King's street, meeting men in uniform, passing companies of 
 cavalry, hearing martial music, etc., that I must be in a 
 dream. Oh that it were a dream, and that the last ten 
 years of our country's history were blotted out 1 Some of 
 our old men are a little nervous, look doubtful, and talk of 
 the impotency of the South. Oh, I feel utter scorn for 
 such remarks. We must not admit weakness. Our soldiers 
 do not think of weakness ; they know that their hearts are 
 strong, and their hands well skilled in the use of the rifle. 
 Our country boys have been brought up on horseback, aud 
 hunting has ever been their holiday sport. Then why shall 
 they feel weak ? Their hearts feel strong when they think 
 of the justice of their cause. In that is our hope. 
 
 Walked down this evening to see . The road looked 
 
 lonely and deserted. Busy life has departed from our midst. 
 
 We found Mrs. packing up valuables. I have been 
 
 doing the same ; but after they are packed, where are they 
 to be sent ? Silver may be buried, but what is to be done 
 with books, pictures, etc.? We have determined, if we are 
 obliged to go from home, to leave every thing in the care of 
 
.14 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 the servants. They have promised to be faithftil, and I 
 believe they will be ; but my hope becomes stronger and 
 stronger that we may remain here, or may soon return if we 
 go away. Every thing is so sad around us ! We went to the 
 Chapel on Sunday as usual, but it was grievous to see the 
 change — the organ mute, the organist gone ; the seats of 
 the students of both institutions empty; but one or two 
 members of each family to represent the absentees; the 
 
 prayer for the President omitted. When Dr. came to 
 
 it, there was a slight pause, and then he went on to the next 
 prayer — all seemed so strange ! Tucker Conrad, one of the 
 few students who is still here, raised the tunes ; his voice 
 seemed unusually sweet, because so sad. He was feebly 
 supported by all who were not in tears. There was night 
 service, but it rained, and I was not sorry that I could 
 not go. 
 
 May 15. — Busy every moment of time packing up, that 
 our furniture may be safely put away in case of a sudden 
 removal. The parlor furniture has been rolled into the 
 Laboratory, and covered, to keep it from injury ; the books 
 are packed up; the pictures put away with care; house linen 
 locked up, and all other things made as secure as possible. 
 We do not hope to remove many things, but to prevent 
 their ruin. We are constantly told that a large army would 
 do great injury if quartered near us ; therefore we want to 
 put things out of the reach of the soldiers, for I have no 
 idea that officers would allow them to break locks, or that 
 they would allow our furniture to be interfered with. We 
 have a most unsettled feeling — with carpets up, curtains 
 down, and the rooms without furniture ; but a constant 
 excitement, and expectation of we know not what, supplants 
 all other feelings. Nothing but nature is pleasant, and that 
 
MAY, 1861. 15 
 
 is so beautiful ! The first roses of the season are just 
 appearing, and the peonies are splendid ; but the horrors of 
 war, with which we are so seriously threatened, prevent the 
 enjoyment of any thing. I feel so much for the South- 
 erners of Maryland ; I am afraid they are doomed to perse- 
 cution, but it does seem so absurd in Maryland and Kentucky 
 to talk of armed neutrality in the present state of the 
 country ! Let States, like individuals, be independent — be 
 something or nothing. I believe that the very best people 
 of both States are with us, but are held back by stern 
 necessity. Oh that they could burst the bonds that bind 
 them, and speak and act like freemen 1 The Lord reigneth ; 
 to Him only can we turn, and humbly pray that He may 
 see fit to say to the troubled waves, " Peace, be still!" We 
 sit at our windows, and see the bosom of our own Potomac 
 covered with the sails of vessels employed by the enemies of 
 our peace. I often wish myself far away, that I, at least, 
 might not see these things. The newspapers are filled with 
 the boastings of the North, and yet I cannot feel alarmed. 
 My woman's heart does not quail, even though they come, as 
 they so loudly threaten, as an avalanche to overwhelm us. 
 Such is my abiding faith in the justice of our cause, that I 
 have no shadow of doubt of our success. 
 
 May 16. — To-day I am alone. Mr. has gone to 
 
 Richmond to the Convention, and so have the Bishop and 
 Dr. S. I have promised to spend my nights with Mrs. 
 J. All is quiet around us. Federal troops quartered 
 in Baltimore. Poor Maryland ! The North has its heel 
 upon her, and how it grinds her ! I pray that we may have 
 peaceful secession. 
 
 1*1 th. — Still quiet. Mrs. J., Mrs. B., and myself, sat at 
 the Malvern windows yesterday, spying the enemy as they 
 
16 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 sailed up aud down the river. Those going up were heavily 
 laden, carrying provisions, etc., to their troops. I think if 
 all Virginia could see their preparations as we do, her vote 
 would be unanimous for secession. 
 
 21st. — Mr. has returned. Yesterday evening we 
 
 rode to the parade-ground in Alexandria ; it was a beauti- 
 ful but sad sight. How many of those young, brave boys 
 may be cut off, or maimed for life ! I shudder to think of 
 what a single battle may bring forth. The Federal vessel 
 Pawnee now lies before the old town, with its guns pointing 
 towards it. It is aggravating enough to see it ; but the 
 inhabitants move on as calmly as though it were a mes- 
 senger of peace. It is said that an undefended, indefensible 
 town like Alexandria will hardly be attacked. It seems to 
 me strange that they do not go immediately to the Rappa- 
 hannock, the York, or the James, and land at once in the 
 heart of the State. I tremble lest they should make a 
 direct attack upon Richmond. Should they go at once to 
 City Point, and march thence to the city, I am afraid it 
 could hardly be defended. Our people are busy in their 
 preparations for defence ; but time is necessary — every day 
 is precious to us. Our President and military chiefs are 
 doing all that men can do to forward preparations. My ear 
 is constantly pained with the sound of cannon from the 
 Navy- Yard at Washington, and to-day the drum has been 
 beating furiously in our once loved metropolis. Dr. S. says 
 there was a grand dress parade — brothers gleefully prepar- 
 ing to draw their brothers' blood ! 
 
 Day after to-morrow the vote of Yirginia on secession 
 will be taken, and I, who so dearly loved this Union, who 
 from my cradle was taught to revere it, now most earnestly 
 hope that the voice of Virginia may give no uncertain 
 
MAY, 1861. 17 
 
 sound ; that she may leave it with a shout. I am thankful 
 that she did not take so important a step hastily, but that 
 she set an example of patience and long-suffering, and 
 made an earnest effort to maintain peace ; but as all her 
 efforts have been rejected with scorn, and she has been re- 
 quired to give her quota of men to fight and destroy her 
 brethren of the South, I trust that she may now speak 
 decidedly. 
 
 Fairfax C. H., May 25. — The day of suspense is at 
 an end. Alexandria and its environs, including, I greatly 
 fear, our home, is in the hands of the enemy. Yesterday 
 morning, at an early hour, as I was in my pantry, putting 
 up refreshments for the barracks preparatory to a ride to 
 Alexandria, the door was suddenly thrown open by a ser- 
 vant, looking wild with excitement, exclaiming, " Oh, madam, 
 do you know?" " Know what, Henry ?" "Alexandria is 
 filled with Yankees." "Are you sure, Henry?" said I, 
 trembling in every limb. " Sure, madam ! I saw them 
 myself. Before I got up I heard soldiers rushing by the 
 door; went out, and saw our men going to the cars." " Did 
 they get off?" I asked, afraid to hear the answer. "Oh, 
 yes, the cars went off full of them, and some marched 
 out; and then I went to King Street, and saw such crowds 
 of Yankees coming in I They came down the turnpike, and 
 some came down the river ; and presently I heard such 
 noise and confusion, and they said they were fighting, so I 
 came home as fast as I could.'' I lost no time in seeking 
 
 Mr. , who hurried out to hear the truth of the story. 
 
 He soon met Dr. , who was bearing off one of the 
 
 editors in his buggy. He more than confirmed Henry's 
 report, and gave an account of the tragedy at the Marshall 
 House. Poor Jackson (the proprietor) had always said 
 
18 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 that the Confederate flag which floated from the top of his 
 house should never be taken down but over his dead body. 
 It was known that he was a devoted patriot, but his friends 
 had amused themselves at this rash speech. He was sud- 
 denly aroused by the noise of men rushing by his room-door, 
 ran to the window, and seeing at once what was going on, 
 he seized his gun, his wife trying in vain to stop him ; as 
 he reached the passage he saw Colonel Ellsworth coming 
 from the third story, waving the flag. As he passed Jack- 
 son he said, " I have a trophy." Jackson immediately 
 raised his gun, and in an instant Ellsworth fell dead. One 
 of the party immediately killed poor Jackson. The Federals 
 then proceeded down the street, taking possession of public 
 houses, etc. I am mortified to write that a party of our 
 cavalry, thirty-five in number, was captured. It can 
 scarcely be accounted for. It is said that the Federals 
 notified the authorities in Alexandria that they would enter 
 the city at eight, and the captain was so credulous as to 
 believe them. Poor fellow, he is now a prisoner, but it will 
 be a lesson to him and to our troops generally. Jackson 
 leaves a wife and children. I know the country will take 
 care of them. He is the first martyr. I shudder to think 
 how many more' there may be. 
 
 The question with us was, what was next to be done ? 
 
 Mr. had voted for secession, and there were Union 
 
 people enough aronnd us to communicate every thing of the 
 sort to the Federals; the few neighbours who were left were 
 preparing to be off, and we thought it most prudent to 
 come off too. Pickets were already thrown out beyond 
 Shuter's Hill, and they were threatening to arrest all seces- 
 sionists. With a heavy heart I packed trunks and boxes, 
 as many as our little carriage would hold ; had packing- 
 
MAT, 1861. 19 
 
 boxes fixed in my room for the purpose of bringing off 
 valuables of various sorts, when I go down on Monday ; 
 locked up every thing; gave the keys to the cook, enjoining 
 upon the servants to take care of the cows, " Old Rock," 
 
 the garden, the flowers, and last, but not least, J 's 
 
 splendid Newfoundland. Poor dog, as we got into the car- 
 riage how I did long to take him ! When we took leave 
 of the servants they looked sorrowful, and we felt so. I" 
 
 promised them to return to-day, but Mr. ■ was so sick 
 
 this morning that I could not leave him, and have deferred 
 
 it until day after to-morrow. Mr. said, as he looked 
 
 out upon the green lawn just before we set off, that he 
 thought he had never seen the place so attractive ; and as 
 we drove off the bright flowers we had planted seemed 
 in full glory ; every flower-bed seemed to glow with the 
 " Giant of Battles" and other brilliant roses. In bitterness 
 of heart I exclaimed, "Why must we leave thee, Para- 
 dise 1" and for the first time my tears streamed. As we 
 drove by " The Seminary," the few students who remained 
 came out to say " Good-by." One of them had just re- 
 turned from Alexandria, where he had seen the bodies of 
 Ellsworth and Jackson, and another, of which we had heard 
 through one of our servants who went to town in the morn- 
 ing. When the Federal troops arrived, a man being ordered 
 to take down the secession flag from above the market- 
 house, and run up the " stars and stripes,'' got nearly to 
 the flag, missed his foothold, fell, and broke his neck. This 
 remarkable circumstance was told me by two persons who 
 saw the body. Is it ominous ? I trust and pray that it 
 may be. 
 
 When we got to Bailey's Cross Roads, Mr. said to 
 
 me that we were obliged to leave our home, and as far as 
 
20 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 we have a right to any other, it makes not the slightest 
 difference which road we take — we might as well drive to 
 the right hand as to the left — nothing remains to us but the 
 barren, beaten track. It was a sorrowful thought; but we 
 have kind relations and friends whose doors are open to us, 
 and we hope to get home again before very long. The 
 South did not bring on the war, and I believe that God 
 will provide for the homeless. 
 
 About sunset we drove up to the door of this, the house 
 of our relative, the Rev. Mr. B., and were received with 
 the warmest welcome. As we drove through the village 
 we saw the carriage of Commodore F. standing at the 
 hotel door, and were soon followed by the C.'s of our 
 neighbourhood and many others. They told us that the 
 "Union men of the town were pointing out the houses of 
 the Secessionists, and that some of them had already been 
 taken by Federal officers. When I think of all this my 
 heart quails within me. Our future is so dark and shadowy, 
 so much may, nay must, happen before we again become 
 quiet, and get back, that I feel sad and dreary. I have no 
 fear for the country — that must and will succeed; but our 
 dear ones ! — the representatives of every State, almost every 
 family, from the Potomac to the Gulf of Mexico — how 
 must they suffer, and how must we at home suffer in their 
 behalf! 
 
 This little village has two or three companies quartered 
 in it. It seems thoroughly aroused from the quiescent state 
 which it was wont to indulge. Drums are beating, colours 
 flying, and ever and anon we are startled by the sound of a 
 gun. At Fairfax Station there are a good many troops, a 
 South Carolina regiment at Centreville, and quite an army 
 is collecting at Manassas Station. We shall be greatly 
 
MAY, 1861. 21 
 
 outnumbered, I know, but numbers cannot make up for the 
 zeal and patriotism of our Southern men fighting for home 
 and liberty. 
 
 Hay 29. — I cannot get over my disappointment ; I am 
 not to return home ; the wagon was engaged. E. W. had 
 promised to accompany me ; all things seemed ready ; but 
 yesterday a gentleman came up from the Seminary, report- 
 ing that the public roads are picketed far beyond our house, 
 and that he had to cross fields, etc., to avoid an arrest, as 
 he had no pass. I know that there are private roads which 
 we could take, of which the enemy knows nothing ; and 
 even if they saw me, they surely would not forbid ingress 
 
 and egress to a quiet elderly lady like myself. But Mr. 
 
 thinks that I ought not to risk it. The fiat has gone forth, 
 and I am obliged to submit. I hear that the house has 
 been searched for arms, and that J's old rifle has been 
 filched from its corner. It was a wonderfully harmless rifle, 
 having been innocent even of the blood of squirrels and 
 hares for some time past. I wonder if they do suppose 
 that we would leave good fire-arms in their reach when they 
 are so much wanted in the Confederacy, or if it is a mere 
 pretext for satisfying a little innocent curiosity for seeing 
 the interior of Southern homes ? Ah, how many North- 
 erners — perhaps the very men who have come to despoil 
 these homes, to kill our husbands, sons and brothers, to 
 destroy our peace — have been partakers of the warm- 
 hearted hospitality so freely offered by our people ! The 
 parlours and dining-rooms now so ignominiously searched, 
 how often have they been opened, and the best cheer which 
 the houses could afford set forth for them! I do most 
 earnestly hope that no Northern gentleman, above all, no 
 Christian gentleman, will engage in this wicked war of inva- 
 
22 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 sion. It makes my blood boil when I remember that our 
 private rooms, our chambers, our very sanctums, are thrown 
 open to a ruthless soldiery. But let me not do them injus- 
 tice. I believe that they took nothing but the rifle, and 
 injured nothing but the sewing-machine. Perhaps they 
 knew of the patriotic work of that same machine— how it 
 had stitched up many a shirt and many a jacket for our 
 brave boys, and therefore did it wrong. But this silent 
 agent for our country's weal shall not lie in ruins. When 
 I get it again, it shall be repaired, and shall 
 
 "Stitch, stitch, stitch, 
 Band, and gusset, and seam," 
 
 for the comfort of our men, and it shall work all the more 
 vigorously for the wrongs it has suffered. 
 
 I am indulging myself in writing on and on, because I 
 have so little occupation now, and I feel so anxious and rest- 
 less about those so near and dear to us, who have gone forth 
 to defend us. The loss of property will be as nothing if our 
 boys are spared. I am willing to be poor, but let, oh, let 
 our family circles be unbroken 1 But I may feel too much 
 anxiety, even on this subject. Our children have gone forth 
 in a just and righteous cause; into God's hands let us con- 
 sign them ; they are doing their duty ; to His will let us 
 submit ! 
 
 29i/i, Night. — Several of our friends from Alexandria 
 have passed to-day. Many families who attempted to stay 
 at home are escaping as best they may, finding that the 
 liberty of the hoary-headed fathers of patriotic sons is at 
 stake, and others are in peril for opinion's sake. It is too 
 
 provoking to think of such men as Dr. and Dr. 
 
 being obliged to hide themselves in their houses, until their 
 
JUNE, 1861. 23 
 
 wives, by address and strategy, obtain passes to get them 
 out of town ! Now they go with large and helpless 
 families, they know not whither. Many have passed whom 
 I did not know. What is to become of us all ? 
 
 Chantilly, June 1. — We came here (the house of our 
 friend Mrs. S.) this morning, after some hours of feverish 
 excitement. About three o'clock in the night we were 
 aroused by a volley of musketry not far from our windows. 
 Every human being in the house sprang up at once. We 
 soon saw by the moonlight a body of cavalry moving up 
 the street, and as they passed below our window (we were 
 in the upper end of the village) we distinctly heard the 
 commander's order, " Halt." They again proceeded a few 
 paces, turned and approached slowly, and as softly as 
 though every horse were shod with velvet. In a few 
 moments there was another volley, the firing rapid, and to 
 my unpractised ear there seemed a discharge of a thousand 
 muskets. Then came the same body of cavalry rushing by 
 in wild disorder. Oaths loud and deep were heard from the 
 commander. They again formed, and rode quite rapidly 
 into the village. Another volley, and another, then such 
 a rushing as I never witnessed. The cavalry-strained by, 
 the commander calling out " Halt, halt," with curses and 
 imprecations. On, on they went, nor did they stop. While 
 the balls were flying, I stood riveted to the window, uncon- 
 scious of danger. When I was forced away, I took refuge 
 in the front yard. Mrs. B. was there before me, and 
 we witnessed the disorderly retreat of eighty-five of the 
 Second United States Cavalry (regulars) before a much 
 smaller body of our raw recruits. They had been sent from 
 Arlington, we suppose, to reconnoitre. They advanced on 
 the village at fall speed, into the cross-street by the hotel 
 
24 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 and court-house, then wheeled to the right, down by the 
 Episcopal church. We could only oppose them with the 
 Warrenton Rifles, as for some reason the cavalry could not 
 be rendered effective. Colonel Ewell, who happened to be 
 there, arranged the Rifles, and I think a few dismounted 
 cavalry, on either side of the street, behind the fence, so as 
 to make it a kind of breastwork, whence they returned the 
 enemy's fire most effectively. Then came the terrible sus- 
 pense; all was confusion on the street, and it was not yet 
 quite light. One of our gentlemen soon came in with the 
 sad report that Captain Marr of the Warrenton Rifles, a 
 young officer of great promise, was found dead. The gallant 
 Rifles were exulting in their success, until it was whispered 
 that their captaiu was missing. Had he been captured ? 
 Too soon the uncertainty was ended, and their exultaut 
 shouts hushed. His body was found in the high grass — 
 dead, quite dead. Two of our men received slight flesh- 
 wounds. The enemy carried off their dead and wounded. 
 We captured four men and three horses. Seven of their 
 horses were left dead on the roadside. They also dropped 
 a number of arms, which were picked up by our men. 
 After having talked the matter over, we were getting quite 
 composed, and thought we had nothing more to fear, when 
 we observed them placing sentinels in Mr. B.'s porch, 
 saying that it was a high point, and another raid was ex- 
 pected. The gentlemen immediately ordered the carriages, 
 and in half an hour Mr. B's family and ourselves were 
 on our way to this place. As we approached the house, 
 after a ride of six miles, the whole family came out to 
 receive us. L. and B. ran across the lawn to meet us, 
 with exclamations of pleasure at seeing us. Wo were 
 soon seated in the parlour, surrounded by every thin"- that 
 
jttne, 1861. 25 
 
 was delightful — Mrs. S. all kindness, and her daughters 
 making the house pleasant and attractive. It was indeed 
 a haven of rest to us after the noise and tumult of the 
 court-house. They were, of course, in great excitement, 
 having heard wild stories of the fight. "We all rejoiced, 
 and returned thanks to God that lie had enabled our men 
 to drive off the invaders. 
 
 This evening we have been enjoying a walk about these 
 lovely grounds. Nature and art have combined to make it 
 one of the most beautiful spots I ever saw — " So clean, so 
 green, so flowery, so bowery," as Hannah wrote of Hamp- 
 stead ; and we look on it sadly, fearing that the " trail of 
 the serpent may pass over it all." Can it be that other 
 beautiful homes are to be deserted ? The ladies of the 
 family are here alone, the sons are where they should be, in 
 the camp; and should the Northern army sweep over it, 
 they cannot remain here. It is pitiful to think of it. They 
 all look so happy together, and then if they go they must 
 be scattered. Colonel Gregg and others of a South Caro- 
 lina regiment dined here yesterday. They are in fine spirits, 
 and very sanguine. 
 
 June 6. — Still at Chantilly. Every thing quiet, nothing 
 particularly exciting ; yet we are so restless. Mrs. C. and 
 myself rode to the camp at Fairfax Court-House a day or 
 two ago to see many friends ; but my particular object was 
 to see my nephew, W. B. N., first lieutenant in the Han- 
 over troop. He looks well and cheerful, full of enthusiasm 
 and zeal; but he feels that we have a great work before us, 
 and that we have entered upon a more important revolution 
 than our ancestors did in 1715. How my heart yearned 
 over him,. when I thought of his dear wife and children, and 
 -his sweet home, and how cheerfully he had left all for the 
 
 2 
 
26 DIARY OF A SOUTHERX REFUGEE. 
 
 sake of his country. His bright political prospects, his 
 successful career at the bar, which for one so young was so 
 remarkable, his future in every respect so full of hope and j 
 promise— all, all laid aside. But it is all right, and when he \ 
 returns to enjoy his unfettered country, his hardships will 
 be all forgotten, in joy for his country's triumphs. The 
 number in camp there has greatly increased since we came 
 away. We came home, and made havelocks and haversacks 
 for the men. The camp at Harper's Perry is said to be 
 strong and strengthening. 
 
 Mrs. General Lee has been with us for several days. She 
 is on her way to the lower country, and feels that she has 
 left Arlington for an indefinite period. They removed their 
 valuables, silver, etc., but the furniture is left behind. I 
 never saw her more cheerful, and she seems to have no 
 doubt of our success. We are looking to her husband as 
 our leader with implicit confidence; for besides his great 
 military abilities, he is a God-fearing man, and looks for 
 help where alone it is to be found. Letters from Richmond 
 are very cheering. It is one great barracks. Troops are 
 assembling there from every part of the Confederacy, all 
 determined to do their duty. Ladies assemble daily, by 
 hundreds, at the various churches, for the purpose of sewing 
 for the soldiers. They are fitting out company after com- 
 pany. The large stuccoed house at the corner of Clay and 
 Twelfth streets, so long occupied by Dr. John Brocken- 
 brough, has been purchased as a residence for the Presi- 
 dent. I am glad that it has been thus appropriated. We 
 expect to leave this place in a day or two for Clarke County 
 for the summer, and we part with this dear family with a 
 sad feeling that they may too soon have to leave it too. 
 Mrs. S. has already sent off her plate and paintings to a 
 
june, 1861. 27 
 
 place of safety. Mrs. C. is here with her mother. She 
 left home when the army approached our neighborhood; 
 she could not stay alone with her little son. Like ourselves, 
 she brought off in her carriage what valuables she could, 
 but necessarily has left much, which she fears may be ruined. 
 Oh, that I had many things tha£ are locked up at home I 
 so many relics — hair of the dead, little golden memorials, 
 etc. — all valueless to others, but very dear to our hearts. 
 Alas, alas ! I could not go back for them, and thieves may 
 break through and steal. I trust that the officers will not 
 allow it to be done, and try to rest contented. 
 
 The Briars, June 12. — We are now in the beautiful Val- 
 ley of Virginia, having left Chantilly on the 8th. The 
 ride through the Piedmont country was delightful; it looked 
 so peaceful and calm that we almost forgot the din of war 
 we had left behind us. The road through Loudoun and Fau- 
 quier was picturesque and beautiful. We passed through 
 the villages of Aldie, Middleburg, and TTpperville. At 
 Middleburg we stopped for an hour, and regaled ourselves 
 on strawberries and cream at the house of our excellent 
 brother, the Rev. Mr. K. At TJpperville we spent the 
 night. Early next morning we went on through the vil- 
 lage of Paris, and then began to ascend the Blue Ridge, 
 wound around on the fine turnpike, paused a moment at the 
 top to " view the landscape o'er," and then descended into 
 the " Valley." The wheat, which is almost ready for the 
 reaper, is rich and luxuriant, foreshadowing an abundant 
 commissariat for our army. After driving some miles over 
 the delightful turnpike, we found ourselves at this door, re- 
 ceiving the warm-hearted welcome of the kindest of relatives 
 and the most pleasant of hosts. Our daughters were here 
 before us, all well, and full of questions about " home." This 
 
28 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 is all very delightful when we fancy ourselves making a 
 voluntary visit to this family, as in days gone by, to return 
 home when the visit is over, hoping soon to see our friends 
 by our own fireside; but when the reality is before us that 
 we were forced from home, and can only return when it 
 pleases our enemy to open tlie way for us, or when our men 
 have forced them away at the point of the bayonet, then 
 does our future seem shadowy, doubtful, and dreary, and 
 then we feel that our situation is indeed sorrowful. But 
 these feelings must not be indulged; many are already in 
 our situation, and how many more are there who may have 
 to follow our example! Having no houses to provide for, 
 we must be up and doing for our country; idleness does not 
 become us now — there is too much to be done; we must 
 work on, work ever, and let our country's weal be our beiDg's 
 end and aim. 
 
 Yesterday we went to Winchester to see my dear S., 
 and found her house full of refugees : my sister Mrs. C, 
 and her daughter Mrs. L., from Berkeley County. Mrs. 
 C.'s sons are in the army ; her eldest, having been 
 educated at the Virginia Military Institute, drilled a com- 
 pany of his own county men during the John Brown raid; 
 he has now taken it to the field, and is its commander; and 
 Mr. L. is in the army, with the rank of major. Of 
 course the ladies of the family were active in fitting out the 
 soldiers, and when an encampment was near them, they did 
 every thing in their power to contribute to the comfort of 
 the soldiers ; for which sins the Union people around them 
 have thought proper to persecute them, until they were 
 obliged to leave home — Mrs. L. with two sick children. 
 Her house has been searched, furniture broken, and many 
 depredations committed since she left home ; books thrown 
 
june, 1861. 29 
 
 out of the windows during a rain : nothing escaped their 
 fury. 
 
 Winchester is filled with hospitals, and the ladies are 
 devoting their energies to nursing the soldiers. The sick 
 from the camp at Harper's Ferrry are brought there. Our 
 climate seems not to suit the men from the far South. I 
 hope they will soon become acclimated. It rejoices my 
 heart to see how much everybody is willing to do for the 
 poor fellows. The ladies there think no effort, however self- 
 sacrificing, is too great to be made for the soldiers. Nice 
 food for the sick is constantly being prepared by old and 
 young. Those who are very sick are taken to the private 
 houses, and the best chambers in town are occupied by 
 them. The poorest private and the officer of high degree 
 meet with the same treatment. The truth is, the elite of 
 the land is in the ranks. I heard a young soldier say, a few 
 nights ago, that his captain was perhaps the plainest man, 
 socially, in the company, but that he was an admirable 
 officer. We heard a good story about a wealthy young 
 private whose captain was his intimate friend, but not being 
 rich, he could not afford to take a servant to camp; it there- 
 fore fell to the lot of the privates to clean the captain's 
 shoes. When the turn of the wealthy friend came, he 
 walked up, cap in hand, with an air of due humility, gave 
 the military salute, and said, with great gravity, " Captain, 
 your shoes, if you please, sir." The ludicrousness of the 
 scene was more than either could stand, and they laughed 
 heartily. But the wealthy private cleaned the captain's 
 shoes. 
 
 June 15. — Yesterday was set apart by the President as 
 a day of prayer and fasting, and I trust that throughout 
 the Confederacy the blessing of God was invoked npon the 
 
30 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 army and country. We went to church at Millwood, and 
 heard Bishop Meade. His sermon was full of wisdom and 
 love ; he urged us to individual piety in all things, par- 
 ticularly to love and charity to our enemies. He is full of 
 enthusiasm and zeal for our cause. His whole heart is in 
 it, and from the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh, 
 for he talks most delightfully and encouragingly on the 
 subject. He says that if our ancestors had good reason for 
 taking up arms in 1175, surely we had much better, for 
 the oppression they suffered from the mother-country was 
 not a tithe of the provocation we have received from the 
 Government at Washington. 
 
 16th. — Rumours are abundant to-day of a Federal force 
 approaching Strasburg. We are not at all credulous of the 
 flying reports with which our ears are daily pained, and yet 
 they make us restless and uneasy. We thank God and 
 take courage from the little successes we have already had 
 at Pigs Point, Acquia Creek, Fairfax Court-House, and Phi- 
 lippi. These are mere trifles, they say ; well, so they are, 
 but they are encouraging to our men, and show that we can 
 hold our own. 
 
 A most decided revolution is going on in our social 
 system throughout our old State : economy rules the day. 
 In this neighbourhood, which has been not a little remark- 
 able for indulging in the elegancies of life, they are giving 
 up desserts, rich cake, etc. The wants of the soldiers are 
 supplied with a lavish hand, but personal indulgences are 
 considered unpatriotic. How I do admire their self-denying 
 spirit 1 I do not believe there is a woman among us who 
 would not give up every thing but the bare necessaries of 
 life for the good of our cause. 
 
 16th, Night. — I can scarcely control myself to sit quietly 
 
june, 1861. 31 
 
 down and write of the good news brought by the mail of 
 to-day; I mean the victory — on our side almost bloodless 
 victory — at Bethel. It took place on the 10th. Strange 
 that such brilliant news was so long delayed 1 The enemy 
 lost 200 men, and we but one. He, poor fellow, belonged 
 to a North Carolina regiment, and his bereaved mother re- 
 ceived his body. She lives in Richmond. It seems to me 
 that Colonel Magruder must have displayed consummate skill 
 in the arrangement of his little squad of men. His " blind 
 battery " succeeded admirably. The enemy had approached 
 in two parties from Fortress Monroe, and, by mistake, fired 
 into each other, causing great slaughter. They then united 
 and rushed into the jaws of death, or, in other words, into 
 the range of the guns of the blind battery. I feel sorry, 
 very sorry, for the individual sufferers among the Yankees, 
 particularly for those who did not come voluntarily; but 
 they have no business here, and the more unsuccessful they 
 are the sooner their government will recall them. I do 
 believe that the hand of God was in this fight, we were so 
 strangely successful. How we all gathered around M. M. 
 as she read the account given in the paper; and how we 
 exulted and talked, and how Mr. P. walked backwards and 
 forwards, rubbing his hands with delight! 
 
 The camp at Harper's Ferry is broken up. General John- 
 ston knows why; I am sure that I do not. He is sending 
 out parties of troops to drive off the Yankees, who are 
 marauding about the neighbouring counties, but who are very 
 careful to keep clear of the " Ferry." The Second Regi- 
 ment, containing some of our dear boys, has been lately 
 very actively engaged in pursuit of these marauders, and 
 we are kept constantly anxious about them. 
 
 \%ih. — We go to-day to dine with Bishop Meade. He 
 
( 
 
 32 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 wishes us to spend much of our time with him. He says 
 he must have the " refugees," as he calls- us, at his house. 
 Dear me, I am not yet prepared to think ourselves refugees, 
 for I do hope to get home before long. How often do I 
 think of it, as I left it ! Not only blooming in its beauty, 
 but the garden filled with vegetables, the strawberries turn- 
 ing on the vines, the young peach-orchard in full bloom ; 
 every thing teeming with comfort and abundance. 
 
 But the family is waiting for me ; the carriage is at the 
 door, and my sad thoughts must end. 
 
 Night. — The day was passed delightfully ; the Bishop, 
 his son, and daughter-in-law, all so kind, hospitable and 
 agreeable. It amused me to see with what avidity the old 
 gentleman watches the progress of events, particularly 
 when I remember how much opposed he was to secession 
 only a few months ago. He clung to the Union with a 
 whole-souled love for all that he had been educated to 
 revere, as long as he could do it ; but when every proposal 
 for peace made by us was spurned, and when the Presi- 
 dent's proclamation came out, calling for ^OOO troops, 
 and claiming Virginia's quota to assist in fighting her 
 Southern brethren, he could stand it no longer, and I only 
 hope that the revolution may be as thorough throughout 
 the land as it is in his great mind. 
 
 " Mountain View " is beautiful by nature, and the Bishop 
 has been collecting exotic trees and shrubs for many years, 
 and now his collection is perfectly magnificent. This 
 country is so far very peaceful, but we are constantly sub- 
 jected to the most startling rumours, and the frequent, 
 though distant, booming of cannon is very trying to our 
 nervous and excitable temperaments. Many, so many, of 
 our dear ones are constantly exposed to danger ; and 
 
july, 1861. 33 
 
 though we would not have it otherwise — we could uot bear 
 that one of them should hesitate to give his life's-blood 
 to his country — yet it is heart-breaking to think of what 
 may happen. 
 
 June 19. — Yesterday evening we heard rumours of the 
 Federal troops having crossed the Potomac, and marching 
 to Martinsburg and Shepherdstown in large force. General 
 Johnston immediately drew up his army at a place called 
 " Carter's," on the Charlestown road, about four miles be- 
 yond Winchester. Messrs. B. and R. M. called this morn- 
 ing, and report that the location of the Federals is very un- 
 certain ; it is supposed that they have retreated from Mar- 
 tinsburg. Oh, that our Almighty Father, who rules all 
 things, would interpose and give us peace, even now when 
 all seem ready for war ! He alone can do it. 
 
 June 24. — We have been in Winchester for the last two 
 days, at Dr. S's. General Johnston's army encamped at 
 " The Lick." Some Southern regiments encamped near 
 Winchester. The army at Manassas said to be strongly 
 reinforced. Measles prevailing there, and near Winchester, 
 among the troops. There has been a slight skirmish in 
 Hampshire, on New Creek, and another at Vienna, in Fair- 
 fax County. We repulsed the enemy at both places. Cap- 
 tain Kemper, of Alexandria, led our men in the latter fight, 
 and is much extolled for his dexterity and bravery. 
 
 July 1 . — A rumour of a skirmish, in which the Messrs. 
 Ashby were engaged, and that Richard Ashby was severely 
 wounded. I trust it may not be true. 
 
 July 3. — A real fight has occcurred near Williamsport, 
 but on the Virginia side of the Potomac. General Cad- 
 wallader crossed the river with, it is said, 14,000 men, to 
 attack our force of 4,000 stationed there under Colonel 
 
al 
 
 34 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 Jackson. Colonel J. thought it folly to meet such an armj 
 with so small a force, and therefore ordered a retreat ; buj 
 quite a body of artillery remained to keep the enemy 
 bay. They retained with them but one gun, a six-pounder 
 The Rev. Dr. Pendleton, now captain of artillery, com' 
 manded this gun, and whenever he ordered its discharge 
 he was heard to say, reverently, " The Lord have mercj 
 upon their souls — fire 1" The result was almost miraculous! 
 but four of our men were missing, two of whom were killed) 
 twenty were wounded, and have been brought to the Win] 
 Chester hospitals ; sixty-five prisoners were taken, and are 
 now in Winchester. Many of their men were seen to fallJ 
 Our men, who did this deadly firing, retreated in perfect 
 order. I heard this from one who was on the field at the 
 time. It is said that in Dr. Pendleton the soldier and the 
 chaplain are blended most harmoniously. A gentleman who 
 went to the camp to visit his sons, who belong to the " Rock- 
 bridge Battery," told me that he arose before daylight, and 
 was walking about the encampment, and when near a dense 
 wood his attention was arrested by the voice of prayer; be 
 found it was the sonorous voice of Dr. P., who was sur- 
 rounded by his company, invoking for them, and for the 
 country, the blessing of Heaven. What a blessing it is for 
 those young men, away from the influences of home, and 
 exposed to the baneful associations of the camp, to have 
 -such a guide! It has almost reconciled me to the clergj 
 going upon the field as soldiers. The Bishop of Louisiana 
 has been to Mountain Yiew, to consult Bishop Meade on the 
 subject of his taking the field. I do not know what advicq 
 was given. These reverend gentlemen, who were educated, 
 at West Point, are perfectly conscientious, and think it theii 
 duty to give their military knowledge to their country, anc 
 
july, 1861. 35 
 
 their presence may do much for the spiritual good of the 
 army. 
 
 Brave Richard Ashby is dead ; how I grieve for his 
 family and for his country, for we cannot afford to lose such 
 men ! 
 
 July 4. — This day General Scott promised himself and 
 his Northern friends to dine in Richmond. Poor old rene- 
 gade, I trust he has eaten his last dinner in Richmond, 
 the place of his marriage, the birthplace of his children, 
 the home of his early friendships, and so near the place of 
 his nativity and early years. 
 
 How can he wish to enter Richmond but as a friend ? 
 But it is enough for us to know that he is disappointed in 
 his amiable and patriotic wish to-day. So may it be. 
 
 I have seen W. H., who has just returned from Fairfax. 
 Last week he scouted near our house, and gives no very 
 encouraging report for us. Our hills are being fortified, and 
 Alexandria and the neighbourhood have become one vast 
 barracks. The large trees are being felled, and even houses 
 are falling by order of the invader ! Our prospect of get- 
 ting home becomes more and more dim; my heart sinks 
 within me, and hope is almost gone. What shall we do, if 
 the war continues until next winter, without a certain rest- 
 ing-place? Our friends are kind and hospitable, open-hearted 
 and generous to a wonderful degree. In this house we are 
 made to feel not only welcome, but that our society gives 
 them heartfelt pleasure. Other friends, too, are most kind 
 in giving invitations " for the war" — " as long as we find it 
 agreeable to stay," etc.; but while this is very gratifying and 
 delightful, yet we must get some place, however small and 
 humble, to call home. Our friends here amuse themselves 
 at my fears; but should the war continue, I do not think 
 
36 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 that they have any guarantee that they will not be sur- 
 rounded by an unfriendly host They think that they will 
 not leave their homes under any circumstances; perhaps not, 
 because they are surrounded by so much property that they 
 must protect ; but the situation will be very trying. When- 
 ever I express a feeling of despondency, Mr. meets it 
 
 with the calm reply, that the " Lord will provide," so that 
 I am really ashamed to give place to fear. The situa- 
 tion of the people of Hampton is far worse than ours — their 
 homes reduced to ashes; their church in ruins! That ven- 
 erable colonial church, in which for generations they 
 have been baptized, received the Holy Communion, been 
 married, and around which their dead now lie. Their very 
 graves desecrated ; their tomb-stones torn down and broken ; 
 the slabs, sacred to the memory of their fathers, children, 
 husbands, wives, which have been watched and decorated 
 perhaps for years, now converted into dining-tables for the 
 Yankee soldiery. How can human hearts bear such things 
 and live ? We have not yet been subjected to any thing of 
 the kind, and I humbly trust that so dire a calamity may be 
 averted. 
 
 July 5. — Yesterday M. P. and myself spent several 
 hours riding about to visit onr friends. The news of the 
 day was, that General Patterson, with a large force, had 
 crossed the river and taken possession of Martinsburg, and 
 that General Johnston had sent Colonel Stuart, with his 
 cavalry, to reconuoitre and cut off his supplies, and to pre- 
 vent a retreat. All these things make us anxious, particu- 
 larly as the booming of cannon is not unfrequent; but my 
 faith in the justice of our cause is strong. 
 
 6th. — No army news to be relied on. We spent our 
 time as usual. Knitting for the soldiers is our chief employ- 
 
JULY, 1861. 37 
 
 ment. Several suits of clothes for them are in progress in 
 the house. 
 
 Sunday, 9th. — About to go to church. I trust that this 
 Sabbath may be instrumental of much spiritual good, and 
 that the hearts of the people may be busy in prayer, both 
 for friends and enemies. Oh, that the Spirit of God may 
 be with the soldiers, to direct them in keeping this holy day ! 
 We are in the Lord's hands — He alone can help us. 
 
 July 18. — During the last ten days we have been visiting 
 among our friends, near Berryville, and in Winchester. The 
 wheat harvest is giving the most abundant yield, and the 
 fields are thick with corn. Berryville is a little village sur- 
 rounded by the most beautiful country and delightful soci- 
 ety. Patriotism burns brightly there, and every one is busy 
 for the country in his or her own way. It is cheering to 
 be among such people; the ladies work, and the gentlemen — 
 the old ones — no young man is at home — give them every 
 facility. But Winchester, what shall I say for Winchester 
 that will do it justice ? It is now a hospital. The soldiers 
 from the far South have never had measles, and most unfor- 
 tunately it has broken out among them, and many of them 
 have died of it, notwithstanding the attention of surgeons 
 and nurses. No one can imagine the degree of self-sacri- 
 ficiDg attention the ladies pay them ; they attend to their 
 comfort in every respect ; their nourishment is prepared at 
 private houses; every lady seems to remember that her son, 
 brother, or husband may be placed in the same situation 
 among strangers, and to be determined to do unto others 
 as she would have others to do unto her. 
 
 War still rages. Winchester is fortified, and General 
 Johnston has been reinforced. He now awaits General Pat- 
 terson, who seems slowly approaching. 
 
38 DIAEY OF A SOUTHEEK EEFUGEE. 
 
 While in Winchester, I heard of the death of one who 
 has been for many years as a sister to me — Mrs. L. A. P., 
 of S. H., Hanover County. My heart is sorely stricken by 
 it, particularly when I think of her only child, and the many 
 who seemed dependent on her for happiness. She died on 
 Saturday last. With perfect resignation to the will of God, 
 she yielded up her redeemed spirit, without a doubt 
 of its acceptance. In ccelo quies. There is none for us 
 here. 
 
 We have been dreadfully shocked by the defeat at Rich 
 Mountain and the death, of General Garnett! It is the : 
 first repulse we have had, and we should not complain, as 
 we were overpowered by superior numbers ; but we have 
 so much to dread from superior numbers — they are like the 
 sand upon the sea-shore for multitude. Our men say that 
 one Southern man is equal to three Yankees. Poor fel- 
 lows! I wish that their strength may be equal to their 
 valour. It is hard to give up such a man as General 
 Garnett. He was son of the late Hon. Robert S. Garnett, 
 of Essex County ; educated at West Point ; accomplished 
 and gallant. His military knowledge and energy will be 
 sadly missed. It was an unfortunate stroke, the whole 
 affair ; but we must hope on, and allow nothing to de- 
 press us. 
 
 I have just returned from a small hospital which has 
 recently been established in a meeting-house near us. The 
 convalescent are sent down to recruit for service, and to 
 recover their strength in the country, and also to relieve 
 the Winchester hospitals. The ladies of the neighbourhood 
 are doing all they can to make them comfortable. They 
 are full of enthusiasm, and seem to be very cheerful, except 
 when they speak of home. They are hundreds of miles 
 
July, 1861. 39 
 
 from wife, children, and friends. Will they ever see them 
 again ? I have been particularly interested in one who is 
 just recovering from typhoid fever. I said to Mm as I 
 sat fanning him : " Are you married ?" His eyes filled 
 with tears as he replied, "Not now ; I have been, and my 
 little children, away in Alabama, are always in my mind. 
 At first I thought I could not leave the little motherless 
 things, but then our boys were all coming, and mother said, 
 ' Go, Jack, the country must have men, and you must bear 
 your part, and I will take care of the children ;' and then I 
 went and 'listed, and when I went back home for my things, 
 and saw my children, I 'most died like. ' Mother,' says I, ' I 
 am going, and father must take my corn, my hogs, and 
 every thing else he likes, and keep my children ; but if I 
 never get back, I know it will be a mighty burden in your 
 old age ; but I know you will do your best.' ' Jack,' says 
 she, ' I will do a mother's part by them; but you must not 
 talk that way. Why should you get killed more than an- 
 other ? Tou will get back, and then we shall be so happy. 
 God will take care of you, I know He will.' " He then took 
 a wallet from under his pillow, and took two locks of hair : 
 " This is Peter's, he is three years old; and this is Mary's, 
 she is a little more than one, and named after her mother, 
 and was just stepping about when I left home." At that 
 recollection, tears poured down his bronzed cheeks, and I 
 could not restrain my own. I looked at the warm-hearted 
 soldier, and felt that he was not the less brave for shedding 
 tears at the recollection of his dead wife, his motherless chil- 
 dren, and his brave old mother. I find that the best way 
 to nurse them, when they are not too sick to bear it, is to 
 talk to them of home. They then cease to feel to you as 
 a stranger, and finding that you take interest in their " short 
 
40 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 and simple annals," their natural reserve gives way, and 
 they at once feel themselves among friends. 
 
 July 19. — This day is perhaps the most anxious of my 
 life. It is believed that a battle is going on at or near 
 Manassas. Our large household is in a state of feverish 
 anxiety; but we cannot talk of it. Some sit still, and are 
 more quiet than usual; others are trying to employ them- 
 selves. N. is reading aloud, trying to interest herself and 
 others; but we are all alike anxious, which is betrayed by 
 the restless eye and sad countenance. Yesterday evening 
 we were startled by the sound of myriads of horses, wheels, 
 and men on the turnpike. We soon found the whole of 
 General Johnston's army was passing by, on its way to join 
 Beauregard, below the mountain. A note from J. M. Gr., 
 written with a pencil at the Longwood gate, was soon 
 brought in, to say that they would halt at Millwood. The 
 carriages were soon ready, and as many of the family as 
 could go went to Millwood to meet them. I gave up my 
 seat to another, for I felt too sad to meet with those dear 
 
 boys marching on to such danger. Mr. and the girls 
 
 went. They saw my nephews, R. C. W. and B. B., and 
 others who were very dear to us. They report them all as 
 in fine spirits. The people all along the road, and in the 
 village of Millwood, went out to meet them with refresh- 
 ments. While halting at Millwood, General Johnston an- 
 nounced to them that General Beauregard had been successful 
 in a fight the day before, near Manassas, and that another 
 fight was hourly pending. The troops became wild with 
 excitement. It is said that General Patterson has gone to 
 join McDowell. I trust that General Johnston may get 
 there in time. They were passing here from about four in 
 the afternoon until a late hour in the night. After mid- 
 
july, 1861. 41 
 
 night the heavy army wagons were lumbering by, and 
 we ever and anon heard the tap of the drum. We 
 did not retire until all was still, and then none of us 
 slept. 
 
 July 20. — K. P. arrived to-night from Norfolk. He 
 passed Manassas yesterday, and saw J. very busy with the 
 wounded. The fight of the 18th quite severe; the enemy 
 were very decidedly repulsed; but another battle is immi- 
 nent. We were shocked by the death of Major C. Harrison. 
 J. wrote to his father. He fears to-morrow may be 
 a bloody Sabbath. Oh, that Providence would now inter- 
 pose and prevent further bloodshed! Oh, that strength may 
 be given to our men. Let not the enemy overcome them. 
 Oh, God of Nations! have mercy on the South! 
 
 The fight on Thursday lasted several hours; our loss was 
 fifteen killed, about forty wounded; in all about eighty to 
 eighty-five missing. It is believed that at least 900 of the 
 enemy were left on the field; 150 of their slightly wounded 
 have been sent to Richmond as prisoners. Their severely 
 wounded are in the hands of our surgeons at Manassas. 
 
 Sunday, 21. — We were at church this morning and heard 
 Bishop Meade, on the subject of "Praise." He and his 
 whole congregation greatly excited. Perhaps there was no 
 one present who had not some near relative at Manassas, 
 and the impression was universal that they were then fight- 
 ing. This suspense is fearful; but we must possess our 
 souls in patience. 
 
 Monday. — We can hear nothing from Manassas at all 
 reliable. Men are passing through the neighbourhood giv- 
 ing contradictory reports. They are evidently deserters. 
 They only concur in one statement — that there was a bat- 
 tle yesterday. 
 
42 DIAEY OF A SOTJTHEEJST REFUGEE. 
 
 Tuesday.— The victory is ours ! The enemy was routed 
 The Lord be praised for this great mercy. 
 
 Evening. — Mr. and myself have just returned froi 
 
 a neighbouring house where we heard the dread particular 
 of the battle. We saw a gentleman just from the battle 
 field, who brought off his wounded son. It is said to hav 
 been one of the most remarkable victories on record, whe 
 we consider the disparity in numbers, equipments, etc. On 
 loss, when compared with that of the enemy, was small, ver 
 small ; but such men as have fallen ! How can I recor 
 the death of our young friends, the Conrads of Martinsbur° 
 the only sons of their father, and such sons ! Never ca 
 we cease to regret Tucker Conrad, the bright, joyous yout' 
 of the " High School," and the devoted divinity studen 
 of our Theological Seminary ! Noble in mind and spirit 
 with the most genial temper and kindest manners I hav 
 
 ever known. Mr. saw him on Thursday evening 01 
 
 his way to the battle-field, and remarked afterwards on hi 
 enthusiasm and zeal in the cause. Holmes, his brother, wa 
 not one of us, as Tucker was, but he was in no respect ic 
 ferior to him — loved and admired by all. They were nea 
 the same age, and there was not fifteen minutes betweei 
 their deaths. Lovely and pleasant in their lives, in thei 
 deaths they were not divided. But my thoughts constantly 
 revert to that desolated home — to the parents and sister 
 who perhaps are now listening and waiting for letters fron 
 the battle-field. Before this night is over, loving friend 
 will bear their dead sons home. An express has gone fron 
 Winchester to tell them all. They might with truth ex 
 claim, with one of old, whose son was thus slain, "I wouli 
 not give my dead son for any living son in Christendom; 
 But that devoted father, and fond mother, have better am 
 
july, 1861. 43 
 
 higher sources of comfort than any which earthly praise can 
 give ! Their sons were Christians, and their ransomed 
 spirits were wafted from the clash and storm of the battle- 
 field to those peaceful joys, " of which it has not entered 
 into the heart of man to conceive." I have not heard which 
 was there to welcome his brother to his home in the skies ; 
 but both were there to receive the spirit of another, who 
 was to them as a brother. I allude to Mr. Peyton Harri- 
 son, a gifted young lawyer of the same village. He was 
 lieutenant of their company, and their mother's nephew, and 
 fell a few moments after the last brother. He left a young 
 wife and little children to grieve, to faint, and almost to die, 
 for the loss of a husband and father, so devoted, so accom- 
 plished, so brave. Like his young cousins, he was a Chris- 
 tian; and is now with them rejoicing in his rest. Martins- 
 burg has lost one other of her brave sons ; and yet another 
 is fearfully wounded. I thank God, those of my own 
 household and family, as far as I can hear, have escaped, 
 except that one has a slight wound. 
 
 We certainly routed the enemy, and already wonderful 
 stories are told of the pursuit. We shall hear all from 
 time to time. It is enough for us now to know that their 
 great expectations are disappointed, and that we have 
 gloriously gained our point. Oh, that they would now 
 consent to leave our soil, and return to their own homes ! 
 If I know my own heart, I do not desire vengeance upon 
 them, but only that they would leave us in peace, to be 
 forever and forever a separate people. It is true that we 
 have slaughtered them, and whipped them, and driven 
 them from our land, but they are people of such in- 
 domitable perseverance, that I am afraid that they will 
 come again, perhaps in greater force. The final result I 
 
4:4: DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 do not fear ; but I do dread the butchery of our you 
 men. 
 
 ''Mountain View," July 29. — Mr. and mys 
 
 came over here on Friday, to spend a few days with t 
 Bishop and bis family. He delivered a delightful addn 
 yesterday iu the church, on the thankfulness and praise d 
 to Almighty God, for (considering the circumstances) c 
 unprecedented victory at Manassas. Our President a 
 Congress requested that thanks should be returned in all 
 our churches. All rejoice for the country, though there a 
 many bleeding hearts in our land. Among our acquaii 
 ances, Mr. Charles Powell, of Winchester, Col. Edmu: 
 Fontaine, of Hanover, and Mr. W. N. Page, of Lexic 
 ton, each lost a son; and our friend, Mr. Clay Ward, 
 Alexandria, also fell. The gallant Generals Bee and Bs 
 tow were not of our State, but of our cause, and we i 
 mourn their loss. Bach mail adds to the list of casualtif 
 The enemy admit their terrible disaster, and are busy i 
 quiring into causes. 
 
 This house has been a kind of hospital for the last mont 
 Several sick soldiers are here now, men of whom they kne 
 nothing except that they are soldiers of the Confederac 
 They have had measles, and are now recruiting for servic 
 One who left here two weeks ago, after having been cai 
 fully nursed, was killed at Manassas. The family seem 
 lament him as an old friend, though they never saw hi 
 until he came here from the Winchester hospital. Two so: 
 of this house were in the fight; and the Bishop had sever 
 other grandchildren engaged, one of whom, R. M., lost I 
 right arm. His grandfather has been to Winchester to Si 
 him, and is much gratified by the fortitude with which ] 
 bears his suffering. He says, " B. is a brave boy, and h 
 
july, 1861. 45 
 
 done his duty to his countiy, and I will try to do my duty 
 to him, and make up the loss of his arm to him, as far as 
 possible." It is delightful to be with Bishop Meade. There 
 is so much genuine hospitality and kindness in his manner 
 of entertaining, which we perhaps appreciate more highly 
 now than we ever did before. His simple, self-denying 
 habits are more conspicuous at home than anywhere else. 
 We sit a great deal in his study, where he loves to enter- 
 tain his friends. Nothing can be more simple than its 
 furniture and arrangements, but he gives you so cordial a 
 welcome to it, and is so agreeable, that you forget that the 
 chair on which you sit is not cushioned. He delights in 
 walking over the grounds with his friends, and as you stop 
 to admire a beautiful tree or shrub, he will give you the 
 history of it. Many of them he brought with him from 
 Europe; but whether native or foreign, each has its asso- 
 ciation. This he brought in his trunk when a mere scion, 
 from the tide-water section of Virginia ; that from the 
 "Eastern Shore;" another from the Alleghany mountains; 
 another still, from the Cattskill mountains. Here is the 
 oak of old England ; there the cedar of Lebanon ; there 
 the willow from St. Helena, raised from a slip which had 
 absolutely waved over the grave of Napoleon. Here is 
 another, and prettier willow, native of our own Virginia 
 soil. Then he points out his eight varieties of Arbor Vitas, 
 and the splendid yews, hemlocks, spruces, and firs of every 
 kind, which have attained an immense size. Our own forest 
 trees are by no means forgotten, and we find oaks, poplars, 
 elms, etc., without number. He tells me that he has more 
 than a hundred varieties of trees in his yard. His flowers, 
 too, are objects of great interest to him, particularly the old- 
 fashioned damask rose. But his grape-vines are now his 
 
46 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 pets. He understands the cultivation of them perfectly, 
 and I never saw them so luxuriant. It has been somewhat i 
 the fashion to call him stern, but I wish that those who call 
 him so could see him among his children, grandchildren, and 
 servants. Here he is indeed a patriarch. All are affection- 
 ately respectful, but none of them seem at all afraid of him. 
 The grandchildren are never so happy as when in "grand-j 
 papa's room ;" and the little coloured children frequently 
 come to the porch, where he spends a great deal of his" 
 time, to inquire after " old master's health," and to receive 
 bread and butter or fruit from his hands. 
 
 July 3Qth. — I have just been conversing with some young 
 soldiers, who joined in the dangers and glories of thes 
 battle-field. They corroborate what I had before heard of 
 the presence of Northern females. I would not mention it 
 before in my diary, because I did not wish to record auy 
 thing which I did not know to be true. But when I re-< 
 ceive the account from eye-witnesses whose veracity cannot 
 be doubted, I can only say, that I feel mortified that such' 
 was the case. They came, not as Florence Nightingales to 
 alleviate human suffering, but to witness and exult over it. 
 With the full assurance of the success of their army theyf 
 meant to pass over the mutilated limbs and mangled corpses 
 of ours, and to go on their way rejoicing to scenes of fes- 
 tivity in the halls of the vanquished, and to revel over the 
 blood of the slain, the groans of the dying, the wails of 
 the widow and the fatherless. But "Linden saw anothei 
 sight," and these very delicate, gentle, womanly ladiei 
 where were they ? Plying back to Washington, in confu- 
 sion and terror, pell-mell, in the wildest excitement. Andii 
 where were their brave and honourable escorts ? Plying, too; 
 not as protectors to their fair friends, but with self-prcser- 
 
July, 1861. 47 
 
 vation alone in view. All went helter-skelter — coaches, 
 cabriolets, barouches, buggies, flying over the roads, as 
 though all Fairfax were mad. 
 
 " Ah, Pear ! ah, frantic Fear 1 
 I see — I see thee near. 
 I know thy hurried step, thy haggard eye ! 
 Like thee, I start ; like thee, disordered fly 1 
 
 Each bush to their disordered imaginations contained a 
 savage Confederate. Cannon seemed thundering in the 
 summer breeze, and in each spark of the lightning-bug, 
 glinted and gleamed the sword and Bowie-knife of the 
 blood-thirsty Southerner. Among the captured articles 
 were ladies' dresses, jewels, and other gew-gaws, on their 
 way to Richmond to the grand ball promised to them on 
 their safe arrival. There were also fine wines, "West India 
 frnits, and almost everything else rich, or sweet, or intoxi- 
 cating, brought by the gay party, for a right royal pic-nic 
 on the field of blood. The wines and brandies came in well 
 for our wounded that night, and we thank God for the 
 superfluities of the wicked. 
 
 July 30. — News from home. Mr. McD., of the Theo- 
 logical Seminary, an Irish student, who was allowed to remain 
 there in peace, being a subject of Great Britain, has just 
 arrived at this house as a candidate for ordination. He 
 says that our house has been taken for a hospital, except 
 two or three rooms which are used as headquarters by an 
 officer. Bishop Johns' house is used as headquarters; and 
 the whole neighbourhood is one great barracks. The families 
 who remained, Mrs. B., the Misses H, and others, have 
 been sent to Alexandria, and their houses taken. Mr. J's 
 and Mr. C's sweet residences have been taken down to the 
 ground to give place to fortifications, which have been 
 
48 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 thrown up in every direction. Vaucluse, too, the seat of 
 such elegant hospitality, the refined and dearly-loved home 
 of the F. family, has been levelled to the earth, fortifications 
 thrown up across the lawn, the fine old trees felled, and the 
 whole grounds, once so embowered and shut out from public 
 gaze, now laid bare and open — Vaucluse no more ! There 
 seems no probability of our getting home, and if we cannot 
 go, what then ? What will become of our furniture, and 
 all our comforts, books, pictures, etc. ! But these things 
 are too sad to dwell on. 
 
 Mr. McD. gives an amusing account of the return of the 
 Northern troops on the night of the 21st, and during the 
 whole of the 22d. Such a wild, alarmed, dispirited set he 
 had never an idea of. He had seen them pass by thousands 
 and thousands, first on one road and then on the other, well 
 armed, well mounted, in every respect splendidly equipped, 
 only a few days before. As a Southern sympathizer, he 
 had trembled for us, and prayed for us, that we might not 
 be entirely destroyed. He and one or two others of similar 
 sentiments had prayed and talked together of our danger. 
 Then what was their surprise to see the hasty, disordered 
 return ! 
 
 August 1. — This whole neighbourhood is busy to-day, 
 loading a wagon with comforts for the hospital at Fairfax 
 Court-House. They send it down once a week, under the 
 care of a gentleman, who, being too old for the service, 
 does this for the sick and wounded. The hospitals at 
 Centreville and the Court-House are filled with those who 
 are too severely wounded to be taken to Richmond, Char- 
 lottesville, and the larger hospitals. They are supplied, to a 
 very great degree, by private contributions. It is beautiful 
 to see the self-denying efforts of these patriotic people. 
 
august, 1861. 49 
 
 Everybody sends contributions on the appointed day to 
 Millwood, where the wagon is filled to overflowing with gar- 
 ments, brandy, wine, nice bread, biscuit, sponge cake, butter, 
 fresh vegetables, fruit, etc. Being thoroughly packed, it 
 goes off for a journey of fifty miles. 
 
 The Bkiaks, August 10. — Nothing new from the army. 
 All seems quiet; no startling rumours within the past week. 
 The family somewhat scattered : M. P. has gone to the 
 " Hot Springs,'' J. to Capon Springs, both in quest of 
 health; E. P. and E. M. are at "Long Branch" (Mr. H. 
 N's) on a visit to a young friend. 
 
 J. P. has just called, having resigned his commission in 
 the United States Navy, and received one in the Con- 
 federate ; he is on his way to Richmond for orders. He 
 tells me that my dear W. B. P. has come in from Kentucky, 
 with the first Kentucky Regiment, which is stationed near 
 Centreville. It is right he should come; and I am glad he 
 has, though it is another source of painful anxiety to me. 
 
 \2th. — Still nothing from the army. We go on here 
 quietly and happily — as happily as the state of the country 
 will allow. The household peaceful and pleasant. The 
 ladies, all of us, collect in one room generally, and work, 
 while one reads some pleasant book. "We are mercifully 
 dealt with, and I hope we are grateful for such blessings. 
 
 The Northern papers tell us that General Patterson has 
 withdrawn from the Northern army. The reason thereof is 
 not mentioned ; but we shrewdly suspect that the powers 
 at Washington are not entirely satisfied that he was so 
 completely foiled by General Johnston. General Johnston 
 was fighting the battle of Manassas before General P. knew 
 that he had left the Valley. The rumour that he had gone 
 to join McDowell was unfounded. For many days there 
 
50 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 was no intercourse between the section occupied by the 
 Federal army and that occupied by ours ; pickets were 
 placed on every road, to prevent any one from passing 
 towards General P. Gentlemen who had come to Win- 
 chester and Berryville on business for a few hours, were not 
 allowed to return home for days. So how could the poor 
 man know what was going on ? We only fear that hia 
 place may be supplied by one more vigilant. General Scott, 
 too, has been almost superseded by General McClellau, who 
 seems just now to be the idol of the North. The Phila- 
 delphia papers give a glowing description of his reception 
 in that city. It was his luck, for it seems to me, with his 
 disciplined and large command, it required no skill to over- 
 come and kill the gallant General Garnett at Rich Moun- 
 tain. Por this he is feted and caressed, lionized and 
 heroized to the greatest degree. I only hope that, like 
 McDowell and Patterson, he may disappoint their expecta- 
 tions. 
 
 August 20. — We are rejoicing over a victory at Spring- 
 field, Missouri — General Lyon killed and his troops routed. 
 Our loss represented large. I have only seen the Northern 
 account. 
 
 No news from home, and nothing good from that quarter 
 anticipated. We are amdng dear, kind friends, and have 
 the home feeling which only such genuine and generous 
 hospitality can give; but it sometimes overpowers me, when 
 I allow myself to think of our uncertain future. 
 
 Norwood, near Berryville, August 26. — On a visit of 
 a few days to our relative, Dr. M. The people of this 
 neighbourhood occupied as they are in the one I left. All 
 hearts and hands seem open to our army. Four heavily 
 laden wagons have left Berryville within a few days, for the 
 
AUGUST, 1861. 51 
 
 hospitals below. We are all anxious about Western Vir- 
 ginia, of which we can hear so little. General Lee and 
 General Floyd are there, and if they can only have men and 
 ammunition enough we have nothing to fear. 
 
 The army in Fairfax seems quiet. Colonel Stuart, with 
 his cavalry, has driven the enemy back, and taken possession 
 of " Chestnut Hill " as head-quarters. There they are over- 
 looking Washington, Georgetown, and our neighbourhood, 
 all bristling with cannon, to prevent their nearer approach. 
 Some of those young men can almost point from the hills on 
 which they are encamped, to chimneys of their own firesides, 
 the portals of their own homes. The woods are cleared 
 away for miles ; even the yard trees are gone, leaving the 
 houses in bold relief, with nothing to shade, nothing to ob- 
 scure them. I do pity those who were obliged to stay in 
 Southern homes, with Southern hearts, surrounded by bitter 
 and suspicious enemies. My old friend Mrs. D.is sometimes 
 in their lines, sometimes in ours. When our men are near 
 her, they are fed from her table, and receive all manner of 
 kindness from her hands. Some of my nephews have been 
 invited to her table, and treated as her relations. When 
 they entered her house she advanced towards them with 
 outstretched hands. "You don't know me, but I knew 
 your mother, father, and all your relations ; and besides, I 
 am connected with you, and you must come to my house 
 while near me, as to that of an old friend." Nothing could 
 be more grateful to a soldier far away from home and 
 friends. But these were her bright moments. She has had 
 many trials while in the enemy's lines. Her husband and 
 grown son are in the Confederate service ; she has sent her 
 two young daughters to her friends in the lower country, 
 and has remained as the protector of her property, with her 
 
52 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 two sons of eight and ten, as her companions. On one oc- 
 casion her servant was driving the cows from her yard to 
 be milked ; from very loneliness she called to the servant to 
 remain and milk them where they were; the very tinkling 
 of the cow-bell was pleasant to her. It was scarcely done 
 when a posse of soldiers came with their bayonets gleaming 
 in the moonlight, and demanded, " Why did you have a bell 
 rung in your yard this evening ?" " Do you mean, why did 
 the cow-bell ring ? Because the cow shook her head while 
 she was being milked." " But you don't have the cows 
 milked in the yard every evening. It was a signal to the 
 rebels — you know it was — and your house shall be burnt for 
 it." She then had to plead her innocence to save her house, 
 which they pretended not to believe until the servants were 
 called up to prove her statements. They then, with 
 threats and curses, went off. Another night she carried a 
 candle from room to room to seek some missing article. In 
 a short time several soldiers were seen running to her house 
 with lighted torches, yelling "Burn it, burn it to the ground!" 
 She ran to the yard to know the cause ; instantly this lonely 
 woman was surrounded by a lawless, shouting soldiery, each 
 with a burning torch, revealing, by its lurid and fitful light, 
 a countenance almost demoniac. They seemed perfectly 
 lawless, and without a leader, for each screamed out, " We 
 are ordered to burn your house.'' "Why?" said she. 
 " Because you have signal-lights at your windows for the 
 
 d d rebels.'' She immediately suspected that no such 
 
 order had been given, and summoning firmness of voice and 
 manner to her aid, she ordered them off, saying that she 
 should send for an officer. They did go, uttering impreca- 
 tions on her defenceless head. But a still more trying scene 
 occurred a short time ago. Our soldiers were surrounding 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1861. 53 
 
 her Louse, when Colonel Stuart sent off a raiding party. 
 During that night the Yankees advanced, and our men re- 
 tired. The Yankees at once heard that the raiders were 
 out; but in what direction was the question. They came 
 up to her house, and knowing the mother too well to attempt 
 to extort any thing from her, ordered the little boys to tell 
 them in what direction Colonel Stuart had gone. The boys 
 told them that they could tell nothing. Threats followed; 
 finally handcuffs and irons for the ankles were brought. Still 
 those little heroes stood, the one as pale as ashes, the other 
 with his teeth clenched over his under lip, until the blood 
 was ready to gush out, but not one word could be extorted, 
 until, with a feeling of hopelessness in their efforts, they went 
 off, calling them cursed little rebels, etc. The mother saw 
 all this, and stood it unflinchingly — poor thing! It is har- 
 rowing to think of her sufferings. Yet, if she comes away, 
 her house will be sacked, and perhaps burnt. 
 
 We are sometimes alarmed by reports that the enemy 
 is advancing upon Winchester; but are enabled to possess 
 our souls in patience, and hope that all may be well. I see 
 that they are encroaching upon the Northern Neck. I trust 
 they may be repulsed from that fair land. 
 
 " The Bkiaes," Sept. 6. — We returned home, as we are 
 wont to call this sweet place, yesterday, and are just now 
 taken up with family matters of deep interest. The army in 
 Virginia seems quiet ; but our arms had a severe reverse on 
 Thursday. Fort Hatteras was bombarded and taken by 
 Federal vessels. They also secured many prisoners. 
 
 General Floyd, in Western Virginia, had a severe skirmish 
 with the enemy, about a week ago, and drove them off with 
 considerable loss. Our loss was small. 
 
 Sept. \%th. — Yesterday was the wedding of our dear . 
 
54 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 The marriage of a child is always melancholy when it in- 
 volves separation, but particularly so under such circum- 
 stances. But surely never were refugees so blessed with 
 friends. Our plan was to have the ceremony in the church, 
 and then to proceed to Winchester, where the bridal party 
 would take the stage for Strasburg, and thence by the cars 
 to Richmond; but we were overruled by Mr. P., who in- 
 vited his and our friends for the evening, and a beautiful 
 entertainment was prepared for them. We all exercised our 
 taste in arranging the table, which, with its ices, jellies, and 
 the usual etceteras of an elegant bridal supper, made us for- 
 get that we were in a blockaded country. A pyramid of 
 the most luscious grapes, from Bishop Meade's garden, 
 graced the centre of the table. The bridesmaids were three, 
 and groomsman one, and he, poor fellow, had to go off in 
 the storm of last night, because his furlough lasted but 
 forty-eight hours, and his station is Culpepper Court-House. 
 The groom had a furlough of but three days, to come from 
 and return to Richmond. The Bishop and Mrs. J. arrived 
 in the morning. The party consisted of ladies, and gentle- 
 men too old for the service. Bishop J. performed the cere- 
 mony. Bishop Meade professed to be too old for such 
 occasions, and declined coming. We feel very lonely this 
 morning, and turn to the newspapers more than we have 
 done for some time. 
 
 I saw a young soldier the other day, who told me he 
 could see the top of our house distinctly from " Munson's 
 Hill.'' Oh, that I could know what is going on within those 
 walls, all encompassed by armies as it is. With my mind's 
 eye I look into first one room and then another, with all 
 the associations of the past ; the old family Bible, the family 
 pictures, the library, containing the collection of forty years, 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1861. 55 
 
 and so many things which seemed a part of ourselves. What 
 will become of them ? Who are now using- or abusins: 
 them ? 
 
 Sept. 1 %th.— Just returned from Annfield, where we have 
 spent a charming day, with most delightful society. The 
 papers brought us news of success in the West, General 
 Floyd having overcome Rosecranz on Gauley River. This 
 gave us great satisfaction, as we are peculiarly anxious 
 about that part of Virginia. We passed the time in talk- 
 ing over the feats of our heroes, as well as in enjoying 
 the elegancies by which we were surrounded. 
 
 Sept. l&th. — I have been greatly interested in a letter, 
 which has been sent me, written by my nephew, Lt. W. B. 
 N., to his wife, the day after the battle of Manassas. I 
 copy it here because I want his little relations, for whom I 
 am writing this diary, to have a graphic description of the 
 fight, and to know what their family and friends suffered 
 for the great cause. 
 
 " Cbntretille, July 22, 1861. 
 
 " My dear . : — For the last four days we have never 
 
 been longer than two hours in auy one place, have slept 
 upon the ground in good weather and bad, eaten nothing 
 but crackers and fried bacon, and rest little at any time ; 
 for all of which privations and a thousand others we have 
 been more than compensated (thanks to the just God who 
 governs the councils of history and decrees the destiny of 
 nations) in the glorious results of yesterday. On the morn- 
 ing of the 11th, we had received reliable information that 
 the enemy was advancing, over 50,000 strong, and were not 
 surprised, at five o'clock in the morning, to hear the fire of 
 our pickets, who were slowly retiring before the advancing 
 
56 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 foe. The order was given to pack. In ten minutes bag- 
 gage was packed, tents struck, and the wagons driven to 
 the rear; and the whole command forward to line of battle. 
 In a few minutes the glittering bayonets of the enemy lined 
 the neighbouring hills. From the heavy signal-guns being 
 fired at intervals along our line — commencing at German- 
 town and stretching along to Fairfax Court-House — it wae 
 evident that the enemy was endeavouring to surround our 
 little band ; but our " Little Trump," as the men call 
 Beauregard, was not to be taken by any such game. Every 
 preparation was made to deceive the enemy, by inducing 
 him to believe that we meditated a vigorous resistance. 
 Meantime our column defiled through a densely wooded 
 road, and was far on the way to Centreville when the enemy 
 discovered his mistake. He followed on very cautiously. 
 To our troop, with Kemper's Battery, was assigned th'e 
 post of honour, and charged with the duty of covering the 
 retreat. We were the last to leave the village, and as we 
 went out at one end of the street, his column appeared at 
 the other. We halted at this place about four o'clock in 
 the afternoon, and again made show of -battle — slept until 
 twelve o'clock at the heads of our horses. We silently left 
 the place, the enemy's pickets being within hailing distance 
 of our own. At daybreak we were across Bull Run, having 
 marched very slowly to keep pace with the infantry. We 
 found beds of leaves in the woods, wrapped ourselves in our 
 blankets, and slept for an hour or two, until we were aroused 
 by the roar of the enemy's guns as he opened his batteries 
 upon our lines. For two mortal hours shot and shell flew 
 thick along our whole line. This day's work was evidently 
 intended only to draw the fire of our aniliery, and show 
 where our batteries were, in consequence of which our 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1861. 57 
 
 gunners were ordered not to fire a single shot, unless within 
 point-blank range. After thus opening the ball, two dense 
 masses of infantry were sent to defile to the right and left, 
 to make two separate attacks. It was indeed a beautiful 
 sight as they came down in perfect order, and with the 
 stealthy step of veterans. They came nearer and yet 
 nearer, and yet no shot from our guns. Our men began to 
 mutter, and say that we were preparing for another retreat. 
 But in a few moments the appointed time arrived. A single 
 shot from the Washington Artillery gave the signal of 
 death, and for half an hour there was nothing but a con- 
 tinuous sheet of flame along the right of our lines. The 
 enemy fell back, rallied, and charged again, with a like 
 result. Again they rested, and rushed forward, but old 
 Virginia was true to herself, and the gallant Seventeenth 
 and Eighteenth Regiments charged them with the bayonet, 
 and drove them back in utter confusion. The cavalry were 
 held in reserve, and although within range of the artillery, 
 and constantly experiencing the sensation which men may 
 be supposed to indulge, who know there is a hidden danger 
 hovering in the air, without knowing where it is to light, 
 took no part in the action. Our time came yesterday, how- 
 ever. Our troop was for four hours in the hottest of the 
 fight, and every man in it won the applause and approbation 
 of the whole camp. The action commenced at eight o'clock 
 on the sweet Sabbath morning. The enemy commenced 
 with quite a heavy cannonade upon our right, which proved 
 to be a mere feint, to distract our attention, as his main 
 attack was directed to our left wing. At ten o'clock the 
 enemy had crossed the river on our left, and then the fight- 
 ing commenced in earnest. From the hill on which we 
 stood, we could see, from the smoke and dust, though at 
 3* 
 
58 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 the distance of several miles, how the fight was waging on 
 onr left. Some thought the enemy was retreating; others 
 that our men had fallen back. It was an hour of painful 
 interest. At eleven o'clock an aid-de-camp rode up in a 
 gallop, and said our men were retiring — the cavalry was 
 ordered to the left. We were temporarily attached to Rad- 
 ford's regiment — ours was the first company, and mine was 
 the first platoon. On we dashed in a gallop, and as we 
 passed within range of a battery of rifled cannon a ball 
 was fired at us which passed between Wickham and myself, 
 knocking up a cloud of dust. "Without wavering in their 
 ranks, the men and horses dashed forward at a gallop. As 
 we reached the scene of action the sight was discouraging 
 in the extreme. The enemy had at first the advantage of 
 every attacking party. He had concentrated his forces for 
 an attack upon one point. The First Louisiana Regiment 
 and the Fourth Alabama, attacked in flank and centre by 
 30,000 men, were literally cut to pieces. They refused to 
 surrender, but retired slowly, disputing every inch of ground. 
 As we rode up we could meet parts of companies which had 
 been utterly overwhelmed — the men wounded, their arms 
 broken, while some of them were carrying off their dead in 
 blankets. Every thing looked like retreat. We were or- 
 dered up to within five hundred yards of the enemy's artil- 
 lery, behind a hill which afforded some protection against 
 their destructive fire. For one hour the fire raged with 
 incessant fury. A ball passed over the hill and through our 
 ranks, grazing one of our men. A shell exploded just 
 under Radford's horse, and every minute shot and shell 
 were continually whistling by us. I can give you no con- 
 ception of that awful hour. Not a man shrank from his 
 post. Two of our men were taken exceedingly sick, one 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1861. 59 
 
 fainting from the heat and excitement. Such calmness and 
 composure I never witnessed. To make the matter worse, 
 despondency, if not despair, was fast writing itself upon 
 every face. The fire was evidently approaching us. Our 
 friends were retiring, and the whispered rumour passed from 
 lip to lip that our artillery ammunition was running low. 
 In a moment, however, a cloud of dust in our rear showed 
 the approach of our wagons, coming up at a dashing rate, 
 with a fresh supply. Our reinforcements now commenced 
 pouring in. Georgia, South Carolina, Alabama, Mississippi, 
 and Tennessee swept by in their glittering array with the 
 calm light of battle on their faces, and their bayonets gleam- 
 ing in the quiet Sabbath sunshine. No man faltered, no 
 man lagged behind. Neither the groans of the dying nor 
 the shrieks of the wounded, as they passed by in crowded 
 ambulances, seemed to produce any impression except to 
 fix the determination upon the countenances of all, to win 
 or to die upon the field. The tide now seemed to ebb, just 
 enough to keep us from despair. The firing did not advance, 
 although the explosion of their shells was terrific in the 
 extreme. A gleam of hope, too, gradually broke in upon 
 us, when Kemper's Battery, which had been posted in our 
 centre, galloped up and opened a destructive fire upon our 
 extreme left. The advance was evidently checked, when 
 a loud cheer in the front told us that something unusual 
 had happened. What was it 1 Was it the triumph of our 
 enemies over our poor stricken friends ; or was it some 
 advantage gained by courage in defence of right? The 
 suspense was awful. Men stood straight in their stirrups 
 and stretched their eyes as if they could pierce the rugged 
 bosom of the barren hill which raised its scarred front 
 between them. An aid passed up. His message is written 
 
60 DIARY OP A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 on his face, and before lie speaks a word a wild shout 
 breaks from the throats of thousands. When he speaks, 
 another, another and another round of cheers told the 
 story to our hitherto sinking hearts. The Fourth Virginia 
 Regiment had taken Sprague's Rhode Island Battery of 
 six pieces, at the point of the bayonet. Scarcely had the 
 echo of our cheers died away when again the noise of shout- 
 ing broke upon the air. What was it ? Had the enemy 
 rallied and retaken the guns ? Fear struggled with hope. 
 But no: the gallant Twenty-seventh, envious of the glorious 
 achievement of the Fourth, at a single dash had charged a 
 regiment of regulars, swept them from the field, and taken 
 every gun in Sherman's Battery. \_See note at end of Book.] 
 The firing of musketry and the rattling of bayonets was 
 now terrible beyond description. For one hour there was 
 an incessant cracking of rifles, without a single moment's 
 pause. The enemy were evidently retiring, and unless 
 reinforced from the left and centre, the day was ours. 
 
 " To prevent this, our field telegraph had already given 
 the signal for movement upon our own right, and a heavy 
 fire of musketry and artillery told us that Bonham's Brigade, 
 to which we had been attached in the morning, had crossed 
 the run and were pouring it into the enemy's centre. The 
 South Carolina boys dashed up the hill in face of a murder- 
 ous fire, bayoneted their gunners, and took quiet possession 
 of their central battery. It was three o'clock, and the day 
 was ours. The Washington Artfllery galloped up the hill 
 on which we were posted, and opened a perfect Vesuvius of 
 shot and shell upon the receding foe. Colonel Lay then 
 rode up and told us that the time for us to act had arrived. 
 Our whole body of cavalry, 2,700 strong, now rushed like 
 the wind to the front. It was indeed a brilliant spectacle, as, 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1861. 61 
 
 with slackened rein and sabres drawn, the whole command 
 dashed past. The whole line resounded with continued 
 cheering. The force was divided into different detachments. 
 Colonel Radford, with six companies, was ordered to cross 
 a short distance below the enemy's extreme right, and inter- 
 cept his column. Our company was in front, and I was 
 riding in front of my platoon, when, after crossing the 
 swamp, we came suddenly on a detachment of the enemy 
 concealed in the bushes, with their pieces levelled. The 
 Colonel ordered the charge, and our boys rushed on. Poor 
 E. F. was at my side when we rode over two of them, .and 
 they grounded their arms to E. W., who was just in our 
 rear. We galloped on in pursuit of the rest, who retreated 
 across a field, towards the road on which the enemy was re- 
 treating. Fontaine was just behind me. Saunders, a fine 
 young fellow, just twenty-four years of age, and splendidly 
 mounted, dashed by us. The enemy had concealed them- 
 selves behind a fence ; we rode up, and I demanded- their 
 surrender ; they made no reply. I ordered Saunders to fire; 
 before he levelled his carbine the whole squad poured in a 
 volley. Saunders fell dead at my feet, and Edmund Fon- 
 taine reeled in his saddle, exclaiming, " Save me, boys ; I 
 am killed 1" He was caught in the arms of his corisin, who 
 was just in my rear. Three of my platoon fired, and the 
 two who had shot Fontaine and Saunders fell dead in their 
 tracks. We were now in full view of the enemy's columns, 
 passing in rapid and disorderly retreat along the road, with 
 two pieces of artillery, a large number of baggage-wagons, 
 and some officers' carriages. Colonel Radford, who is a 
 soldier of experience, knew the strength of the enemy and 
 ordered a halt, commanding the men to form. But such a 
 thing was utterly impossible. The men seemed perfectly 
 
62 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 delirious with excitement, and with a wild shout of, " The 
 guns, the guns !" our whole company rushed pell-mell upon 
 the battery, which proved to be another detachment of the 
 Rhode Island Artillery. Such a scene of wild excitement I 
 never witnessed. My platoon had been detached from the 
 company, and the company from the regiment. There were 
 two caissons and two guns ; the guns behind the caissons. 
 My platoon, which was furthest down the road, rushed upon 
 the men who guarded them. One fellow was standing on 
 the caisson, whipping the horses to make them run; they had 
 become so much alarmed that they stood perfectly still, and 
 trembled. I made a blow at him with my sabre, knocked 
 him off the caisson, and he was shot twice before he reached 
 the ground. Meantime W. (who behaved admirably), with 
 the main body, crossed the road higher up, and when the 
 main body of the regiment came up, our company, with 
 some of the Alexandria cavalry, had killed and wounded 
 every man at the guns, and driven the infantry supports in 
 rapid retreat. When we left we expected to be supported 
 by infantry and artillery, and you may imagine our astonish- 
 ment when, with not quite 300 men, we found that we had 
 nearly cut into the enemy's column, and upon looking one 
 hundred yards down the road, we found them preparing to - 
 open on us with two guns supported by six regiments of in- 
 fantry. The Colonel at once ordered a retreat, so we shot the 
 horses to the caissons, so as to block up the road, and re- 
 treated, not, however, before they had poured in upon us four 
 rounds of grape and canister at one hundred and fifty yards' 
 distance. How we escaped a perfect massacre I cannot say. 
 Had they not been so close to us the slaughter would have 
 been terrible. Four of our men were killed. Captain Rad- 
 ford, brother of the Colonel, was literally blown to pieces. 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1861. 63 
 
 I escaped without a scratch, (as did all the rest of the officers,) 
 excepting quite a severe bruise caused by my horse having 
 pressed my leg against the wheel to the gun-carriage. We 
 brought off several prisoners, a great many pistols, and several 
 horses. Just ahead of the guns was a very handsome 
 open carriage. As soon as they saw us, such a rush ! It 
 is suspected, or rather hoped, that Wilson, of Massachusetts, 
 (who was, it is known, on the field,) was ia it. One of our 
 men, Linkey by name, took it into his head that General 
 Scott was in it, pursued and overtook it, but at the distance 
 of thirty steps fired his musketine, with eighteen buck-shot, 
 right into the back window. 
 
 " As we returned, a melancholy mistake occurred. Bowles, 
 our second lieutenant, who was carrying poor Fontaine to 
 the hospital, with one or two others, met a detachment of 
 four of the Appomattox cavalry, who hailed him. It is said 
 that, instead of giving the signal agreed upon in our camp, 
 by raising the hand to the top of the head, he took them 
 for the enemy, and answered " Federal troops." They fired 
 and he fell dead. Our company received, upon its return, 
 the congratulations of every officer on General Bonham's 
 staff, to whom Colonel R. had spoken of the conduct of our 
 meD. To-day it has been raining incessantly. Our col- 
 umn pushed on this morning to this place. Our company 
 was assigned the advance-guard, and this morning at ten 
 o'clock, I had the honor of occupying the city of Gentre- 
 ville. The citizens tell us that about twelve o'clock last 
 night the cry passed through the camp that the "Virginia 
 horsemen were upon them, when they left in wild confusion. 
 Our triumph has been complete. In two days our noble 
 army has driven them back to Alexandria, captured forty- 
 two guns, many colors, and how mt*ny prisoners I will not 
 
64 MARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 venture to say. After we reached this place, we were 
 ordered to explore the surrounding country in quest of fugi- 
 tives. We took eighteen prisoners, and got back just at 
 night, very wet. You never saw such a collection of prop- 
 erty as was left in their flight. Hundreds of muskets, gun- 
 carriages, wagon horses ; thousands of knapsacks, oil-cloths 
 and blankets, hogsheads of sugar, barrels of pork, beans, 
 etc. ; in short, every thing you can conceive. We found 
 to-day over five hundred splendid army overcoats. 
 
 "The men are amusing themselves to-night reading letters, 
 of which there were thousands left on the field. Some of 
 them were directed to Mr. So-and-So, expected at Manassas 
 Junction. Some asked for a piece of the floor of the house 
 in which Ellsworth was killed, with blood on it; while others 
 confidently express the belief that Beauregard's scalp was 
 to be carried to Washington. When I tell you that we 
 supped to-night on Yankee crackers, Yankee coffee, and a 
 nice beef-tongue, actually left on the hearth of one of the 
 officers' quarters, in a kettle, ready to be s^t on the fire — 
 that this is written with a Yankee pencil, given me by 
 one of the men, and on Yankee paper, taken from their 
 wagons, and that I am sitting on a Yankee camp-stool, and 
 ■writing by a Yankee candle, you can form some idea of the 
 utter rout. I have a pincushion for L., picked up on the 
 field, a needle-case for K., and a sword taken from a Ver- 
 mont volunteer, for W. Our troops occupy Fairfax Court- 
 House to-day. I will try and see you soon. Good-night. 
 God bless and protect you. I feel that he has protected 
 me in the last few days, in answer to the prayers of a pious 
 wife. I hope that I feel grateful for my preservation." 
 
 "Mountain View," September 22. — Came down here 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1861. 65 
 
 with Mr. , a few days ago. Spent this day not quite 
 
 so profitably as I desired. The ride to the "old chapel," 
 where we had service, is so long, that we spent a great deal 
 of time upon the road. Bishop Meade delivered a most inter- 
 esting address. He mentioned with great feeling the death 
 of Mr. John A. Washington, of Mount Yernon, who fell at 
 " Cheat Mountain " a few days ago, while, with some other 
 officers, he was observing the movements of Rosecranz. 
 It is heart-rending to hear of the number of valuable lives 
 which are lost in this cruel war. 
 
 25th. — The last two days spent with pleasant friends- 
 one day with Miss M. M., and the other with my old 
 acquaintance, Mrs. Dr. P., of the " White Post." These 
 ladies, like all others, are busy for the soldiers. To-day I 
 received a copy of " Headley Vicars," abridged for the camp, 
 by my friend J. J. Mr. M. will take it to-morrow to the 
 camp, when he goes with the wagon. To-day we have been 
 helping the Bishop to pack a barrel of grapes, and another 
 with tomatoes and other fresh vegetables; and yet another 
 Mrs. M. has packed with bread, biscuit, and a variety of 
 things for the sick. 
 
 "The Briars," October 2d. — We returned yesterday, 
 everybody anxious and apprehensive. Battles seem to be 
 imminent, both in Western Virginia and on the Potomac. 
 Constant skirmishing reported in both places. 
 
 General Price, it is said, has taken Lexington, Missouri, 
 with a large number of prisoners. Our army in Fairfax has 
 fallen back from "Munson's Hill" to the Court-House ; 
 thus leaving our dear homes more deeply buried in the 
 shades of Tankeeism than ever. There are many refu- 
 gees in this neighbourhood, like ourselves, wandering and 
 waiting. Mrs. General Lee has been staying at Anufield, 
 
C6 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 and at Media, sick, and without a home. All Virginia 
 has open doors for the family of General Lee; but in her 
 state of health, how dreadful it is to have no certain 
 abiding place. She is very cheerful, and showed me the 
 other day a picture of "Arlington," in a number of Har- 
 pers' Magazine, which had mistaken its way and strayed 
 to Dixie. She thought the representation good, as it cer- 
 tainly is of what Arlington was ; but it is said that those 
 fine trees are living trees no more — all felled to make 
 room for the everlasting fortifications. She clings to the 
 hope of getting back to it; but I begin to feel that we may 
 all hang our harps upon the willows; and though we do not 
 sit by the waters of a strange land, but among our whole- 
 souled friends in our own Virginia, yet our " vine and fig- 
 tree " is wanting. Home and its surroundings must ever 
 be our chief joy, and while shut out from it and its many 
 objects of interest, there will be a feeling of desolation. 
 The number of refugees increases fearfully as our army falls 
 back; for though many persons, still surrounded .by all the 
 comforts of home, ask why they do not stay, and protect 
 their property, my only answer is, " How can they ?" 
 In many instances defenceless women and children are left 
 without the means of subsistence; their crops destroyed; 
 their business suspended; their servants gone; their horses 
 and other stock taken off; their houses liable at any hour 
 of the day or night to be entered and desecrated by a 
 lawless soldiery. How can they remain without even the 
 present means of support, and nothing in prospect ? The 
 enemy will dole them out rations, it is said, if they will 
 take the oath I But who so base as to do that ? Can 
 a Southern woman sell her birthright for a mess of pot- 
 tage ? "Would she not be unworthy of the husband, the 
 
OCTOBER, 1861. 67 
 
 son, the brother who is now offering himself a willing sacrifice 
 on the altar of his country 1 And our old men, the hoary- 
 headed fathers of heroic sons, can they bear the insults, the 
 taunts of an invading army ? Can they see the spot of 
 earth which they have perhaps inherited from their fathers 
 covered with the tents of the enemy; their houses used as 
 head-quarters by officers, while they and their families are 
 forced into the poorest accommodations ; ancestral trees 
 laid low, to make room for fortifications, thrown across 
 their grounds, from which cannon will point to the very 
 heart of their loved South ? How can the venerable 
 gentlemen of the land stay at home and bear such things ? 
 No — let them come out, and in some way help the Con- 
 federacy. Our new government will want officers, and 
 the old men had better fill them, and leave the young 
 ones free to swell the army. But I will no longer in- 
 dulge in this strain; it makes me sad, and it is my duty 
 to give at least the meed of cheerfulness to our kind 
 friends; in truth, we have a right cheerful household. It 
 would be amusing to an observer to see us on mail days. 
 The papers are read aloud, from " Terms" to "finis," by N., 
 who, being a good reader, and having the powers of endur- 
 ance to a great degree, goes on untiringly, notwithstand- 
 ing the running commentaries kept up throughout from 
 many voices. 
 
 October 5.— M. P. and myself drove to Millwood yester- 
 day, and heard various rumours of victories in Western 
 Virginia, and in Missouri ; but we are afraid to believe 
 them. At home we go on as usual. 
 
 October 8. — At church yesterday; the services interest- 
 ing; the Communion administered. Rev. Dr. A. delivered 
 an address, perhaps a little too political for the occasion. 
 
6S DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 The news from Western Yirginia not confirmed. Another 
 rumour of a fight on Cheat Mountain, iu which General 
 Jackson, with some regiments of Georgians, repulsed the 
 Federal General Reynolds. 
 
 llth. — Every thing apparently quiet, and we, in the 
 absence of bad news, are surrounded by a most peaceful 
 and pleasant atmosphere. Our communication with the 
 outer world cut off by the freshet in the Shenandoah, so 
 
 that we had no mail yesterday. Mr. has gone to 
 
 Richmond on business. He wrote from Culpeper Court- 
 House, at which place he stopped to see J., a most pleasing 
 account of the hospitals, and the care taken of the sick. 
 
 12th. — M. P. and myself drove to Millwood for the 
 mail, and then made an agreeable visit to Mr. and Mrs. J. 
 We found several letters from family and friends ; one? v ' eT " 
 my sister, Mrs. C, who with her whole family (except Kel- 
 sons,) married daughters and single, are about to rent the 
 Presbyterian Parsonage, in Hanover, and keep house. As 
 they are all refugees, and have the means, it is a most 
 pleasant idea. The Rev. Mr. H., who was the occupant of 
 the house, has gone to the army as captain of a company 
 which he raised for the purpose. 
 
 The papers mentioned the capture of a vessel called 
 " The Fanny," on the coast of North Carolina, laden with 
 blankets, greatcoats, arms and ammunition. A most valu- 
 able prize. 
 
 October 16. — We had a pleasant evening. While N. 
 read the papers we were knitting for the soldiers. An 
 account is given of some small successes. Our men, near 
 Pensacola, have broken up the camp of "Billy Wilson's 
 Zouaves," of which we have heard so much ; and Captain 
 Hollins of the navy has broken the blockade at New 
 
OCTOBER, 1861. 69 
 
 Orleans, sunk the " Vincennes," and captured a sloop, 
 without the least damage to himself and men. Rosecranz 
 has retreated before our men at Big Sewell Mountain. For 
 1 these things we desire to be truly grateful, without rejoicing 
 in the misfortunes of our enemies, except as they tend to 
 the welfare of our invaded and abused couutry. 
 
 Sunday Night. — To-day went to church, and heard an 
 admirable sermon from Mr. J. As we returned, we called 
 at the post-office, and received a newspaper from Dr. Drane, 
 of Tennessee, in which is recorded the death of his son 
 James. He belonged to the army in Western Virginia, 
 and died there of typhoid ferer. He was one of the late 
 pupils of the E. H. S., a most amiable, gentlemanly youth ; 
 and it seems but as yesterday that I saw him, light-hearted 
 and buoyant, among his young companions. He is con- 
 stantly before my mind's eye. His parents and young 
 sister — how my heart bleeds for them ! Our poor boys i 
 What may not each battle bring forth ? Scarcely a bat- 
 talion of the army, in any part of the Confederacy, where 
 they are not. 
 
 Thursday, 2ith. — An account reached us to-day of a 
 severe fight last Monday (21st), at Leesburg — a Manassas 
 fight in a small way. The Federals, under General Stone, 
 came in large force to the river; they crossed in the morning 
 8,000 or 10,000 strong, under command of Colonel Baker, 
 late Senator from Oregon. They came with all the pomp and 
 circumstance of glorious war, and rushed on as if to certain 
 victory over our small force. " But when the sun set, where 
 were they V They were flying back to Maryland, that her 
 hills might hide and her rocks shelter them. They crowded 
 into their boats, on their rafts ; multitudes plunged into the 
 water and swam over; any thing, any way, that would bear 
 
70 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 them from " old "Virginia's .shore." Our men were in hot 
 pursuit, firing upon them incessantly, until the blue waters 
 of the Potomac ran red with blood. It was a "famous 
 victory," as old Caspar would say, and I am thankful 
 enough for it; for if they come to kill us, we must kill or 
 drive them back. But it is dreadful to think of the dead 
 and the dying, the widows and the orphans. Mr. William 
 Randolph, who brought us this account, says there were be-. 
 tween five and six hundred prisoners, a number of wounded, 
 and 400 killed and drowned — among them Colonel Baker 
 killed. They had no business here on such an errand ; but 
 who, with a human heart, does not feel a pang at the 
 thought that each one had somebody to grieve for him— 
 somebody who will look long for the return of each one of 
 the four hundred ! The account goes on to state with exul- 
 tation, that we lost but twenty-seven killed. There are but 
 twenty -seven bereaved households in the length and breadth 
 of this Confederacy from this one fight — a great disparity, 
 and very few considering the violence of the fight ; but it is 
 difficult to think with composure of the lacerated hearts in 
 those twenty-seven homes ! 
 
 Tuesday, 29tt. — A little reverse to record this morning. 
 It is said that Colonel McDonald's cavalry made an unfor- 
 tunate retreat from Ronmey the other day, as the enemy 
 approached. It may have been wise, as the enemy out- 
 numbered us greatly. 
 
 Mr. and myself have just returned from a delightful 
 
 walk to Pagebrook. We were talking of our future, about 
 which he will not allow me to despond. The Lord will 
 provide, he says, and begins at once to count up our mercies^ 
 We constantly hear that our children and near relatives are 
 well— none of them have been wounded, all mercifully 
 
NOVEMBER, 1861. 71 
 
 spared ; so that we would be ungrateful indeed to en- 
 courage or allow a feeling of despondency. 
 
 Wednesday. — Captain and Mrs. W. N. dined with us 
 to-day. It was gratifying to see him look so well, after the 
 intense suffering through which he has passed. He was 
 borne from the field of Manassas, with what seemed to be a 
 mortal wound ; a ball had passed through his body. But, 
 thanks to a merciful Providence, good nursing and surgery 
 have saved his valuable life. We are now planning to go 
 to the lower country, but when and where we do not 
 know. 
 
 November 3d. — To-day we were at church, and heard a 
 good sermon from the Rev. Mr. Walker, of Alexandria — a 
 refugee in pursuit of an abiding-place. 
 
 An immense Federal fleet left Hampton Roads a few 
 days ago, for what point destined we do not know. Oh, 
 that it may find its resting-place in the bottom of the ocean ! 
 The terrific storm yesterday gave us comfort. The mighty 
 rushing of the winds was music to our ears. We thought 
 of the Spanish Armada, thanked God and took courage. 
 Was this wicked ? I think not. They must lose their lives, 
 or we must lose ours; and if it will please the Almighty 
 Ruler of the wind and waves to use them in our defence, 
 we shall be most grateful. 
 
 6th. — Mr. gone to the prayer-meeting at Millwood, 
 
 accompanied by Mr. ; both will cast their votes for 
 
 Mr. Davis to be President of these Confederate States for 
 the next six years. We yesterday dined at " Mountain 
 View," with the Rev. Mr. Walker and family. He has been 
 called to South Carolina to be professor in the Episcopal 
 Theological Seminary of that State. He will go, as there is 
 no hope of his getting back to Alexandria during the war. 
 
72 DIAET OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 Nothing from the " Fleet." 
 
 November 9. — Our hearts cheered by news from the 
 fleet. A part of it stranded — one vessel on the coast of 
 North Carolina, from which seventy prisoners have been 
 taken ; others on the coast of South Carolina. Unfortu- 
 nately, a part is safe, and is attacking Tybee Island. The 
 fortifications there are said to be strong and well manned. 
 
 lOtt, — Returning from church to-day, we were overtaken 
 by W. B. C, on horseback. We were surprised and 
 delighted. He soon explained his "position." Jackson's 
 Brigade has been ordered to take charge of the Yalley, and 
 is coming to-day to Strasburg, and thence to Winchester. 
 He rode across on R's horse. He dined with us, and told 
 us a great deal about the army, particularly about our own 
 boys. We are greatly relieved to have that noble brigade 
 iu our midst ; we have felt, for a long time, the want of 
 protection. 
 
 Monday Night. — To-day M. P. and myself went to 
 Winchester, and thence to the camp. We took Mr. P. N's 
 children to see their father. There we saw W. B., J. M. G., 
 and many other young friends, and were much pleased at 
 their cheerfulness. They look sunburnt and soldierly. I 
 returned to Winchester to see my dear S. S. R. C. was 
 sitting with her, looking well and happy. Camp-life agrees 
 with him. These poor boys expect to be ordered to Rom- 
 ney ; but wherever they go, they hope, by God's help, to 
 repel the invaders. 
 
 lbth. — This was fast-day — a national fast proclaimed by 
 our President. I trust that every church in the Confederacy 
 was well filled with heart-worshippers. The Rev. Mr. Jones 
 preached for us at Millwood. This whole household was 
 there — indeed, the whole neighbourhood turned out. 
 
DECEMBER, 1861. 73 
 
 We have been anxiously awaiting the result of an anti- 
 cipated fight between Price and Fremont ; but Fremont 
 was superseded while almost in the act of making the attack. 
 We await further developments. 
 
 Winchester, December 9. — Mr. and myself have 
 
 been here for three weeks, with Dr. S. and our dear niece. 
 Jackson's Brigade still near, which gives these warm-hearted 
 people a good opportunity of working for them, and sup- 
 plying their wants. We see a great deal of out nephews, 
 and never sit at the table without a large addition to the 
 family circle. This is always prepared for, morning, noon, 
 and night, as it is a matter of course that soldiers will be 
 brought in just at the right time, and so cordially received 
 that they feel that they have a perfect right to come again 
 when it is convenient to them. 
 
 A regiment or two have been sent to protect the Chesa- 
 peake and Ohio Canal near Honeywood. Affairs in the 
 army are very quiet. 1 hope that the calm does not por- 
 tend a storm ; I pray that it may be averted. 
 
 "The Briars," December 18. — Sadly negligent of my diary 
 lately. Nothing new has occurred. We pleasantly pursue 
 the even tenor of our way, but are now preparing to go to 
 my brother's, in Hanover, next week. We have been to 
 "Mountain View" for a couple of days, on a farewell visit 
 to the family. The Bishop has sent his study-carpet to the 
 camp, along with every thing he could possibly spare, for 
 the soldiers' comfort. He looks cheerfully upon our pros- 
 pects, and is now listening to " Motley's Dutch Republic" 
 with " infinite zest." It is read to him by his daughter-in-law, 
 on these long winter nights. His manner of life is certainly 
 most amiable, as well as pleasant to himself and instructive 
 to others. 
 
 4 
 
74: DIAEY OF A SOUTHERN BEFTJGEE. 
 
 Newspapers have just come, giving an account of a fight 
 at Cheat Mountain, on the 13th of December, in which we 
 were successful. Rumours also of a fight on the Chesa- 
 peake and Ohio Canal ; and another rumour that England 
 has demanded the restoration of " Mason and Slidell," and 
 in case of non-compliance with the demand, that Lord 
 Lyons should demand his passports. How ardently I do 
 wish that England would break up the blockade ! 
 
18 6 2. 
 
 Westwood, Hanover County, January 20, 1862. — I pass 
 over the sad leave-taking of our kind friends in Clarke and 
 Winchester. It was very sad, because we knew not when and 
 under what circumstances we might meet agai'\ We left 
 Winchester, in the stage, for Strasburg at ten o'clock at 
 night, on the 24th of December. The weather was bitter 
 cold, and we congratulated ourselves that the stage was not 
 
 crowded. Mr. and the girls were on the back seat, 
 
 a Methodist clergyman, a soldier, and myself on the middle, 
 and two soldiers and our maid Betsey on the front seat. 
 We went off by starlight, with every prospect of a pleasant 
 drive of eighteen miles. As we were leaving the suburbs of 
 the town, the driver drew up before a small house, from 
 which issued two women with a baby, two baskets, several 
 bundles, and a box. The passengers began to shout out, 
 " Go on. driver ; what do you mean ? there's no room for 
 another ; go on." The driver made no answer, but the 
 women came to the stage-door, and began to put in their 
 bundles ; the gentlemen protested that they could not get 
 in — there was no room. The woman with the baby said 
 she would get in ; she was "agwine to Strasburg to spend 
 Christmas with her relations, whar she was born and raised, 
 and whar she had not been for ten year, and nobody had a 
 better right to the stage than she had, and she was agwine, 
 
76 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 and Kitty Grim was agwine too — she's my sister-law ; and 
 so is baby, 'cause baby never did see her relations in Strag- 
 burg in her life. So, Uncle Ben I" she exclaimed to the 
 driver, " take my bag, basket, and box by you, and me and 
 Kitty and baby, and the bundles and the little basket, will 
 go inside." All this was said amidst violent protestations 
 from the men within : " You can't get in ; driver, go on." 
 But suiting the action to the word, she opened the door, 
 calling, " Come, Kitty," got on the step, and thrust her 
 head in, saying : " If these gentlemen is gentlemen, and has 
 got any politeness, they will git out and set with "Uncle Ben, 
 and let ladies come inside." A pause ensued. At last a 
 subdued tone from the soldier on the middle seat was heard 
 to say : " Madam, if you will get off the step, I will get 
 out." " Very well, sir ; and why didn't you do that at first ? 
 And now," said she, looking at a man on the front seat, 
 " there's another seat by Uncle Ben ; sposeu you git out 
 and let Kitty Grim have your seat ; she's bound to go." 
 The poor man quietly got out, without saying a word, but 
 the very expression of his back, as he got out of the stage, 
 was subdued. " Now, Kitty, git in, and bring the little 
 basket and them two bundles ; they won't pester the lady 
 much." The door was closed, and then, the scene being 
 over, the passengers shouted with laughter. 
 
 Our heroine remained perfectly passive until we got to 
 the picket-post, a mile from town. The driver stopped ; a 
 soldier came up for passports. She was thunder-struck. 
 " Passes ! Passes for white folks ! I never heard of such 
 a thing. I ain't got no pass ; nuther is Kitty Grim." I 
 suggested to her to keep quiet, as the best policy. Just at 
 that time a Tennessee soldier had to confess that he had 
 forgotten to get a passport. " You can't go on," said the 
 
JAJsrxJARY, 1862. 77 
 
 official ; and the soldier got out. Presently the woman's 
 turn came. " Madam, your passport, if you please." " I 
 ain't got none ; nuther is Kitty Grim (that's my sister-in- 
 law); we ain't agwine to git out nuther, 'cause we's 
 gwine to Strasburg to spend Christmas with my relations, 
 and I ain't been thar for ten year, and I never heard of 
 white folks having passes." "But, madam," began the 
 
 official " You needn't to ' but, madam,' me, 'cause I ain't 
 
 agwine to git out, and I'd like to see the man what would 
 put me out. This is a free country, and I'se agwine to Stras- 
 burg this night ; so you might as well take your lantern out 
 of my face." " But, madam, my orders," began the picket. 
 " Don't tell me nothing 'bout orders ; I don't care nothing 
 'bout orders ; and you needn't think, 'cause the Tennessee 
 man got out, that I'se agwine to git out — 'cause I ain't. 
 Ain't I got three sons in the army, great sight bigger than 
 you is ? and they fit at Manassas, and they ain't no cowards, 
 nuther is their mother ; and I ain't agwine to git out of 
 this stage this night, but I'm gwine to Strasburg, whar I 
 was born and raised." 
 
 The poor man looked non-plussed, but yet another effort ; 
 he began, "My dear madam." " I ain't none of your dear 
 madam; I'se just a free white woman, and so is Kitty Grim, 
 and we ain't no niggers to git passes, and I'se gwine 'long 
 this pike to Strasburg. Now I'se done talking." With this 
 she settled herself on the seat, and leant back with a most 
 determined air; and the discomfited man shut the door amid 
 peals of laughter from within and from without. In a few 
 minutes we were quiet again, and all began to settle them- 
 selves for sleep, when the silence was broken by our heroiy^is 
 " Kitty, is you sick ?" " No," said Kitty j7 g "™ r ~ ' We im- 
 wonder. Gentlemen, can't one of you ta 
 
78 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 and give her yourn ? she gits monstrous sick when she is a- 
 riding with her back to the horses." There was a death- 
 like silence, and my curiosity was aroused to know how she 
 would manage that point. After a few moments she began 
 again. "Kitty, is you sick?" "No," says Kitty, "not 
 yit." " Well, I do wish one of you gentlemen would give 
 Kitty his seat." Still no reply. All was becoming quiet 
 again, when she raised her voice : " Kitty Grim, is you 
 sick V " Yes," said Kitty, "just a little." "I knowed it; I 
 knowed she was sick; and when Kitty Grim gits sick, she 
 most in gineral flings up !" The effect was electric. " My 
 dear madam," exclaimed both gentlemen at once, "take my 
 seat ; by all meaus take my seat." The Methodist clergy- 
 man being nearest, gave up his seat and took hers. The 
 change was soon effected amidst the most uproarious laugh- 
 ter, all feeling that they were fairly outgeneralled the third 
 time. From that time until we reached Strasburg, at two 
 o'clock, she kept up a stream of talk, addressed to the baby, 
 never interrupted except once, when the quiet-looking sol- 
 dier on the front scat ventured to say, " Madam, do you 
 never sleep ?" " Never when I'm a-travelling," was the curt 
 reply; and she talked on to the baby : "Look at all them 
 mules — what a sight of fodder they must eat! The Yan- 
 kees come down to fight us, 'cause we'se got niggers and 
 they ain't got none. I wish there warn't no niggers. I hate 
 Yankees, and I hate niggers too," etc., until we got to 
 Strasburg. She then called out to " Uncle Ben " not to 
 carry her to the depot — she was " agwine to her uncle's." 
 " Whar's that ?" cried Uncle Ben. " I don't know, but 
 monstrous nigh a tailor's." One of the passengers suggested 
 that timers." 11 ! be left b y the cars, and had better go on to 
 forgotten to get a je objected, and we had become a singu- 
 
JANUARY, 1862. 79 
 
 larly non-resisting company, and allowed her to take — what 
 we knew she would have — her own way. 
 
 In the mean time the cars arrived, crowded with soldiers. 
 It was very dark and cold ; the confusion and noise were ex- 
 cessive — shouting, hallooing, hurrahing. We passed through 
 the dense crowd, and into the cars, with some difficulty. Mr. 
 
 returned to look for the baggage. At last all seemed 
 
 ready, and off we went ; but what was our horror to find 
 
 that Mr. was not in the cars ! All the stories that we 
 
 had ever heard of persons being thrown from the train as 
 they attempted to get on, arose to our imagination. The 
 darkness and crowd were great. Might he not have been 
 thrown from the platform ? We became more and more 
 uneasy. The conductor came by; I questioned him, think- 
 ing he might be in another car. He replied, " No, madam, 
 there is no such gentleman on the train." At this moment 
 the Methodist minister, who had been in the stage, intro- 
 duced himself as the Rev. Mr. Jones; he knew Mr. ; 
 
 he offered me his purse and his protection. I can never for- 
 get his kindness. He thought Mr. had not attempted 
 
 to get on the train; there was so much baggage from the 
 stage that there was some difficulty in arranging it ; he 
 would telegraph from Manassas when we stopped to change 
 cars, and the answer would meet us at Culpeper Court- 
 House. All this was a great relief to us. At Manassas 
 he attended to our baggage; one piece was wanting — a 
 
 box, which Mr. J. had seen in Mr. 's hands, just before 
 
 the train set off; he seemed convinced that Mr. was 
 
 detained by an ineffectual effort to get that box on the car. 
 At Culpeper Court-House we found J. waiting for us at 
 the depot. Our kind and Kev. friend did not give up his 
 supervision of us until he saw us under J's care. We im- 
 
SO DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 mediately applied at the office for our expected telegram; 
 but it was not there. As it was Christmas-day, the office 
 was closed at a very early hour, which seemed to me a 
 strange arrangement, considering the state of the country. 
 J. felt no uneasiness about his father, but was greatly disap- 
 pointed, as he had expected to pass that day with him. I 
 had heard in Winchester that my nephew, W. B. Phelps, 
 -had been wounded in the unfortunate fight at Dranesyille, and 
 felt great uneasiness about him; but J. had seen persons di- 
 rectly from Centreville, who reported him slightly wounded. 
 This relieved my mind, but it was most unfortunate; for, 
 had I known the truth, I should have gone on the return 
 train to Manassas, and thence to Centreville, for the pur- 
 pose of nursing him. "We spent Christmas-day at the hotel, 
 and dined with a number of soldiers. In the afternoon we 
 were very much gratified to meet with the family of our 
 neighbour, Captain J. The Captain is stationed here, and 
 the ladies have made themselves very comfortable. We 
 took tea with them, and talked over our mutual troubles: 
 our lost homes — our scattered families and friends. 
 
 The next morning the train came at the usual hour, 
 
 bringing Mr. . Some difficulty in putting a small box 
 
 of books on the car had caused a slight detention, and as 
 he was almost in the act of stepping on board, the train 
 moved off, and there he was, left in the dead of a winter's 
 night, without shelter, (for, strange to say, there is no station- 
 house at Strasburg,) without light, and with no one to whom 
 he could apply for assistance. He walked back to the vil- 
 lage, and there, to use his own expression, he " verily thought 
 he should have to spend the freezing night in the street." 
 At a number of houses he knocked loud and long, but not 
 a door was opened to him. At last a young man in an 
 
JANUARY, 1862. 81 
 
 office, after giving scrutinizing glances through the window, 
 opened his door and gave him a chair by his fire, assigning 
 as a reason for the difficulty in getting accommodations, 
 that the number of disorderly soldiers passing through the 
 village made it dangerous to open the houses during the 
 night. At daybreak he got on a freight train, hoping 
 to find at Manassas the means of getting to Culpep- 
 er Court-House that night. In this he was disappointed, 
 and had a most unpleasant trip on the train, which did not 
 reach Manassas until sunset. There he found no place to 
 sleep, and nothing to eat, until a colonel, whose, name he 
 unfortunately had forgotten, invited him to his quarters in 
 the country. He accepted the invitation most gladly, and 
 as it was very dark, he took a servant as a guide, who 
 proved to know no more about the way than he did; so 
 that both blundered and stumbled along a muddy lane, over 
 fences, through a corn-field, over the stalks and corn-beds, 
 until, by what seemed a mere accident, they came upon the 
 longed-for house and found rest for the night. Next morn- 
 ing we joined him on the train, delighted to see him safe and 
 sound, feeling that " all's well that ends well ;" we pro- 
 ceeded pleasantly on our journey. J. accompanied us as 
 far as Gordonsville, that he might have two hours with his 
 father. That evening we reached this place after dark, and 
 found a house full of friends and relatives — the house at S. 
 If. also full — so that it was a real family gathering, as in 
 days of yore; and to add to our pleasure, our dear W. B. 
 N. was at home on furlough. Here we see nothing of war, 
 except the uniform of the furloughed soldiers and the re- 
 trenchment in the style of living. Desserts and wine are 
 abolished; all superfluities must go to the soldiers. In some 
 respects we are beginning to feel the blockade; groceries 
 
82 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN- REFUGEE. 
 
 are becoming scarce and high in price, but the ladies are be- 
 coming wonderfully ingenious — coffee is so judiciously blended 
 with parched corn, wheat or rye, that you scarcely detect 
 the adulteration. The dressy Southern girls are giving up 
 their handsome bonnets, wrappings, and silk dresses; they 
 are perfectly willing to give up what once they considered 
 absolutely necessary to their wardrobes. They say they do 
 not enjoy such things now; they are, however, bright and 
 cheerful ; they sing patriotic songs to their furloughed 
 friends, and listen with undying interest to anecdotes of the 
 battle-field, with tears for the fallen, sympathy for the 
 wounded, and the most enthusiastic admiration for deeds of 
 daring, or for the patient endurance of the soldier. It is 
 delightful to see the unanimity of feeling, the oneness of 
 heart, which pervades Virginia at this time; and we believe 
 it is so throughout the South. 
 
 We were, however, soon saddened by a letter from 
 Centreville, from a comrade of our dear Willie Phelps to 
 my brother, saying that the wound was more severe than it 
 was at first supposed. He immediately set out for Centre- 
 ville, but none of us dreamed of real danger. The reports 
 came from him less and less favourable ; I wanted to go to 
 him, but the letters were discouraging to me — " There was 
 no room for me ; ladies would be in the way in so small a 
 hospital;" and some strange hallucination and blindness to 
 clanger led us to abandon the idea of going to him. We 
 knew that he had lost his arm, but did not dream of danger 
 to his life. His mother, at her home in Covington, Ken- 
 tucky, saw his name among the wounded, and notwithstand- 
 ing the cold and ice, set off alone — came through Pittsburg 
 and to Baltimore without difficulty, thence to Washington; 
 but there no passport could be obtained to come to Vir- 
 
 4* 
 
JANUARY, 1862. 83 
 
 g'mia. Her son was but twenty miles off, certainly wounded; 
 she knew no more. She applied in person to the proper 
 authorities : " Is your son in the rebel camp ?" was asked. 
 " Then no passport can be given you to visit him." She 
 remembered that General McClellan (who had been a friend 
 in the old army of her son-in-law, General Mcintosh) was 
 in the city. She drove to his house. Mrs. McClellan ex- 
 pressed great sympathy for her, and for "your son, the 
 interesting young man I met with in Cincinnati," but re- 
 gretted that General McClellan was too ill to be spoken to 
 on any subject ; he was under the influence of anodynes, 
 etc, etc. She then drove to the house of Mr. Chase, who 
 had been for many years at the bar with her husband, and 
 on most friendly terms. The servant replied pompously 
 that Mr. Chase never saw company at that hour. She then 
 sent for Miss C. The daughter very politely regretted that 
 her father could not be seen until the next day at ten. She 
 could do nothing but return to the hotel for another night 
 of suspense. Next morning, in passing through the par- 
 lours, she encountered a lady from her own State, who 
 greeted her pleasantly; she was preparing to entertain her 
 friends — it was New Year's day. " Won't you be with us, 
 Mrs. P. ? You may meet some old friends." An apology 
 for declining the invitation was given, by a simple state- 
 ment of her object in coming to Washington. " Where is 
 your son ?" " In the Southern army." " Oh," she ex- 
 claimed, " not in the rebel camp ! Not a rebel !" and she 
 curled her loyal lip in scorn. " Yes," was the quiet reply, 
 " he is what you call a rebel; but it is the honoured name 
 which Washington bore;" and with a spirit not soothed by 
 her countrywoman, she passed on to the street, got into a 
 carriage, and proceeded to the house of Mr. Chase. It was 
 
84 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 ten o'clock — surely there could be no obstacle now. He 
 soon entered— she introduced herself and her subject. Mr. 
 C. was polite, but professed to be able to do nothing for 
 her : "lam not the proper person to whom such an appli- 
 cation should be made." " I know that ; but to whom 
 shall I apply ?" He said, " He did not know how to advise 
 her; the case was a difficult one; your son is in the rebel 
 camp; I think that you cannot get a passport." She then, 
 in a state of despair, exclaimed, " Oh, Mr. Chase, he is the 
 
 son of your old acquaintance, Mr. !" He was at once 
 
 touched. " Are you his widow ?" " Yes.'' " But how 
 came your son to join the rebels ?" " Because his father 
 and myself were both Virginians ; he was educated in Vir- 
 ginia, and his whole heart is in the Southern cause." He 
 immediately wrote a note to Mr. Seward, which he advised 
 her to deliver in person ; it would probably produce the 
 desired effect. To Mr.. Seward's she drove. The servant 
 invited her in, but supposed that the Secretary could not 
 attend to business, as it was New Year's day. The note 
 was sent up; an attache soon came down to say that the 
 Secretary could not be seen, but that a passport would be 
 given her, to go at least as far as Fortress Monroe — no 
 passport could be given to go immediately to Centreville. 
 She was thankful for this permission; but it seemed too 
 hard that she should be obliged to go around hundreds 
 of miles, when the object could be accomplished by going 
 twenty. 
 
 She took the evening train to Baltimore, thence, next 
 morning, to Portress Monroe ; she reached it in safety 
 that evening. The boat was visited by a provost-marshal as 
 soon as it touched the wharf, who, after examining pass- 
 ports, took hers, and some others, to General Wool. An 
 
JANUARY, 1862. 85 
 
 answer from this high officer was long delayed, but at last 
 it was brought. She could not land, but must return iu the 
 boat to Baltimore ; it would leave for Baltimore next 
 morning. She poured out her griefs to the officer, who, 
 sympathizing with her story, said he would again apply to 
 General Wool. He soon returned to say that she might 
 land, and her case would be examined into next morning. 
 Next day she was requested to walk into General Wool's 
 office. He asked why she wanted to go to "Virginia. The 
 story was soon told. Then the stereotyped question : " Is 
 your son iu the rebel army?" with the usual answer. 
 " Then," he replied, "you cannot go." Despair took pos- 
 session of her soul. She forgot her own situation, and, 
 with the eloquence of a mother, almost frantic with anxiety, 
 she pleaded her cause. Even the obdurate heart of General 
 Wool was moved. He asked her what she knew of the 
 army at Washington. She replied, that she knew nothing; 
 she bad only seen the soldiers who passed her on the street. 
 " What have you seen of our army here ?" " Nothing, for 
 I have been too unhappy to think of it, and only left my 
 room when summoned by you." " Then," said he, " you 
 may take the first boat to Norfolk." The hour for the 
 departure of the boat came, her trunk was duly searched, 
 and she came off to the dearly-loved Confederacy. She 
 reached Norfolk too late for the cars, and had to wait until 
 next day. On reaching Richmond, she heard that her son 
 had been brought to this place, and was doing well. The 
 next evening she arrived here in a carriage, and was shocked 
 and disappointed to find that she had been misinformed. 
 Heavy tidings reached us that night : he was uot improving, 
 as we had hoped, but decidedly worse. At two o'clock in 
 the morning T accompanied her to the depot, eight miles off, 
 
86 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 and we went on to Manassas ; reached the junction after 
 night, and were met by our brother and W. B. N. They 
 knew that we would be in the cars, and came to meet us. 
 As they approached us, I saw, by the dim light of the car- 
 lamp, that their countenances were sad. My heart sunk 
 within me. What could it be ? Why had they both left 
 him ? She had not seen them, and said to me, " Come, we 
 must get an ambulance and go to Centreville to-night." But 
 in another moment the whole was told. Her child had died 
 that morning, just ten hours before. Who can describe that 
 night of horrors ? We spent it in a small house near the 
 depot. Friends and near kindred were full of sympathy, 
 and the people in whose house we were, were kind and con- 
 siderate. The captain of his company, a noble young friend 
 from her own home, Covington, came to see her, and to 
 condole with her ; but her first-born was not — the darling 
 of her heart had passed away ! At daylight we were in 
 the cars again, on our melancholy return. On the third day 
 his dear remains were brought to us, and the mother saw 
 her heroic son, in his plain soldier's coffin, but beautiful in 
 death, committed to God's own earth, having fallen in a 
 glorious cause, in the faith of the Gospel, and with a bright 
 hope of a blessed immortality. The young Kentucky friend 
 who accompanied his remains told her his last words, which 
 were a wonderful consolation to her : "Tell my mother 
 that I die in the faith of Christ ; her early instructions have 
 been greatly blessed to me ; and my last word is, Mother." 
 This was said in extreme weakness. He soon slept, and 
 never awoke in this world. One young soldier said to me 
 that night, at Manassas : " He was one of the bravest men 
 I ever saw, and met death like a soldier." Another said : 
 " He died like a Christian." Scarcely had we buried him, 
 
FEBKUAEY, 1362. 87 
 
 when news was brought us that her younger, now her only 
 son, was desperately ill on the steamer " Jamestown," on 
 James River— he belongs to our navy. She hurried to 
 Richmond, and thence down the river to the steamer, but 
 found him better. He was soon well enough to accompany 
 her to this place. She had left her home suddenly, and 
 must return to it ; so, after a few days with her boy, who 
 is now decidedly convalescent, she has left him in our care, 
 and has set off on her weary way home. She will probably 
 meet with no difficulties on her return, from officials, as she 
 has passports through our lines ; but she has a lonely, 
 dreary way before her, and a sorrowful story for her young 
 daughter at home. God be with her 1 
 
 Richmond, February 5. — For two weeks my diary has 
 been a closed book. After another week at W., we went 
 to the Presbyterian Parsonage, to join the refugee family 
 who had gathered within its walls. They had made them- 
 selves comfortable, and it had quite a home-like appearance. 
 
 After remaining there a day or two, Mr. received a 
 
 letter, announcing his appointment to a clerkship in the Post- 
 Office Department. The pleasure and gratitude with which 
 it is received is only commensurate with the necessity which 
 made him apply for it. It seems a strange state of things 
 which induces a man, who has ministered and served the 
 altar for thirty-six years, to accept joyfully a situation purely 
 secular, for the sole purpose of making his living ; but no 
 chaplaincy could be obtained except on the field, which 
 would neither suit his health, his age, nor his circumstances. 
 His salary will pay his board and mine in Richmond, and 
 the girls will stay in the country until they or I can obtain 
 writing from Government — note-signing from Mr. Memmin- 
 ger, or something else. We are spending a few days with 
 
88 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 oar niece, Mrs. H. A. C, until we can find hoard. Mr. 
 
 has entered upon the duties of his office, which he finds 
 confining, but not very arduous. To-morrow I shall go in 
 pursuit of quarters. 
 
 The city is overrun with members of Congress, Govern- 
 ment officers, office-seekers, and strangers generally. Main 
 Street is as crowded as Broadway, New York ; it is said 
 that every boarding-house is full. 
 
 February 6. — Spent this day in walking from one board- 
 ing-house to another, and have returned fatigued and hope- 
 less. I do not believe there is a vacant spot in the city. A 
 friend, who considers herself nicely fixed, is in an uncarpeted 
 room, and so poorly furnished, that, besides her trunk, she 
 has only her wash-stand drawer in which to deposit her 
 goods and chattels ; and yet she amuses "herself at it, and 
 seems never to regret her handsomely furnished chamber in 
 Alexandria. 
 
 1th. — Walking all day, with no better success. "No 
 vacant room" is the universal answer. I returned at 
 dinner-time, wearied in mind and body. I have been cheered 
 
 by suggestions that perhaps Mrs. , with a large family 
 
 and small income, may take boarders; or Mrs. , with a 
 
 large house and small family, may do the same. 
 
 8th. — I have called on the two ladies mentioned above. 
 The lady with the small income has filled her rooms, and 
 wishes she had more to fill. She of the large house and 
 small family had " never dreamed of taking boarders," was 
 " surprised that such a thing had been suggested," looked 
 cold and lofty, and meant me to feel that she was far too 
 rich for that. I bowed myself out, feeling not a little 
 scornful of such airs, particularly as I remembered the time 
 when she was not quite so grand T went on my way 
 
FEBRUARY, 1S62. 89 
 
 speculating on the turning of the wheel of fortune, until I 
 reached the house of an old acquaintance, and rang her 
 bell, hoping that she might take in wanderers. This I did 
 not venture to suggest, but told her my story in pitiful 
 tones. She was all sympathy, and would be glad to take 
 us in, but for the reserve of a bachelor brother to whom 
 the house belonged. She appreciated the situation, and 
 
 advised me to call on Mrs. on Street. Nothing 
 
 daunted by past experience, I bent my steps to Street, 
 
 and soon explained my object to Mrs. . She had had 
 
 vacant rooms until two days ago, but a relative had taken 
 both. Though she spoke positively, she looked doubtful, 
 and I thought I saw indecision in the expression of her 
 mouth. I ventured to expostulate : " Perhaps the lady 
 might be induced to give up one room." She hesitated, and 
 gave me an inquiring look. I told her my history. " An 
 Episcopal minister," she exclaimed; " I'm au Episcopalian, 
 and would be delighted to have a minister in the house. 
 Do you think he would have prayers for us sometimes ?" 
 " Oh, certainly, it would gratify him very much." " Well, the 
 lady is not at home to-day, but when she comes I will try 
 to persuade her to do it. Call on Monday." I thanked 
 her, and was walking out, when she called me back, saying, 
 " You will not expect a constant fire in the parlour, will 
 you ?" " Oh, no; I can take my visitors to my own room." 
 "Well, I may be out on Monday morning; come in the 
 evening." I returned very much pleased, and received the 
 congratulations of my friends, who are taking much interest 
 in our welfare. 
 
 We are suffering great uneasiness about the country. 
 The enemy is attacking Roanoke Island furiously. Gen- 
 eral Wise is there, and will do all that can be done; but 
 
90 DIAEY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 fears are entertained that it has not been properly for- 
 tified. 
 
 Sunday Night. — Painful rumours have been afloat all 
 day. Fort Henry, on Tennessee River, has been attacked. 
 
 We went to St. James's this morning, and St. Paul's to- 
 night. "When we returned we found Mr. N. and Brother 
 J. awaiting us. They are very anxious and apprehensive 
 about Roanoke Island. 
 
 Monday Night. — Still greater uneasiness about Roanoke 
 Island. It is so important to us — is said to be the key to 
 Norfolk; indeed, to all Eastern North Carolina, and South- 
 eastern Virginia. We dread to-morrow's papers. 
 
 The lady on Street has disappointed me. She met me 
 
 with a radiant smile when I went to see her this evening, say 
 ing, "She agrees; she must, however, remove the wardrobe 
 and bureau, as she wants them herself; but there's a closet 
 in the room, which will answer for a wardrobe, and I reckon 
 that a table with a glass on it will do for a bureau.'' "Oh, 
 yes; only give me a good bed, some chairs and a washstand, 
 and I can get along very well. Can I see the room?" 
 " Yes ; it is a back-room in the third story, but I reckon 
 you won't mind that." My heart did sink a little at that 
 
 communication, when I remembered Mr. 's long walks 
 
 from Bank Street; but there was no alternative, and I fol- 
 lowed her up the steps. Great was my relief to find a large 
 airy room, neatly carpeted, and pleasant in all respects. 
 "This will do," said I; "take the wardrobe and bureau 
 out, and put a table in, and I shall be very well satisfied." 
 "I have a small table," she replied, "but no glass; you 
 will have to buy that." " Very well, I will do that. But 
 you have not yet told me your terms." " Will you keep a 
 fire ?" " Oh, certainly, in my room." " Then my charge 
 
FEBEUAEY, 1862. 91 
 
 is ." I stood aghast ! " My dear madam," said I, 
 
 "that is twenty dollars more than the usual price, and three 
 dollars less than our whole salary per month.'' " Well, I 
 can't take a cent less; other people take less because they 
 want to fill their rooms, but I was only going to take you 
 for accommodation ; and I can fill my rooms at any time." 
 Now the lines of her face were not undecided. I turned, 
 and as I walked up the already lighted streets of my native 
 city, feeling forlorn and houseless, 
 
 " In happy homes I saw the light 
 Of household fires gleam warm and bright ;" 
 
 and hope that I was not envious. My friends were very 
 sympathetic when I returned, not, however, without a certain 
 twinkle of the eye denoting merriment, as it exactly coin- 
 cided with a most provoking prophecy made by Mr. 0. as I 
 set out; and I joined in a hearty laugh at my own expense, 
 which was a real relief to my feelings. 
 
 No good news from Roanoke Island. Port Henry has 
 fallen ; that loss, is treated lightly, but the enemy have turn- 
 ed their attention to Port Donelson, on Cumberland River, 
 which, if taken, would give them free access into the heart 
 of Tennessee. 
 
 Tuesday. — Roanoke Island has fallen — no particulars 
 heard. 
 
 12th. — The loss of Roanoke Island is a terrible blow. 
 The loss of life not very great. The " Richmond Blues " 
 were captured, and their Captain, the gifted and brave O. 
 Jennings Wise, is among the fallen. My whole heart over- 
 flows towards his family; for, though impetuous in public, he 
 was gentle and affectionate at home, and they always seem- 
 ed to look upon him with peculiar tenderness. He is a 
 
DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 92 
 
 severe loss to the country. Captain Coles, of Albemarle, 
 has also fallen. He was said to be an interesting young 
 man, and a gallant soldier. The Lord have mercy upon our 
 stricken country ! 
 
 13^. — Donelson is holding out bravely. I shudder to 
 think of the loss of life. 
 
 Notwithstanding the rain this morning, I renewed my 
 pursuit after lodgings. With over-shoes, cloak and um- 
 brella, I defied the storm, and went over to Grace Street, to 
 an old friend who sometimes takes boarders. Her house 
 was full, but with much interest she entered into my feel- 
 ings, and advised me to go to Mr. L., who, his large school 
 having declined, was filling his rooms with boarders. His 
 wife was the daughter of a friend, and might find a nook 
 for us. I thought of the " Hare and many friends," and 
 bent my steps through the storm to the desired haven. To 
 my surprise, Mrs. L. said we could get a room ; it is small, 
 but comfortable, the terms suit our limited means, and we 
 will go as soon as they let us know that they are ready 
 for us. 
 
 We have just been drawn to the window by sad strains of 
 martial music. The bodies of Captains Wise and Coles 
 were brought by the cars, under special escort. The mili- 
 tary met them, and in the dark, cold night, it was melan- 
 choly to see the procession by lamplight, as it passed slowly 
 down the street. Captain Wise has been carried to the 
 Capitol, and Captain Coles to the Central Depot, thence to 
 be carried to-morrow to the family burying-ground at Ennis- 
 corthy, in Albemarle County. Thus are the bright, glori- 
 ous young men of the Confederacy passing away. Can 
 their places be supplied in the army ? In the hearts and 
 homes of families there must ever be a bleeding blank. 
 
FEBRUARY, 1862. 93 
 
 Sunday, l&lh. — This morning we left home early, to be 
 present at the funeral of Captain Wise, but we could not 
 even approach the door of St. James's Church, where it took 
 place. The church was filled at an early hour, and the 
 street around the door was densely crowded. The proces- 
 sion approached as I stood there, presenting a most melan- 
 choly cortege. The military, together with civil officers of 
 every grade, were there, and every countenance was marked 
 with sorrow. As they bore his coffin into the church, with 
 sword, cap, and cloak resting upon it, I turned away in 
 sickness of heart, and thought of his father and family, and 
 of his bleeding country, which could not spare him. We 
 went to St. Paul's, and heard an excellent sermon from the 
 Rev. Mr. Quintard, a chaplain in the army. He wore the 
 gown over the Confederate gray — it was strange to see the 
 bright military buttons gleam beneath the canonicals. Every 
 thing is strange now! 
 
 Tuesday Morning. — The wires are cut somewhere be- 
 tween this and Tennessee. We hear nothing farther West 
 than Lynchburg; rumours are afloat that Donelson has fallen. 
 We are too unhappy about it to think of any thing else. 
 
 Evening. — It is all true. Our brave men have yielded to 
 overpowering numbers. The struggle for three days was 
 fearful. The dread particulars are not known. Wild sto- 
 ries are told of the numbers captured. God in his mercy 
 help us ! 
 
 Wednesday, 19 th. — We are now in our own comfort- 
 able little room on Grace Street, and have quite a home-like 
 feeling. Our children in the city are delighted to have 
 us so near them, and the girls have come on a visit to their 
 cousin, Mrs. C, and will be present at the inauguration on 
 the 22d. 
 
94 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 February 22.— To-day I had hoped to see our President 
 inaugurated, but the rain falls in torrents, and I cannot go. 
 So mairy persons are disappointed, but we are comforted by 
 knowing* that the inauguration will take place, and that the 
 reins of our government will continue to be in strong hands. 
 His term of six years must be eventful, and to him, and all 
 others, so full of anxiety ! What may we not experience 
 during those six years ? Oh, that all hearts may this day 
 be raised to Almighty God for his guidance 1 Has there 
 been a day since the Fourth of July, 1*1*16, so full of inter- 
 est, so fraught with danger, so encompassed by anxiety, so 
 sorrowful, and yet so hopeful, as this 22d of February, 
 1862 ? Our wrongs then were great, and our enemy power- 
 ful, but neither can the one nor the other compare with all 
 that we have endured from the oppression, and must meet 
 in the gigantic efforts .of the Federal Government. Oar 
 people are depressed by our recent disasters, but our soldiers 
 are encouraged by the bravery and endurance of the troops 
 at Donelson. It fell, but not until human nature yielded 
 from exhaustion. The Greeks were overcome at Ther- 
 mopylae, but were the Persians encouraged by their success ? 
 Did they still cherish contempt for their weak foe ? And 
 will the conquerors of Donelson meet our little army again 
 with the same self-confidence ? Has not our Spartan band 
 inspired them with great respect for their valour, to say 
 nothing of awe ? 
 
 Our neighbour in the next room had two sons in that 
 dreadful fight. Do they survive ? Poor old lady 1 she can 
 hear nothing from them ; the telegraphic wires in Tennessee 
 are cut, and mail communication very uncertain. It is so 
 sad to see the mother and sister quietly pursuing their avo- 
 cations, not knowing, the former says, whether she is not the 
 
FEBRUARY, 1862. 95 
 
 second time widowed; for on those sons depend not only her 
 comfort, but her means of subsistence, and' that fair young 
 girl, always accustomed to perfect ease, is now, with her 
 old mother, boarding — confined to one room, using her taste 
 and ingenuity, making and altering bonnets for her many 
 acquaintances, that her mother may be supplied with the 
 little luxuries to which she has always been accustomed, 
 and which, her child says, " mother must have." " Our 
 property," she says, " is not available, and, of course, ' the 
 boys' had to give up their business to go into the army." 
 
 23d.— Notwithstanding the violence of the rain yesterday, 
 the Capitol Square, the streets around it, and the adjacent 
 houses, were crowded. The President stood at the base of 
 that noble equestrian statue of Washington, and took the 
 oath which was taken by the " Father of his Country " 
 more than seventy years ago — just after the " great rebel- 
 lion," in the success of which we all, from Massachusetts 
 to Georgia, so heartily gloried. No wonder that he spoke 
 as if he were inspired. Was it not enough to inspire him 
 to have the drawn sword of Washington, unsheathed in 
 defence of his invaded country, immediately over his head, 
 while the other hand of his great prototype points encourag- 
 ingly to the South ? Had he not the life-like representa- 
 tions of Jefferson, George Mason, and, above all, of Patrick 
 Henry, by his side ? The latter with his scroll in his out- 
 stretched hand, his countenance beaming, his lips almost 
 parted, and seeming on the point of bursting into one blaze 
 of eloquence in defence of his native South. How could 
 Southern tongues remain quiet, or Southern hearts but burn 
 within ns, when we beheld our heroes, living and dead, sur- 
 rounding and holding up the hands of our great chief ? By 
 him stood his cabinet, composed of the talent and the 
 
96 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN" REFUGEE. 
 
 patriotism of the land ; then was heard the voice of our 
 beloved Assistant Bishop, in tones of fervid eloquence, be- 
 seeching the blessings of Heaven on our great undertaking. 
 I would that every young man, from the Potomac to the 
 Rio Grande, could have witnessed the scene. 
 
 Last night was the first levee. The rooms were crowded. 
 The President looked weary and grave, but was all suavity 
 and cordiality, and Mrs. Davis won all hearts by her usual 
 unpretending kindness. I feel proud to have those dear old 
 rooms, arousing as they do so many associations of my 
 childhood and youth, filled with the great, the noble, the 
 fair of our land, every heart beating in unison, with one 
 great object in view, and no wish beyond its accomplishment, 
 as far as this world is concerned. But to-day is Saturday, 
 and I must go to the hospital to take care of our sick- 
 particularly to nurse our little soldier-boy. Poor child, he 
 is very ill ! 
 
 21th. — Nothing new or important in our army. We 
 were relieved to hear that the number who surrendered at 
 Donelson was not so great as at first reported ; the true 
 number is 1,000, which is too many for us to lose 1 I trust 
 they may be kindly treated. I know that we have friends 
 at the North, but will they dare to be friendly openly? 
 Oh, I hope they may have mercy on our prisoners ! We 
 have had some hope of recognition by France and England, 
 but they still look on with folded arms. 
 
 March 3. — Last Friday was the third day appointed 
 by our President as a day of fasting and prayer within nine 
 months. The churches were filled to overflowing, with, I 
 trust, heart-worshippers, and I believe that God, in his 
 great mercy, will direct our Government and our army. 
 
 4th. — In statu quo as far as onr armies are concerned. 
 
march, 1862. 97 
 
 The Nashville, a Confederate steamer, that has been 
 watched by eight Federal war vessels, came into port the 
 other day, at Beaufort, North Carolina, after many hair- 
 breadth escapes, bringing a rich, burden. 
 
 Ash-Wednesday, March 5. — This morning Dr. Wilmer 
 gave us a delightful sermon at St. Paul's. He will be con- 
 secrated to-morrow Bishop of Alabama. To-night Bishop 
 Elliott of Georgia preached for us, on the power of thought 
 for good or evil. I do admire him so much in every re- 
 spect. 
 
 Uh. — To-day we saw Bishop Wilmer consecrated — 
 Bishop Meade presiding, Bishops Johns and Elliott assist- 
 ing. The services were very imposing, but the congrega- 
 tion was grieved by the appearance of Bishop Meade; he 
 is so feeble 1 As he came down the aisle, when the con- 
 secration services were about to commence, every eye was 
 fixed on him ; it seemed almost impossible for him to reach 
 the chancel, and while performing the services he had to be 
 supported by the other Bishops. Oh, how it made my 
 heart ache ! and the immense crowd was deeply saddened 
 by it. 
 
 1th. — Just returned from the hospital. Several severe 
 cases of typhoid fever require constant attention. Our 
 little Alabamian seems better, but so weak 1 I left them 
 for a few moments to go to see Bishop Meade; he sent for 
 me to his room. I was glad to see him looking better, and 
 quite cheerful. Bishops Wilmer and Elliott came in, and 
 my visit was very pleasant. I returned to my post by the 
 bedside of the soldiers. Some of them are very fond of 
 hearing the Bible read ; and I am yet to see the first soldier 
 who has not received with apparent interest any proposition 
 of being read to from the Bible. To-day, while reading, 
 
98 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 an elderly man of strong, intelligent face sat on the side of 
 the bed, listening with interest. I read of the wars of the 
 Israelites and Philistines. He presently said, "I know why 
 you read that chapter; it is to encourage us, because the 
 Yankee armies are so much bigger than ours ; do you 
 believe that God will help us because we are weak?" 
 "No," said I, "but I believe that if we pray in faith, as 
 the Israelites did, that God will hear us." " Yes," he re- 
 plied, "but the Philistines didn't pray, and the Yankees do; 
 and though I can't bear the Yankees, I believe some of 
 them are Christians, and pray as hard as we do; ["Mon- 
 strous few on 'em," grunted out a man lying near him;] and 
 if we pray for one thing, and they pray for another, I don't 
 know what to think of our prayers clashing." " Well, but 
 what do you think of the justice of our cause ? don't you 
 believe that God will hear us for the justice of our cause?" 
 "Our cause," he exclaimed, "yes, it is just; God knows it 
 is just. I never thought of looking at it that way before, 
 and I was mighty uneasy about the Yankee prayers. lam 
 mightily obleeged to you for telling me." " Where are you 
 from ?" I asked. " From Georgia." " Are you not over 
 forty-five ?" "Oh, yes, I am turned of fifty, but you see I am 
 monstrous strong and well; nobody can beat me with a rifle, 
 and my four boys were a-coming. My wife is dead, and my 
 girls are married; and so I rented out my land, and came 
 too; the country hasn't got men enough, and we mustn't 
 stand back on account of age, if we are hearty." And 
 truly he has the determined countenance, and bone and 
 sinew, which make a dangerous foe on the battle-field. I 
 wish we had 50,000 such men. He reminds me of having 
 met with a very plain-looking woman in a store the other 
 day. She was buying Confederate gray cloth, at what 
 
 5 
 
march, 1862. 99 
 
 seemed a high price. I asked her why she did not apply 
 to the quartermaster, and get it cheaper. " Well," she 
 replied, " I knoios all about that, for my three sons is in 
 the army ; they gets their clothes thar; but you see this is 
 for my old man, and I don't think it would be fair to get 
 his clothes from thar, because he ain't never done nothing 
 for the country as yet — he's just gwine in the army." " Is 
 he not very old to go into the army ?" "Well, he's fifty-four 
 years old, but he's well and hearty like, and ought to do 
 something for his country. So he says to me, says he, ' The 
 country wants men; I wonder if I could stand marching; 
 I've a great mind to try.' Says I, ' Old man, I don't think 
 you could, you would break down; but I tell you what you 
 can do — you can drive a wagon in the place of a young man 
 that's driving, and the young man can fight.' Says he, ' So 
 I will — and he's agwine just as soon as I gits these clothes 
 ready, and that won't be long.' " " But won't you be very 
 uneasy about him ?" said I. " Yes, indeed; but you know 
 he ought to go — them wretches must be drove away." 
 " Did you want your sons to go ?'' " Want 'em to go !" 
 she exclaimed; "yes; if they hadn't agone, they shouldn't 
 a-staid whar I was. But they wanted to go, my sons did." 
 Two days ago, I met her again in a baker's shop; she was 
 filling her basket with cakes and pies. "Well," said I, 
 " has your husband gone ?" " No, but he's agwine to- 
 morrow, and I'm getting something for him now." "Don't 
 you feel sorry as the time approaches for him to go ?" 
 "Oh, yes, I shall miss him mightily; but I ain't never cried 
 about it; I never shed a tear for the old man, nor for the 
 boys neither, and I ain't agwine to. Them Yankees must 
 not come a-nigh to Richmond; if they does, I will fight them 
 myself. The women must fight, for they shan't cross Mayo's 
 
100 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 Bridge ; they shan't git to Richmond." I said to her, 
 "You are a patriot." "Yes, honey — ain't you? Ain't 
 everybody ?" I was sorry to leave this heroine in home- 
 spun, but she was too busy buying cakes, etc., for the " old 
 man," to be interrupted any longer. 
 
 8th. — The family of Captain , of the navy, just 
 
 arrived. They have been " refugeeing" in Warrenton; but 
 now that there is danger of our army falling back from the 
 Potomac to the Rappahannock, they must leave Warrenton, 
 and are on their way to Danville. Their sweet home is ut- 
 terly destroyed ; the house burned, etc. Like ourselves, 
 they feel as though their future was very dark. 
 
 March llth. — Yesterday we heard good news from the 
 mouth of James River. The ship " Virginia," formerly 
 the Merrimac, having been completely incased with iron, 
 steamed out into Hampton Roads, ran into the Federal 
 vessel Cumberland, and then destroyed the Congress, and 
 ran the Minnesota ashore. Others were damaged. We 
 have heard nothing further; but this is glory enough for one 
 day, for which we will thank God and take courage. 
 
 13th. — Our hearts are overwhelmed to-day with our pri- 
 vate grief. Our connection, Gen. James Mcintosh, has 
 fallen in battle. It was at Pea Eidge, Arkansas, on the 
 1th, while making a dashing cavalry charge. He had 
 made one in which he was entirely successful, but seeing 
 the enemy reforming, he exclaimed, " We must charge again. 
 My men, who will follow me V He then dashed off, fol- 
 lowed by his whole brigade. The charge succeeded, but the 
 leader fell, shot through the heart. The soldiers returned, 
 bearing his body ! My dear J. and her little Bessie are in 
 Louisiana. I groan in heart when I think of her. Oh 
 that I were near her, or that she could come to us ! 
 
MARCH, 1862. 101 
 
 These are the things which are so unbearable in this war. 
 That noble young man, educated at West Point, was Cap- 
 tain in the army, and resigned when his native Georgia se- 
 ceded. He soon rose to the rank of Brigadier, but has 
 fallen amid the flush of victory, honoured, admired and be- 
 loved by men and officers. He has been buried at Tort 
 Smith. The Lord have mercy upon his wife and child! 
 I am thankful that he had no mother to add to the 
 heart-broken mothers of this land. The gallant Texas Ran- 
 ger, General Ben McOulloch, fell on the same day; he will 
 be sadly missed by the country. In my selfishness I had 
 almost forgotten him, though he doubtless has many to 
 weep in heart-sickness for their loved and lost. 
 
 Bishop Meade is desperately ill to-day — his life despaired 
 of. 
 
 March lAth. — Our beloved Bishop Meade is dead ! His 
 spirit returned to the God who gave, redeemed, and sanctified 
 it, this morning about seven o'clock. The Church in Vir- 
 ginia mourns in sackcloth for her great earthly head. We 
 knew that he must die, but this morning, when we had as- 
 sembled for early prayers, it was announced to us from the 
 pulpit, a thrill of anguish pervaded the congregation, which 
 was evident from the death-like stillness. A hymn was 
 read, but who could then sing ? A subdued effort was at 
 last made, and the services proceeded. Like bereaved chil- 
 dren we mingled our prayers and tears, and on receiving 
 the benediction, we went silently out, as in the pressure of 
 some great public calamity, and some bitter, heartfelt sor- 
 row. Thus, just one week after the solemn public services 
 in which he had been engaged, it pleased Almighty God to 
 remove him from his work on earth to his rest in heaven 
 During his last illness, though often suffering intensely, he 
 
103 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 never forgot his interest in public affairs. The blessed Bible 
 was first read to him, each morning, and then the news of 
 the day. He had an eye for every thing; every movement 
 of Government, every march of the troops, the aspect of 
 Europe, and the Northern States, every thing civil and mili- 
 tary, and all that belonged to God's Church upon earth- 
 dying as he had lived, true to Virginia, true to the South, 
 true to the Church, and true to the Lord his God. 
 
 Saturday Night. — Spent to-day at the hospital. Heard 
 of the shelling of Newbern, N. C, and of its fall. My 
 heart sickens at every acquisition of the Federals. No 
 further news from Arkansas. Yesterday evening I went to 
 see the body of our dear Bishop ; cut a piece of his hair; 
 kissed his forehead, and took my last look at that revered 
 face. 
 
 Monday Night. — This morning I was at the funeral, at 
 St. Paul's Church ; the service was read by the Rev. J. P. 
 McGuire and Rev. C. J. Gibson. Bishop Johns made a 
 most solemn address. The procession, long and sad, then 
 wended its way to Hollywood Cemetery. 
 
 15rt.. — Our army has fallen back to the Rappahannock, 
 thus giving up the splendid "Valley and Piedmont country to 
 the enemy. This, I suppose, is right, but it almost breaks 
 our hearts to think of it. Winchester was occupied last 
 Wednesday ! Lord, how long shall our enemies prosper ? 
 Give us grace to bear our trials. 
 
 2ith. — Our people continue to make every effort to repel 
 the foe, who, like the locusts of Egypt, overrun our land, 
 carrying the bitterest enmity and desolation wherever they 
 go. Troops are passing through Richmond on their way to 
 Goldsborough, N. C, where it is said that Burnside is ex- 
 pected to meet them. Everybody is busy in supplying their 
 
MARCH, 1862. 103 
 
 wants as they pass through. On Sunday, just as the girls 
 of one of the large seminaries were about to seat themselves 
 at table, the principal of the school came in : " Young 
 ladies," said he, " several extra trains have arrived, unex- 
 pectedly, filled with troops. The committee appointed to 
 attend them are totally unprepared. What can we do to 
 help our hungry soldiers ?" " Give them our dinner,' 1 cried 
 every young voice at once. In five minutes baskets were 
 filled and the table cleared. When the girls reached the 
 cars, the street was thronged with ladies, gentlemen, chil- 
 dren, servants, bearing waiters, dishes, trays, baskets filled 
 with meats, bread, vegetables, etc. Every table in Rich- 
 mond seemed to have sent its dinner to Broad Street, and 
 our dear, dusty, hungry gray coats dined to their hearts' 
 content, filled their haversacks, shouted "Richmond for- 
 ever !" and went on their way rejoicing. 
 
 March 27. — This has been a day of uneasiness to us 
 all General Jackson has had a fight at Kernstown, near 
 Winchester. No particulars, except that the enemy were 
 repulsed, and our loss heavy. Many that are so dear to us 
 are in that "Stonewall Brigade;" and another day of sus- 
 pense must pass before we can hear from them. Our 
 Western army under Beauregard are fighting at Island No. 
 10, with what success we know not. The enemy presses 
 us on every side. 
 
 29th. — After much anxiety, more authentic information 
 from the "Valley" received this morning. We gave them 
 a good fight, but the field was left in the enemy's hand. 
 Poor, noble Winchester, to what degradation is she brought ! 
 Our dear W. B. C. was shot through the hip; the wound 
 painful, but not mortal ; he was carried to Staunton, and his 
 mother has gone to him. The rest of our own peculiar 
 
104 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 " boys" are safe, but many lives were lost. -It is thought 
 that a great crisis is at hand. The Peninsula is the place 
 appointed by rumour for a great battle. The croakers 
 dread much from tbeir numbers; my trust is in One who 
 can save by many or by few. 
 
 ■April 7. — Just returned from a little trip to the country 
 in time to hear the morning news of a splendid victory yes- 
 terday, at Shiloh. No particulars received. Skirmishing 
 near Yorktown reported; nothing definite. 
 
 9th. — Our victory at Shiloh complete, but General Albert 
 Sydney Johnston was killed. The nation mourns him as 
 one of our most accomplished officers. He fell while com- 
 manding in the thickest of the fight. It is an overwhelming 
 loss to the Western army, and to the whole country. 
 Beauregard pursued the enemy, but their General (Grant) 
 having been reinforced very largely, our army had to re- 
 treat to Corinth, which they did in good order. This was 
 done by order of General Johnston, should Buell reinforce 
 Grant. They are now at Corinth, awaiting an attack from 
 the combined forces. Van Dorn reinforced Beauregard. 
 We are anxiously awaiting the result. 
 
 10th. — Spent yesterday in the hospital by the bedside of 
 Nathan Newton, our little Alabamian. I closed his eyes 
 last night at ten o'clock, after an illness of six weeks. His 
 body, by his own request, ■will be sent to his mother. Poor 
 little boy ! He was but fifteen, and should never have left 
 his home. It was sad to pack his knapsack, with his little 
 gray suit, and coloured shirts, so neatly stitched by his poor 
 mother, of whom he so often spoke, calling to us in delirium, 
 "Mother, mother," or, "Mother, come here." He so often 
 called me mother, that I said to him one day, when his 
 mind was clear, " Nathan, do I look like your mother ?" 
 
APRIL, 1862. 105 
 
 "No, ma'am, not a bit; nobody is like my mother." The 
 packing of his little knapsack reminds me of 
 
 THE JACKET OF GRAY. 
 
 " Fold it up carefully, lay it aside, 
 Tenderly touch, it, look on it with pride, 
 For dear must it be to our hearts evermore, 
 The jacket of gray, our loved soldier-boy wore. 
 
 "Can we ever forget when he joined the brave band 
 Who rose in defence of our dear Southern land, 
 And in his bright youth hurried on to the fray — 
 How proudly he donned it, the jacket of gray? 
 
 " His fond mother blessed him, and looked up above, 
 Commending to Heaven the child of her love ; 
 What anguish was hers, mortal tongue may not say, 
 When he passed from her sight in his jacket of gray. 
 
 " But his country had called him, she would not repine, 
 Though costly the sacrifice placed on its shrine ; 
 Her heart's dearest hopes on the altar she lay, 
 W T hen she sent out her boy in his jacket of gray. 
 
 "Months passed, and war's thunders rolled over the land, 
 Unsheathed was the sword, and lighted the brand ; 
 We heard in the distance the sound of the fray, 
 And prayed for our boy in the jacket of gray. 
 
 ' Ah, vain, all in vain, were our prayers and our tears : 
 The glad shout of victory rang in our ears ; 
 But our treasured one on the battle-field lay, 
 While the life-blood oozed out on the jacket of gray. 
 
 " Fold it up carefully, lay it aside, 
 Tenderly touch it, look on it with pride, 
 5* 
 
106 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 For dear must it be to our hearts evermore, 
 The jacket of gray our loved soldier-hoy wore. 
 
 " His young comrades found him, and tenderly bore 
 The cold lifeless form to his home by the shore : 
 Oh, dark were our hearts on that terrible day 
 When we saw our dead boy in the jacket of gray. 
 
 " Ah, spotted and tattered, and stained now with gore, 
 Was the garment which once he so proudly wore ; 
 We bitterly wept as we took it away, 
 And replaced with death's white robes the jacket of gray. 
 
 " We laid him to rest in his cold, narrow bed, 
 And 'graved on the marble we placed o'er his head, 
 As the proudest of tributes our sad hearts could pay. 
 He never disgraced the poor jacket of gray. 
 
 " Fold it up carefully, lay it aside, 
 Tenderly touch it, look on it with pride, 
 For dear must it be to our hearts evermore, 
 The jacket of gray our loved soldier-boy wore." 
 
 11th. — The " Virginia" went out again to-day. The 
 Federal Monitor would not meet her, but ran to Fortress 
 Monroe, either for protection, or to tempt her under the 
 heavy guns of the fortress ; but she contented herself by 
 taking three brigs and one schooner, and carrying them to 
 Norfolk, with their cargoes. Soldiers are constantly pass- 
 ing through town. Every thing seems to be in preparation 
 for the great battle which is anticipated on the Peninsula. 
 
 Fort Pulaski has surrendered to the enemy's gun-boats. 
 The garrison fought until several breaches were made. They 
 then surrendered, and are now prisoners. Lord, have them 
 in thy holy keeping! 
 
April, 1862. 107 
 
 15th.- — A panic prevails lest the enemy should get to 
 Richmond. Many persons are leaving town. I can't be- 
 lieve that they will get here, though it seems to be their 
 end and aim. My mind is much perturbed; we can only 
 go on doing our duty, as quietly as we can. 
 
 20th. — On Wednesday we saw eight thousand troops 
 pass through town. We were anxious to see many who 
 were among them. The sidewalks were thronged with 
 ladies, many of them in tears. General C. passed with his 
 brigade, containing the 11th, with its familiar faces. Colo- 
 nel H. and himself rode to the sidewalk for a shake of the 
 hand, but the rest could only raise their hats in recognition. 
 I kuew the cavalry would pass through Franklin Street, 
 and hurried there to see my dear W. B. 1ST. The order 
 " Halt'' was given just as he, at the head of his troop, was 
 passing. I called him aloud. Amid the din and tumult of 
 course he could not hear, but as he raised his cap to salute 
 the ladies near him, his quick eye met mine; in an instant 
 he was at my side : " My dear aunt, what are you doing here ?" 
 " I came to look for you ; where are you going ?" " Our or- 
 ders extend to the steamers at the wharf," he replied ; 
 "but don't be uneasy, we are going to the right place." His 
 face glowed with animation, and I meant to appear cheer- 
 ful to him, but I found, after he was gone, that my face was 
 bathed in tears. They all looked as if the world were 
 bright before them, and we were feeling the appalling un- 
 certainty of all things. A mother stood by, straining her 
 weeping eyes for the parting glance at her first-born ; and 
 so many others turned their sad, weary steps homewards, as 
 their dear ones passed from their sight. 
 
 21st. — The ladies are now engaged making sand-bags for 
 the fortifications at Yorktown ; every lectnre-room in 
 
108 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 town crowded with them, sewing busily, hopefully, prayer- 
 fully. Thousands are wanted. No battle, but heavy skir- 
 mishing at Yorktown. Our friend, Colonel McKinney, has 
 fallen at the head of a North Carolina regiment. Freder- 
 icksburg has been abandoned to the enemy. Troops pass- 
 ing through towards that point. What does it all portend ? 
 We are intensely anxious; our conversation, while busily 
 sewing at St. Paul's Lecture-Room, is only of war. We 
 hear of so many horrors committed by the enemy in the 
 Valley — houses searched and robbed, horses taken, sheep, 
 cattle, etc., killed and carried off, servants deserting their 
 homes, churches desecrated 1 
 
 21th. — The country is shrouded in gloom because of the 
 fall of New Orleans ! It was abandoned by General Lov- 
 ell — necessarily, it is thought. Such an immense force was 
 sent against the forts which protected it, that they could 
 not be defended. The steamer Mississippi, which was nearly 
 finished, had to be burnt. We hoped so much from its pro- 
 tection to the Mississippi Eiver. Oh, it is so hard to see 
 the enemy making such inroads into the heart of our coun- 
 try ! it makes the chicken-hearted men and women despond- 
 ent, but to the true and brave it gives a fresh stimulus for 
 exertion. I met two young Kentuckians to-night who have 
 come out from their homes, leaving family and fortunes be- 
 hind, to help the South. After many difficulties, running 
 the blockade across the Potomac, they reached Richmond 
 yesterday, just as the news of the fall of New Orleans 
 had overwhelmed the city. They are dreadfully disap- 
 pointed by the tone of the persons they have met. They 
 came burning with enthusiasm; and anything like depres- 
 sion is a shock to their excited feelings. One said to 
 me that he thought he should return at once, as he had 
 
apeil, 1862. 109 
 
 " left every thing which made home desirable to help Vir- 
 ginia, and found her ready to give up." All the blood in 
 my system boiled in an instant. " Where, sir," said I, " have 
 you seen Virginians ready to give up their cause ?" " Why," 
 he replied, " I have been lounging about the Exchange all 
 day, and have heard the sentiments of the people." " Loung- 
 ing about the Exchange! And do you suppose that Vir- 
 ginians worthy of the name are now seen lounging about 
 the Exchange ? There you see the idlers and shirkers of 
 the whole Southern army. No true man under forty-five 
 is to be found there. Virginia, sir, is in the camp. Go 
 there, and find the trae men of the South. There they 
 have been for one year, bearing the hardships', and offer- 
 ing their lives, and losing life and limb for the South; it 
 is mournfal to say how many ! There you will find the 
 chivalry of the South; and if Virginia does not receive you 
 with the shout of enthusiasm which you anticipated, it is 
 because the fire burns steadily and deeply; the surface blaze 
 has long ago passed away. I honour you, and the many 
 noble young Kentuckians who have left their homes for 
 the sake of our country, but it will not do for Kentucky 
 to curl the lip of scorn at Virginia. Virginia blushes, 
 and silently mourns over her recreant daughter, and rejoices 
 over every son of hers who has the disinterestedness to 
 leave her and come to us in this hour of our bitter trial." 
 
 I do not believe that this young man really means, or 
 wishes, to return ; he only feels disheartened by the gloom 
 caused by our great national loss. 
 
 May Id. — The morning papers contain a most spirited 
 letter by the Mayor of New Orleans, in reply to the Fed- 
 eral commander who demanded the surrender of the city, 
 and that the Confederate flag should be taken down. He 
 
110 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 refuses to do either, telling him that the city is his by 
 brute force, but he will never surrender it. 
 
 Our young friend, J. S. M., is here, very ill ; I am assist- 
 ing to nurse him. I feel most anxious about him ; he and 
 his four brothers are nobly defending their country. They 
 have strong motives, personal as well as patriotic. Their 
 venerable father and mother, and two young sisters, were 
 forced to leave their comfortable home in Fairfax a year 
 ago. The mother has sunk into the grave, an early sacri- 
 fice, while the father and sisters continue to be homeless. 
 Their house has been burnt to the ground by Federal sol- 
 diers — furniture, clothing, important papers, all consumed. 
 Sad as this story is, it is the history of so many families 
 that it has ceased to call forth remark. 
 
 3d. — It is distressing to see how many persons are leaving 
 Richmond, apprehending that it is in danger ; but it will 
 not — I kuow it will not — fall. It is said that the President 
 does not fear; he will send his family away, because he 
 thinks it is better for men, on whom the country's weal is so 
 dependent, to be free from private anxiety. General John- 
 ston is falling back from Yorktown, not intending to fight 
 within range of the enemy's gun-boats. This makes us very 
 anxious about Norfolk. 
 
 May 5th. — Yesterday we had a blessed Sabbath, undis- 
 turbed by rumours; it is generally a day of startling 
 reports set afloat by idlers. The Bishop preached and 
 administered confirmation at St. Paul's. The President 
 was a candidate for confirmation, but was deterred by 
 business. It is such a blessing to have so many of out 
 public men God-fearing, praying Christians ! 
 
 1th. — Our " peaceful" Sabbath here was one of fearfnl 
 strife at Williamsburg. We met and whipped the enemy 
 
MAY, 18C2. Ill 
 
 Oh, that we could drive them from our land forever ! Much 
 blood spilt on both sides; our dear W. B. N. is reported 
 '■'missing" — oh, that heart-sinking word! How short a 
 time since that blessed glimpse of his bright face, as he 
 passed through town, and now he is on his weary way to 
 some Northern prison; at least we hope so. His poor wife 
 and mother ! Our young friend G. W. was killed ! How 
 maDy bright hopes were crushed in one instant by the fall 
 of that boy 1 I thank God that he had no mother. Gen- 
 eral Johnston still falls back, leaving the revered Alma 
 Mater of our fathers to be desecrated, perhaps burned. A 
 party of Yankees landed on Sunday at the White House. 
 That Pamunky country, so fertile, now teeming with grain 
 almost ready for the sickle, is at their mercy; we can only 
 hope that they have no object in destroying it, and that 
 they will not do it wantonly. W. and S. H. aud their dear 
 inmates are painfully near them. Eichmond, or the croakers 
 of Richmond, have been in a panic for two days, because of 
 the appearance of gun-boats on James River. I believe 
 they will not get nearer than they are now. I sat up last 
 night at the hospital with D. L., who is desperately ill — his 
 mother in the Federal lines. My companion during the 
 night was Colonel M., of Maryland. While listening to 
 the ravings of delirium, two gentlemen came in, announcing 
 heavy firing on the river. We had been painfully conscious 
 of the firing before, but rememberiug that Drnry's Bluff 
 was considered impregnable, I felt much more anxious about 
 the patient than about the enemy. The gentlemen, how- 
 ever, were panic-stricken, and one of them seemed to think 
 that "sunrise would find gun-boats at Rocketts." Not 
 believing it possible, I felt no alarm, but the apprehensions 
 of others made me nervous and unhappy. At daybreak I 
 
112 DIAEY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 saw loads of furniture passing by, showing that people were 
 taking off their valuables. 
 
 12/7t. — Just returned from a visit to S. H. The family 
 full of patriotism and very bright. While there, dear W's 
 horse and servant came home. His family bore it well, con- 
 sidering imprisonment the least casualty that could have 
 befallen him. If Richmond is invested, that beautiful 
 country will be in the hands of the enemy; the families 
 (except the gentlemen) will remain at home to protect the 
 property as best they may. They are now sending corn, 
 bacon, etc., into Bichmond for safety. None but the 
 croakers believe for an instant that it will fall. 
 
 Two hours ago we heard of the destruction of the "Vir- 
 ginia" by our own people. It is a dreadful shock to the 
 community. We can only hope that it was wisely done. 
 Poor Norfolk must be given up. I can write no more 
 to-day. 
 
 13tk. — General Jackson is doing so gloriously in the 
 Valley that we must not let the fate of the " Virginia" 
 depress us too much. On the 9th of May he telegraphed 
 to General Cooper : " God blessed our arms with victory 
 at McDowell yesterday." Nothing more has been given 
 us officially, but private information is received that he is 
 in hot pursuit down the Valley. The croakers roll their 
 gloomy eyes, and say, "Ah, General Jackson is so rash !" and 
 a lady even assured me that he was known to be crazy when 
 under excitement, and that we had every thing to fear from 
 the campaign he was now beginning in the Valley. I would 
 that every officer and soldier in the Southern army was 
 crazed in the same way; how soon we would be free from 
 despotism and invasion ! 
 
 May 14. — The anxiety of all classes for the safety of 
 
may, 1862. 113 
 
 Richmond is now intense, though a strong faith in the good- 
 ness of God and the valour of our troops keeps us calm 
 and hopeful. A gentleman, high in position, panic-struck, 
 was heard to exclaim, yesterday : "Norfolk has fallen, 
 Richmond will fall, Virginia is to be given up, and to-mor- 
 row I shall leave this city, an exile and a beggar." Others 
 are equally despondent, and, as is too frequently the case in 
 times of trouble, attribute all our disasters to the incom- 
 petency and faithlessness of those entrusted with the admin- 
 istration of public affairs. Even General Lee does not 
 escape animadversion, and the President is the subject of 
 the most bitter maledictions. I have been shocked to hear 
 that a counter-revolution, if not openly advocated, has been 
 distinctly foreshadowed, as the only remedy for our ills. The 
 public authorities of Richmond, greatly moved by the 
 defenceless condition of the city, appointed a committee, 
 and appropriated funds to aid in completing the obstructions 
 at Drury's Bluff. The Legislature also appointed a com- 
 mittee to wait upon the President and ascertain the prog- 
 ress of the work. A member of this committee, a near 
 connection of mine, has given me an account of their inter- 
 view with Mr. Davis. He received them, as is his invari- 
 able custom, with marked cordiality and respect. The sub- 
 ject was opened by the chairman of the Senate Committee, 
 who stated the object of the mission, and made appropriate 
 inquiries for information. The President proceeded to give 
 a distinct narrative of the progress of the work, expressed 
 his great desire for its early completion, and regretted that 
 the natural difficulties arising from frequent freshets in the 
 river, which the efforts of man could not overcome, had 
 rendered the progress of the work slow. He said he had 
 just returned from a visit to the Bluff, accompanied by 
 
114 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 General Lee; and having heard complaints against the man 
 in charge of the work, he had discharged him, and had ap- 
 pointed another, strongly recommended for efficiency. That 
 the flood was now subsiding, and he thought he could assure 
 the committee that the obstruction of the river would he 
 complete in twenty-four hours. At this point the door-bell 
 rang, and General Lee was announced. "Ask General 
 Lee in," said the President. The servant returned, saying 
 that the General wished to see the President for a few mo- 
 ments in the ante-room. The President retired, met General 
 Lee and the Secretary of the Navy, and soon returned to 
 the committee. The conversation being renewed, some 
 further inquiry was made with regard to Drury's Bluff. The 
 President replied : " I should have given you a very differ- 
 ent answer to your question a few moments ago from that 
 which I shall be compelled to give you now. Those traitors 
 at Norfolk, I fear, have defeated our plans.'' " What 
 traitors ?" asked nearly every member of the committee at 
 the same moment. He then proceeded to give a detail of 
 the desertion of the captain and crew of a steamer en- 
 gaged in transporting guns from Norfolk to Drury's Bluff, 
 who had gone over to the enemy with vessel and cargo, and 
 full information as to the unfinished condition of the works. 
 A member of the committee asked : " Can nothing be done 
 to counteract these traitors ?" The President replied : 
 " Every thing will be done, I assure you, which can be 
 done." The member continued : " But, Mr. President, 
 what will be done ?" The President politely declined to 
 answer the question, saying there were some things that it 
 was not proper to communicate. The member again pressed 
 for the information, saying : "This is a confidential meet- 
 ing, and, of course, nothing transpiring here will reach the 
 
MAY, 1862. 115 
 
 public." The President, with a smile on his countenance, 
 
 said : " Mr. , I think there was much wisdom in the 
 
 remark of old John Brown at Harper's Ferry : ' A man who 
 is not capable of keeping his own secrets is not fit to be 
 trusted with the business of other people.' " There was no 
 unpleasant feeling manifested in the committee, and the part- 
 ing was kind and cordial on both sides ; yet, nest morning, 
 it was rumoured on the streets that the President had been 
 rude to the committee, and that the meeting had been ex- 
 tremely unpleasant. On the night of this meeting the river 
 was obstructed by the sinking of the steamer Patrick 
 Henry, and other vessels, in the channel. This, it is sup- 
 posed, was the plan agreed upon by Mr. Davis and General 
 Lee in their short interview. Several days have passed since 
 this interview, and I trust that all is now safe. How thankful 
 I am that I knew nothing of this until the danger was passed! 
 The Legislature is in almost constant session during these 
 dark days. It contains many gentlemen of great intelligence 
 and of ardent zeal in the public cause. The whole body is 
 as true as steel, and its constant effort is to uphold the 
 hands of the President, to fire the popular heart, and to 
 bring out all the resources of Virginia in defence of the 
 liberty and independence of the South. I am told that day 
 after day, and night after night, " thoughts that breathe 
 and words that burn" are uttered in that hall, which, in 
 other days, has often rung with the eloquence of the noblest 
 statesmen, patriots, and orators of the land. These pro- 
 ceedings are all in secret session, and, for prudential reasons, 
 are withheld from the public ; but are they never to see 
 the light ? Is no one taking note of them ? I trust so, 
 indeed, that the civil history of Virginia, during this great 
 struggle, may not be lost to posterity. 
 
116 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 15th. — It is now ascertained beyond doubt that my 
 nephew, W. B. N., reported " missing," at Williamsburg, 
 is a prisoner in the enemy's hands. We are very anxious 
 for his exchange, but there seems some difficulty in effect- 
 ing it. His father, accompanied by Colonel Robertson, of 
 the Fourth Virginia Cavalry, called to see the President a 
 few nights ago, hoping to do something for him. The 
 President had just returned from a long ride to inspect the 
 fortifications. In answer to their card, he desired to see 
 the gentlemen in his study, where he was reclining on a sofa, 
 apparently much fatigued, while Mrs. Davis sat at a table 
 engaged in some fine needle-work. The President imme- 
 diately arose and received the gentlemen most courteously, 
 introducing them to Mrs. D. Colonel R. stated the object 
 of the visit, saying that Captain JNT. was one of the very 
 best officers of his rank in the army, and that his services 
 were almost indispensable to his regiment, and urged the 
 President to use every effort to procure his exchange. His 
 father seconded the request with the warmth natural to a 
 parent under such circumstances. The President seemed 
 deeply interested in the subject, and regretted that nothing 
 could then be done, as there was a difficulty pending be- 
 tween the belligerents on the subject of exchange ; as soon 
 as that difficulty was removed he would, with pleasure, do 
 all in his power to procure the exchange. Mrs. Davis lis- 
 tened with much interest to the conversation, and her feel- 
 ings became warmly interested. She said that her husband 
 was a father, and would feel deep sympathy; but if, in the 
 pressure of public business, the subject should pass from 
 his mind, she would certainly remind him of it. She made 
 a very favourable impression on the minds of these gentle- 
 men, who had never seen her before, by her ease of man- 
 
may, 1862. 117 
 
 ner, agreeable conversation, and the kindness of heart 
 which she manifested. After a most pleasant interview of 
 an hour, the visitors arose to take leave, but Mrs. Davis 
 invited them with so much cordiality to remain to take a 
 cup of tea with them, which, she said, was then coming up, 
 that they could not decline. The servant brought in the 
 tea-tray, accompanied by some light refreshment. Mrs. D. 
 poured out the tea for the company of four. The scene re- 
 minded them of the unpretending and genial hospitality 
 daily witnessed in the families of Virginia. 
 
 18th. — The 16th was the day appointed by the President 
 for fasting and prayer. The churches here were filled, as I 
 trust they were all over the land. 
 
 21th. — General Jackson's career going on gloriously. 
 After defeating Millroy, and Fremont's advance in the 
 Valley, and driving them back in confusion, so that nothing 
 was to be feared from his threatened union with Banks, he 
 pursued the enemy as far as Franklin, Pendleton County. 
 Then returning, he marched on rapidly) captured Front 
 Royal on the 23d, chasing the enemy through it at more 
 than double-quick. Still pressing hard upon Banks, he 
 gave him no rest night nor day, piercing his main column 
 while retreating from Strasburg to Winchester — the " rear 
 part retreating towards Strasburg. On Sunday, 25th, the 
 other part was routed at Winchester. At last accounts, 
 Brigadier-General George H. Stuart was pursuing them 
 with cavalry and artillery, and capturing many." I quote 
 from the General's own telegram, dated Winchester, May 
 26th. And now, notwithstanding our condition in Rich- 
 mond, our hearts and voices are attuned to praise, and our 
 pasans are more loud and bright in contrast to our late 
 distressing trials. 
 
118 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 29th. — No official accounts from "Stonewall" and his 
 glorious army, but private accounts are most cheering. 
 In the mean time, the hospitals in and around Richmond are 
 being cleaned, aired, etc., preparatory to the anticipated 
 battles. Oh, it is sickening to know that these prepara- 
 tions are necessary 1 Every man who is able has gone to 
 his regiment. Country people are sending in all manner of 
 things — shirts, drawers, socks, etc., hams, flour, fresh vege- 
 tables, fruits, preserves — for the sick and wounded. It is 
 wonderful how these things can be spared. I suppose, if 
 the truth were known, that they cannot be spared, except 
 that every man and woman is ready to give up every 
 article which is not absolutely necessary; and I dare say 
 that gentlemen's wardrobes, which were wont to be num- 
 bered by dozens, are now reduced to couples. 
 
 It is said that General Johnston, by an admirable series 
 of manoeuvres, is managing to retreat from Williamsburg, 
 all the time concealing the comparative weakness of his 
 troops, and is retarding the advance of the enemy, until 
 troops from other points can be concentrated here. 
 
 31s£. — The booming of cannon, at no very distant point, 
 thrills us with apprehension. We know that a battle is 
 going on. God help us ! Now let every heart be raised 
 to the God of battles. 
 
 Evening. — General Johnston brought in wounded, not 
 mortally, but painfully, in the shoulder. Other wounded 
 are being brought in. The fight progressing ; but we are 
 driving them. 
 
 Night. — We have possession of the camp — the enemy's 
 camp. The place is seven miles from Richmond. General 
 Lee is ordered to take General Johnston's place. The 
 fight may be renewed to-morrow. 
 
June, 1862. 119 
 
 June 1. — The loss yesterday comparatively small. Gen- 
 eral Johnston had managed his command with great suc- 
 cess and ability until he received his wound. What a pity 
 that he should have exposed himself ! but we are a blessed 
 people to have such a man as General Lee to take his 
 place. He (Gen. J.) is at the house of a gentleman on 
 Church Hill, where he will have the kindest attention, and 
 is free from the heat and dust of the city. 
 
 2d. — The battle continued yesterday near the field of 
 the day before. We gained the day 1 For this victory 
 we are most thankful. The enemy were repulsed with fear- 
 ful loss ; but our loss was great. The wounded were 
 brought until a late hour last night, and to-day the hos- 
 pitals have been crowded with ladies, offering their ser- 
 vices to nurse, and the streets are filled with servants 
 darting about, with waiters covered with snowy napkins, 
 carrying refreshments of all kinds to the wounded. Many 
 of the sick, wounded, and weary are in private houses. The 
 roar of the cannon has ceased. Can we hope that the 
 enemy will now retire ? General Pettigrew is missing — it 
 is thought captured. So many others "missing," never, 
 never to be found ! Oh, Lord, how long ! How long are 
 we to be a prey to the most heartless of foes ? Thousands 
 are slain, and yet we seem no nearer the end than when we 
 began ! ' 
 
 1th. — Sad news from the Valley. The brave, gallant, 
 dashing General Ashby has fallen ! He was killed yes- 
 terday, in a vigorous attack made by the enemy on our 
 rear-guard, at a point between Harrisonburg and Port Ke- 
 public. The whole country will be shocked by the calamity, 
 for it had a high appreciation of his noble character and 
 achievements. General Jackson valued him very highly, as 
 
120 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 did both men and officers. His daring was wonderful, and 
 wonderfully did he succeed in his dashing and heroic efforts. 
 " His sagacity in penetrating into the designs of the enemy 
 seemed almost intuitive."* It is so hard, in our weakness, 
 to give up such men I 
 
 9 th, Night. — General Jackson is performing prodigies of 
 valor in the "Valley ; he has met the forces of Fremont and 
 Shields, and whipped them in detail. They fought at Cross 
 Keys and Port Republic yesterday and to-day. I must 
 preserve his last dispatch, it is so characteristic : 
 
 "Through God's blessing, the enemy, near Port Ke- 
 public, was this day routed, with the loss of six pieces of 
 artillery. 
 
 "T. J. Jackson, 
 " Haj&r-General Commanding." 
 
 And now we are awaiting the casualties from the Val- 
 ley. This feeling of personal anxiety keeps us humble 
 amid the flush of victory. What news may not each mail 
 bring us, of those as dear as our heart's blood ? Each 
 telegram that is brought into the hospital makes me blind 
 with apprehension, until it passes me, and other coun- 
 tenances denote the same anxiety; but we dare not say a 
 word which may unnerve the patients; they are rejoicing 
 amid their pain and anguish over our victories. Poor fel- 
 lows! dearly have they paid for them, with the loss of 
 limb, and other wounds more painful still. They want to 
 be cured that they may be on the field again. " Thank 
 God," said a man, with his leg amputated, " that it was 
 not my right arm, for then I could never have fought 
 
 * From General Jackson's telegram announcing the death of 
 General Asliby. 
 
-* m\ n W WW i UM 
 
 JUNE, 1862. 121 
 
 again ; as soon as this stump is well I shall join Stuart's 
 cavalry ; I can ride "with a wooden leg as well as a real 
 one." 
 
 The " Young Napoleon" does not seem to be dispirited 
 by his late reverses. The New York Herald acknowledges 
 the defeat of the 31st, but says they recovered their loss 
 next day; but the whole tone of that and other Northern 
 papers proves that they know that their defeat was com- 
 plete, though they will not acknowledge it. They are 
 marshalling their forces for another " On to Richmond." 
 God, to Thee, to Thee alone, do we look for deliver- 
 ance. Thou, who canst do all things, have mercy upon us 
 and help us 1 
 
 June 12. — We are more successful in Virginia than else- 
 where. The whole Mississippi River, except Vicksburg and 
 its environs, is now in the hands of the enemy, and that 
 place must surrender, though it holds out most nobly, 
 amidst the most inveterate efforts to take it. Memphis has 
 fallen ! How my spirit chafes and grieves over our losses ! 
 God, let us not be given over a " hissing and a reproach 
 to our enemies." 
 
 15th. — General Stuart has just returned to camp after a 
 most wonderful and successful raid. He left Richmond two 
 or three days ago with a portion of his command ; went to 
 Hanover Court-House, where he found a body of the enemy; 
 repulsed them, killing and wounding several, and losing one 
 gallant man, Captain Latane, of the Essex cavalry; con- 
 tinuing his march by the " Old Church," he broke up their 
 camp and burnt their stores; thence to Tunstall's Station 
 on the York River Railroad; fired into the train, destroying 
 a part of it, and taking some prisoners; thence to Pamunky 
 River; found three transports loaded with provender, which 
 
 6 
 
122 DIAKY OF A SOTJTHEKN BEFUGEE. 
 
 tbey burned; filled their haversacks with West India fruit, 
 which had been brought on for Federal consumption; then 
 went on towards Charles City Court-House, encountering a 
 train of wagons; took their horses, mules, and drivers, and 
 burnt the wagons "and contents ; thence they went to a 
 Yankee sutler's stand, took what they wanted, and burnt 
 the rest ; thence across the Chickahominy and on to 
 Richmond; bringing 1*15 prisoners and a number of horses 
 and mules. We are all full of excitement and delight, 
 hoping that he discovered much about the Federal army 
 which may be useful, but which, of course, is kept from the 
 public; and I trust most fervently that our dear ones at S. H. 
 and W. may have been cheered by their presence, for they 
 must have gone very near them, if not immediately by their 
 gates— how the appearance of our men must have excited 
 them ! I wish I could see some member of the cavalry who 
 could tell me all about it — where they went, and whom 
 they saw. General Stuart must have gone, it is said, within 
 a few miles, perhaps nearer, of his father-in-law, the Federal 
 General Cooke. I wonder what the old renegade Virginian 
 thinks of his dashing son-in-law ? If he has a spark of 
 proper feeling left in his obdurate heart, he must be proud 
 of him. 
 
 June 21th. — Yesterday was a day of intense excitement 
 in the city and its surroundings. Early in the morning it 
 was whispered about that some great movement was on 
 foot. Large numbers of troops were seen under arms, evi- 
 dently waiting for orders to march against the enemy. A. 
 P. Hill's Division occupied the range of hills near " Straw- 
 berry Hill," the cherished home of my childhood, overlook- 
 ing the old " Meadow Bridges." About three o'clock the 
 order to move, so long expected, was given. The Division 
 
JUNE, 1862. 123 
 
 marched steadily and rapidly to the attack — the Fortieth 
 Regiment, under command of my relative, Colonel B., in 
 which are so many of our dear boys, leading the advance. 
 The enemy's pickets were just across the river, and the 
 men supposed they were in heavy force Of infantry and ar- 
 tillery, and that the passage of the bridge would be hazard- 
 ous in the extreme; yet their courage did not falter. The gal- 
 lant Fortieth, followed by Pegram's Battery, rushed across 
 the .bridge at double-quick, and with exultant shouts drove 
 the enemy's pickets from their posts. The enemy was driven 
 rapidly down the river to Mechanicsville, where the battle 
 raged long and fiercely. At nine o'clock all was quiet; the 
 bloody struggle over for the day. Our victory is said to 
 be glorious, but not complete. The fighting is even now 
 renewed, for I hear the firing of heavy artillery. Last night 
 our streets were thronged until a late hour to catch the last 
 accounts from couriers and spectators returning from the field. 
 A bulletin from the Assistant Surgeon of the Fortieth, sent 
 to his anxious father, assured me of the safety of some of those 
 most dear to me; but the sickening sight of the ambulances 
 bringing in the wounded met my eye at every turn. The 
 President, and many others, were on the surrounding hills 
 during the fight, deeply interested spectators. The calm- 
 ness of the people during the progress of the battle was 
 marvellous. The balloons of the enemy hovering over the 
 battle-field could be distinctly seen from the outskirts of the 
 city, and the sound of musketry as distinctly heard. All 
 were anxious, but none alarmed for the safety of the city. 
 From the firing of the first gun till the close of the battle 
 every spot favourable for observation was crowded. The 
 tops of the Exchange, the Ballard House, the Capitol, and 
 almost every other tall house were covered with human 
 
124 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 beings ; and after nightfall the commanding hills from the 
 President's house to the Aims-House were covered, like a 
 vast amphitheatre, with men, women and children, witnessing 
 the grand display of fireworks — beautiful, yet awful— and 
 sending death amid'those whom our hearts hold so dear. I 
 am told (for I did not witness it) that it was a scene of unsur- 
 passed magnificence. The brilliant light of bombs burst- . 
 ing in the air and passing to the ground, the innumerable 
 lesser lights, emitted by thousands and thousands of mus- 
 kets, together with the roar of artillery and the rattling of 
 small-arms, constituted a scene terrifically grand and im- 
 posing. What spell has bound our people ? Is their trust 
 in God, and in the valour of our troops, so great that they 
 are unmoved by these terrible demonstrations of our power- 
 ful foe ? It would seem so, for when the battle was over 
 the crowd dispersed and retired to their respective homes 
 with the seeming tranquility of persons who had been wit- 
 nessing a panorama of transactions in a far- off country, in 
 which they felt no personal interest; though they knew that 
 their countrymen slept on their arms, only awaiting the dawn 
 to renew the deadly conflict, on the success of which depended 
 not only the fate of our capital, hut of that splendid army, 
 containing the material on which our happiness depends. 
 Ah! many full, sorrowful hearts were at home, breathing 
 out prayers for our success ; or else were busy in the hospi- 
 tals, administering to the wounded. Those on the hill-sides 
 and house-tops were too nervous and anxious to stay at 
 home — not that they were apprehensive for the city, but 
 for the fate of those who were defending it, and their 
 feeling was too deep for expression. The same feeling, 
 perhaps, which makes me write so much this morning. 
 But I must go to other duties. 
 
*m 
 
 JUNE, 1S62. 125 
 
 Ten o'Clock at Night. — Another day of great excitement 
 in our beleaguered city. From early dawn the cannon has 
 been roaring around us. Our success has been glorious ! 
 The citizens — gentlemen as well as ladies — have been fully 
 occupied in the hospitals. Kent, Paine & Co. have thrown 
 open their spacious building for the use of the wounded. 
 General C, of Texas, volunteer aid to General Hood, 
 came in from the field covered with dust, and slightly 
 wounded; he represents the fight as terrible beyond example. 
 The carnage is frightful. General Jackson has joined 
 General Lee, aud nearly the whole army on both sides were 
 engaged. The enemy had retired before our troops to their 
 strong works near Gaines's Mill. Brigade after brigade 
 of our brave men were hurled against them, and repulsed 
 in disorder. General Lee was heard to say to General 
 Jackson, " The fighting is desperate; can our men stand it?" 
 Jackson replied, " General, I know our boys — they will 
 never give back." In a short time a large part of our 
 force was brought up in one grand attack, and then the 
 enemy was utterly routed. General C. represents the 
 valour of Hood and his brigade in the liveliest colours, and 
 attributes the graud success at the close of the day greatly 
 to their extraordinary gallantry. The works were the 
 strongest ever seen in this country, and General C. says 
 that the armies of the world could not have driven our men 
 from them. 
 
 Another bulletin from the young surgeon of the Fortieth. 
 That noble regiment has lost heavily — several of the " Po- 
 tomac Rifles" among the slain— sons of old friends and 
 acquaintances. E. B., dreadfully wounded, has been brought 
 in, and is tenderly nursed. Our own boys are mercifully 
 spared. Visions of the battle-field have haunted me all 
 
126 DIAEY OF A SOUTHERN EEFUGEE. 
 
 day. Our loved ones, whether friends or strangers— all 
 Southern soldiers are dear to us— lying dead and dying ; 
 the wounded in the hot sun, the dead being hastily buried. 
 McClellan is said to be retreating. " Praise the Lord, 
 my soul !" 
 
 28iA. — The casualties among our friends, so far, not very 
 numerous. My dear R. T. 0. is here, slightly wounded; he 
 hopes to return to his command in a few days. Colonel 
 Allen, of the Second Virginia, killed. Major Jones, of the 
 same regiment, desperately wounded. Wood McDonald 
 killed. But what touches me most nearly is the death of 
 my young friend, Clarence Warwick, of this city. Dearly 
 have I loved that warm-hearted, high-minded, brave hoy, 
 since his early childhood. To-night I have been indulging 
 sad memories of his earnest manner and affectionate tones, 
 from his boyhood up ; and now what must be the shock to 
 his father and brothers, and to those tender sisters, when 
 to-morrow the telegraph shall tell them of their loss ! His 
 cousin, Lieutenant-Colonel Warwick, is desperately wounded. 
 Oh, T pray that his life may be spared to his poor father 
 and mother ! He is so brave and skilful an officer that we 
 cannot spare him, and how can they ? The booming of can- 
 non still heard distinctly, but the sound is more distant. 
 
 June 30. — McClellan certainly retreating. We begin to 
 breathe more freely ; but he fights as he goes. Oh, that he 
 may be surrounded before he gets to his gun-boats! Rumours 
 are flying about that he is surrounded ; but we do not be- 
 lieve it — only hope that he may be before he reaches the 
 river. The city is sad, because of the dead and dying, but 
 our hearts are filled with gratitude and love. The end is not 
 yet — oh that it were 1 
 
 Mecklenburg County, July 15. — Mr. and myself 
 
July, 1862. 127 
 
 summoned here a short time ago to see our daughter, who 
 was very ill. Found her better — she is still improving. 
 
 Richmond is disenthralled — the only Yankees there are 
 in the "Libby" and other prisons. McClellan and his 
 " Grand Army," on James River, near Westover, enjoying 
 mosquitoes and bilious fevers. The weather is excessively 
 hot. I dare say the Yankees find the " Sunny South" all 
 that their most fervid imaginations ever depicted it, partic- 
 ularly on the marshes. So may it be, until the whole army 
 melts with fervent heat. The gun-boats are rushing up and 
 down the river, shelling the trees on the banks, afraid to 
 approach Drury's Bluff. The Northern papers and Con- 
 gress are making every effort to find out to whom the fault 
 of their late reverses is to be traced. Our people think 
 that their whole army might have been captured but for the 
 dilatoriness of some of our generals. General Magruder is 
 relieved, and sent to take command in the West. 
 
 21st. — Mr. sick, but better to-day. This is the an- 
 niversary of the glorious battle of Manassas. Since that 
 time we have had many reverses, but our victories, of late, 
 have atoned for all, except the loss of life. 
 
 We have had another naval fight on the Mississippi, just 
 north of Vicksburg. Our large gun-boat, Arkansas, ran 
 into the Federal fleet of twelve or thirteen gun-boats and 
 rams, and overcame them completely. Vicksburg stands 
 the bombardment with unflinching gallantry. No news 
 from the Army of the Potomac. It is reported that General 
 Jackson has gone to meet General Pope, who is on this 
 side of the Blue Ridge, marching, it is supposed, to join 
 McClellan. 
 
 Mr. • takes a ride to-day; the first since his sickness. 
 
 My heart is full of gratitude for public and private blessings. 
 
128 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 2M. — Letters and papers to-day. It is reported that 
 Hindinan has captured Curtis and his whole command 
 in Arkansas. Delightful, if true. The army iu Virginia, 
 and our dear ones, well. 
 
 28th. — The report of Hindman's having captured Curtis 
 untrue ; but our army is doing well in the West. Murfrees- 
 boro', in Tennessee, has been captured by' Confederates — a 
 brigade, two brigadiers, and other officers, taken. " Jack 
 Morgan " is annoying and capturing the Kentucky Yankees. 
 
 The true Southerners there must endure an almost un- 
 bearable thraldom ! 
 
 A long letter from S. S., describing graphically their 
 troubles when in Federal lines. Now they are breathing 
 freely again. A number of servants from W. and S. H., 
 and indeed from the whole Pamunky River, went off with 
 their Northern friends. I am sorry for them, taken from 
 their comfortable homes to go they know not where, and to 
 be treated they know not how. Our man Nat went, to 
 whom I was very partial, because his mother was the maid 
 and humble friend of my youth, and because I had brought 
 him up. He was a comfort to us as a driver and hostler, 
 but now that we have neither home, carriage, nor horses, it 
 makes but little difference with us ; but how, with his slow 
 habits, he is to support himself, I can't imagine. The wish 
 for freedom is natural, and if he prefers it, so far as I am 
 concerned he is welcome to it. I shall be glad to hear that 
 he is doing well. Mothers went off leaving children— in 
 two instances infants. Lord have mercy upon these poor 
 misguided creatures ! I am so thankful that the scurf of 
 the earth, of which the Federal army seems to be composed, 
 has been driven away from Hanover. I would that 
 " Clarke" were as free. 
 
july, 18G2. 129 
 
 July 29. — No army news. In this quiet nook mail-day 
 is looked forward to with the greatest anxiety, and the 
 newspapers are read with avidity from " Terms" to finis — 
 embracing Southern rumours, official statements, army tele- 
 grams, Yankee extravaganzas, and the various et cceleras. 
 The sick and wounded in the various hospitals are subjects 
 for thought and action in every part of our State which is 
 free to act for them ; we all do what we can in our own 
 little way ; and surely if we have nothing but prayer to 
 offer, great good must be effected. Yesterday evening, 
 while walking out, a young woman with a baby in her arms 
 passed us rapidly, weeping piteously, and with the wildest 
 expressions of grief ; we turned to follow her, but found that 
 another woman was meeting her, whom we recognized as 
 her mother ; in another moment all was explained by her 
 father, whom we met, slowly wending his way homeward. 
 He had been to the hospital at Danville to see his son-iu- 
 law, whose name appeared among the wounded there. On 
 reaching the place, he found that he had just been buried. 
 On returning he met his daughter walking ; in her impatience 
 and anxiety about her husband, she could not ■sit still iu 
 the house ; and in her ignorance, she supposed that her 
 father would bring him home to be nursed. Poor thing ! 
 she is one of thousands. Oh that the enemy may be driven 
 from our land, with a wholesome dread of encroaching upon 
 our borders again ! Our people are suffering too much ; 
 they cannot stand it. The family here suffers much anxiety ) 
 as each battle approaches, about their young son, the pride 
 
 and darling of the household. He is a lieutenant in the 
 
 Regiment ; but during the fights around. Richmond, as his 
 
 captain was unfit for duty, the first lieutenant killed in the 
 
 first fight, the command of the company devolved on this 
 
 6* 
 
130 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 dear, fair-haired boy, and many praises have they heard of 
 his bravery during those terrible days. He writes most 
 delightfully encouraging letters, and never seems to know 
 that he is enduring hardships. His last letter, written on a 
 stump near Charles City Court-House, whither they had fol- 
 lowed the enemy, was most exultant ; and, brave young 
 Christian as he is, he gives the glory to God. He exults 
 in having helped to drive them, and, as it were, pen them up 
 on the river ; and though they are now desecrating the fair 
 homes of his ancestors, (Berkeley and Westover,) yet, as 
 they dare not unfurl their once proud banner on any other 
 spot in Lower Virginia, and only there because protected by 
 their gun-boats, he seems to think that the proud spirits of 
 the Byrds and Harrisons may submit when they reflect that 
 though their ancestral trees may shelter the direst of all 
 foes, yet their ancestral marshes are yielding their malaria 
 and mosquitoes with an unstinting hand, and aiding unspar- 
 ingly the sword of the South in relieving it of invaders. 
 Dear B., like so many Southern boys, he was summoned 
 by the tocsin of war from the class-room to the camp. His 
 career was most successful in one of the first literary insti- 
 tutions in this country, and if he lives he will return to his 
 studies less of a scholar, but more of a man, in the highest 
 sense of the word, than any collegiate course could have 
 made him. But we can't look forward, for what horrors 
 may come upon us before our independence is achieved it 
 makes my heart ache to dwell upon. 
 
 August 4. — The girls just returned from a visit to Mrs. 
 A. of several days, which they enjoyed greatly. Every 
 thing there very bright and cheerful, except the hearts of the 
 parents — they yearn for their sons on the field of danger ! 
 A battle is now expected between Jackson and Pope. 
 
AUGUST, 1862. 131 
 
 August 5. — The papers of last night brought us no news, 
 except that our troops are firing upon the enemy's gun-boats 
 near Coggin's Point. The result not known. A battle 
 between Jackson and Pope still imminent. Major Bailey 
 made a brilliant cavalry raid a few days since upon the 
 enemy in Nicholas County, in which he took the command 
 of a lieutenant-colonel prisoners, burnt their stores, and 
 brought off many horses, mules, and arms. Morgan con- 
 tinues his successful raids in the West. The enemy has 
 abandoned the siege of Yicksburg for the time. 
 
 9th. — We hear of a little cavalry fight at Orange Court- 
 House, in which we drove off the enemy. General Pope 
 continues to commit depredations in his district of opera- 
 tions. He seems to have taken Butler as his model, and 
 even to exceed him in ferocity. Our President has just 
 given most sensible orders for retaliation. 
 
 The Misses N. are spending the summer here. Their 
 home in Clarke in possession of the enemy, together with 
 their whole property, they are dividing their time among 
 their friends. It is sad to see ladies of their age deprived ot 
 home comforts; but, like the rest of the refugees, they bear 
 it very cheerfully. Born and reared at Westover, they are 
 indignant in the highest degree that it should now be dese- 
 crated by McClellan's army. They are deeply mourning 
 the death of their noble young cousin, Captain B. Harrison, 
 of Upper Brandon, who was killed at the head of his troop, 
 in one of the battles near Richmond. 
 
 Lynchburg, August 20. — Mr. and myself arrived 
 
 here last night, after a most fatiguing trip, by Clarksville, 
 Buffalo Springs, then to Wolfs Trap Station on the Dan- 
 ville road, and on to the Southside Railroad. The cars 
 were filled with soldiers on furlough. It was pleasant to 
 
132 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 see how cheerful they were. Poor fellows 1 it is wonderful 
 when we consider what the next battle may bring forth. 
 They were occupied discussing the late battle at Cedar Run, 
 between General Jackson and a portion of Pope's army, 
 commanded by Banks. It was a very fierce fight, and many 
 casualties on both sides; but we won the day — the Lord be 
 praised ! Lynchburg is full of hospitals, to which the ladies 
 are very attentive ; and they are said to be very well kept. 
 I have been to a very large one to-day, in which our old 
 home friends, Mrs. R. and Miss E. M., are matrons. Every 
 thing looked beautifully neat and comfortable. As a 
 stranger, and having so much to do for my patient at home, 
 I find I can do nothing for the soldiers, but knit for them 
 all the time, and give them a kind word in passing. I ne?er 
 see one without feeling disposed to extend my hand, and 
 say, " God bless you." 
 
 29</i. — The Richmond papers of yesterday mention two 
 severe skirmishes on the Rappahannock within a week 
 The enemy are retreating through Culpeper, Orange, etc., 
 and our men are driving them on. General Jackson has 
 reached Warrenton. Burnside's army is said to be near 
 Fredericksburg, and Pope retreating towards Manassas. 
 The safe situation of this town makes it a city of refuge to 
 many. Several of our old friends are here. Mr. and Mrs. 
 D., of Alexandria, are just across the passage from us; the 
 J's are keeping house, and Mrs. M. is boarding very near 
 us. This evening our friends the S's arrived. None but 
 persons similarly situated can know the heartfelt pleasure of 
 meeting with home friends, and talking of home scenes — of 
 going back, as we did this evening, to the dear old times 
 when we met together in onr own parlours, with none to 
 make us afraid. We see very little of Lynchburg society, 
 
august, 1862. 133 
 
 but in this pleasant boarding-house, with refugee society, 
 we want nothing more. The warmest feelings of my heart 
 have been called forth, by meeting with one of the most 
 intimate friends of my youth — now Mrs. Judge D. We 
 met the other day in the church-door, for the first time for 
 many, many years. Time has done its i\ork with us both, 
 but we instantly recognized each other. Since' that time, 
 not a day has passed without some affectionate demonstra- 
 tion on her part towards us. At her beautiful home, more 
 than a mile from town, I found her mother, my venerable 
 and venerated friend Mrs. Judge C, still the elegant, accom- 
 plished lady, the cheerful, Warm-hearted, Christian Virginian 
 woman. At four-score, the fire kindles in her eye as she 
 speaks of our wrongs. " What would your father and ray 
 husband have thought of these times," she said to me — 
 " men who loved and revered the Union, who would have 
 yielded up their lives to support the Constitution, in its 
 purity, but who could never have given up their cherished 
 doctrines of State rights, nor have yielded one jot or tittle 
 of their independence to the aggressions of the North ?'' 
 She glories in having sons and grandsons fighting for the 
 South. Two of the latter have already fallen in the great 
 cause; I trust that the rest may be spared to her. 
 
 I see that the Northern papers, though at first claiming 
 a victory at " Cedar Run,'' now confess that they lost three 
 thousand killed and wounded, two generals wounded, sundry 
 colonels aid other officers. The Times is severe upon Pope — 
 thinks it extraordinary that, as he knew two days before that 
 the battle must take place, he did not have a larger force at 
 hand; and rather " strange" that he should have been within 
 six miles of the battle-field, and did not reach it until the fight 
 was nearly over! They say, as usual, that they were greatly 
 
134: DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 outnumbered! Strange, that with their myriads, they 
 should be so frequently outnumbered on the battle-field I 
 It is certain that our loss there was comparatively very 
 small ; though we have to mourn General Winder of 
 the glorious Stonewall Brigade, and about two hundred 
 others, all valuable lives. 
 
 August ZOth. — A package arrived last night from our 
 sisters, with my sister M's diary, for my amusement. It 
 was kept while our dear ones of W. and S. H. were sur- 
 rounded by McClellan's army. I shall use my leisure here 
 in copying it, that our children's children may know all that 
 our family suffered during this cruel war. During the six 
 weeks that they were surrounded by the foe, we only heard 
 from them through letters written to their husbands in Kich- 
 mond. These letters were captured by the enemy, and pub- 
 lished in a New York paper; and one was republished iu 
 the Bichmoud Enquirer, where we were most delighted to 
 find it. In that way W. B. N., then incarcerated in the 
 walls of Fort Delaware, heard from his mother, wife, 
 and children, for the first time since he was captured, in 
 March. 
 
 Mrs. N's diary begins : " May 18th. — S. H., Hanover 
 County, Va. C. M. and myself set off yesterday morning 
 for church. At my brother's gate we met Dr. N., who told 
 us that there were rumours of the approach of the enemy 
 from the White House. We then determined not to go to 
 our own church, but in another direction, to the Presbyte- 
 rian church. After waiting there until the hour for service 
 had arrived, an elder came in and announced to us that the 
 minister thought it prudent uot to come, but to have the 
 congregation dismissed at once, as the enemy were certainly 
 approaching. We returned home in a most perturbed 
 
august, 1862. 135 
 
 state, and found that my husband had just arrived, with sev- 
 eral of our sons and nephews, to spend a day or two with 
 us. In a short time a servant announced that he had seen 
 the Yankees that morning at the " Old Church." Then 
 there was no time to be lost; our gentlemen must go. We 
 began our hurried preparations, and sent for the carriage 
 and buggy. We were told that the driver had gone to 
 the Yankees. After some discussion, one of the gentlemen 
 determined to drive, and they were soon off. It was then 
 eleven o'clock at night, and the blackness of darkness reign- 
 ed over the earth. It was the most anxious night of my 
 life. Surrounded by an implacable foe, our gentlemen all 
 gone, we knew not how long we should be separated, or 
 what might not happen before we met, and the want of 
 confidence in our servants, which was now for the first time 
 shaken, made us very nervous. This morning we went to 
 W., and took leave of our sister, Mrs. C, and daughters. 
 Her sons are in the army, and being a refugee, she says she 
 must follow the army, and go where she can reach them if 
 they are wounded. We found C. busily dividing her year's 
 supply of bacon among the servants, that each may take 
 care of his own. As the enemy never regards locks, she 
 knows that her meat-house will be unsafe; we secreted two 
 guns, which had been inadvertently left, and returned, feel- 
 ing desolate, but thankful that our gentlemen were safely off. 
 
 " 22d. — Papers from Eichmond to-day. We are not yet 
 in the enemy's lines. 
 
 " 23d — The enemy's pickets gradually encroaching upon 
 us. A squad of their cavalry has been in the Hanover 
 Town lane all day; five or six lancers, with their red stream- 
 ers, rode slowly by our gate this evening. C. encountered 
 them in her walk home, and had a conversation with an offi- 
 
 5 
 
136 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 cer, Major Doyle, who made many professions of friend- 
 ship ! 
 
 " 24th. We were aroused this morning at an early hour, 
 
 by the servants rushing in, exclaiming : " The house is sur- 
 rounded by Yankees, and they are coming into the house." 
 I rushed to the window, and there they were. An officer 
 in the front porch, and a squad of cut-throat-looking fel- 
 lows on the steps ; while a number, with their red stream- 
 ers and lances, were dashing hither and thither; some at 
 the stable, some at the kitchen, others around the ser- 
 vants' quarters and at the barn, while the lane was filled 
 with them. Dr. T. had spent the night with little L., who 
 is ill with scarlet fever. I knocked at his door, and asked 
 him to go down and see what the people wanted. We 
 dressed as rapidly as possible. C. and M. had been up all 
 night with L., and were soon ready to go down. They 
 quickly returned, to say that the officer was Colonel Kush, 
 of Philadelphia, and demanded that my little son Edward 
 should be sent down immediately. It was in vain that they 
 told him that E. was a mere child — he had evidently heard 
 that he was a young man, and demanded his presence. The 
 child was aroused from his sleep, and hastily dressed him- 
 self, but not quickly enough for our impatient Colonel, who 
 walked to the staircase and began to ascend, when C. 
 called to him, " Colonel R., do you mean to go to a lady's 
 chamber before she is dressed ? The boy is in his mother's 
 room.'' Somewhat abashed, he stepped back. I soon de- 
 scended, accompanied by E. N. and W. S. There on the 
 mat before me stood a live Yankee colonel, with an aid 
 on either side. I approached ; he pointed to W. S., saying, 
 " Is that Edward N ?" " No," said I; " that is my grand- 
 son ; this is E. N." He said, " I want the boys to go with 
 
AUGUST, 1862. 137 
 
 me." Looking him full in the eye, I said, " Sir, will you 
 take these children prisoners ?" His eye fell, and with 
 many grimaces he replied, " Oh, no; I only want to ask the 
 boys a few questions." He then took them across the lawn, 
 I all the time watching them; asked them many questions, 
 but finding that he could get nothing out of them, he sent 
 them back, calling them " little rebels," etc. The Colonel 
 had seen defiant looks enough while in the house, and did 
 not return. He asked M. to let him give her a remedy for 
 scarlet fever, which Mrs. Colonel Huger had given him. 
 "Mrs. General Huger you mean ?" replied M. "Thank you, 
 I have perfect confidence in Dr. T." In the mean time his 
 commissary went to the meat-house, demanded the key, and 
 looking in, said, " I want three hundred pounds of this 
 bacon, and shall send for it this evening." Another man 
 went to the stable, took Dr. T's horse, saddle, and bridle, 
 and went off with them. The Colonel was immediately in- 
 formed of it, seemed shocked, and said, "Impossible ;" but on 
 ordering it to be brought back, it was soon returned. Pres- 
 ently the Quartermaster rode up to the door, calling out, 
 " Mrs. N., three horses were in your stable last night, and 
 they are not there now; the Colonel wishes their absence 
 accounted for." " Perhaps, sir," replied M., " they have been 
 stolen, as the other was; but as you get your information 
 from the servants, I refer you to them." He rode off, and 
 the whole party returned to their camp. 
 
 "Monday, 26th. — A cry of "Yankees," this morning, 
 sent us to the windows; there we saw a regiment of Lancers, 
 one of regulars, one of rifles, and another of zouaves, com- 
 posed of the most dreadful-looking creatures I ever beheld, 
 with red caps and trowsers ; also two guns. They were 
 on their way to the Wyoming bridge, which they destroyed, 
 
138 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 and then -made a reconnoissance of the Court House road. 
 On their return they called here, boasting that they had killed 
 one of our men ; they advised M. to hang out a white 
 flag to protect her house, which she, of course, declined 
 doing. 
 
 " 21th. — Last night I could not sleep, in consequence of a 
 threat made by one of the Yankee soldiers in our kitchen. 
 He said that 30,000 soldiers had been ordered to the 
 Court-House to-day, to " wipe out" our people. Were our 
 people ignorant of this, and how should we let them know 
 of it ? These were questions that haunted me all night. 
 Before day I formed my plan, and awakened S. to con- 
 sult her on the subject. It was this : To send W. S. to the 
 Court-House, as usual, for our letters and papers. If the 
 Yankee pickets stopped him, he could return ; if he coald 
 reach our pickets, he could give the alarm. She agreed to 
 it, and as soon as it was day we aroused the child, com- 
 municated to him our plan, (for we dared not write ;) he 
 entered into the spirit of it, and by light he was off. I 
 got up and went down to the yard, for I could not sit still; 
 but what was my consternation, after a short time had 
 elapsed, to see at the gate, and all along the road, the 
 hated red streamers of our enemy, going towards the Court- 
 House ! S. and myself were miserable about W. M. and 
 C. gave us no comfort ; they thought it very rash in us 
 to send him — he would be captured, and "Pax" (the 
 horse) would certainly be taken. We told them that it 
 was worth the risk to put our people on their guard ; but, 
 nevertheless, we were unhappy beyond expression. Present- 
 ly a man with a wretched countenance, and, from his con- 
 versation, an abolitionist of the deepest dye, rode in to 
 inquire if the artillery had passed along. My fears about 
 
august, 1862. 139 
 
 W. induced me to assume a bland countenance and manner, 
 and I told him of having sent a little boy for the mail, and I 
 wanted him to see that he came home safely ; he said that 
 the boy would not be allowed to pass, and promised, 
 gruffly, to do what he could for him ; but at the same time 
 made such remarks as made our blood boil ; but, remem- 
 bering Ws danger, we made no reply. He said he was 
 aid to General Warren. Before he left our gate, what was 
 our relief to see W. ride in, escorted by fourteen lancers, 
 he and his horse unmolested ' The child had gone ahead of 
 the Yankees, reached our picket, told his story, and a 
 vidette had immediately been sent with the information to 
 head-quarters. I then for the first time took my seat, with 
 my heart full of gratitude for Ws safety, and feeling 
 greatly relieved that I had done what I could. At three 
 o'clock the firing commenced ; it was very heavy for some 
 hours ; we knew they were fighting, and knew, too, that 
 our force at the Court-House was not large. Oh, what 
 anxious moments we have experienced this day ! The firing 
 has now ceased, and the Yankees are constantly strag- 
 gling in, claiming a great victory; but we have learned to 
 believe nothing they say. 
 
 " 28th. — Now our mail is broken up, and we feel that we 
 are indeed in the hands of the enemy. Oh, how forsaken 
 and forlorn we are ! yet we do what we can to cheer each 
 other, and get on right well. 
 
 " 30th. — This morning two horsemen rode up, and seeing 
 our cold looks, said, " Ladies, do you take us for Yankees ?" 
 " Of course we do — are you not Yankees 1" " Oh, no ; 
 we belong to the Augusta troop, and want to hear some- 
 thing of the movements of the enemy." "We pointed to 
 their pickets, and implored them to go at once. We, of 
 
140 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE, 
 
 course, filled their haversacks, and they were scouting about 
 the woods for some time. Oh, how our hearts go oat 
 towards our own people ! 
 
 " June 1st. — We heard very heavy firing all day yester- 
 day, and again to-day. At one time the roar was so continu- 
 ous that I almost fancied I heard the shouts of the com- 
 batants; the firing became less about twelve o'clock, and 
 now (night) it has ceased entirely. Dr. N. and Dr. T. have 
 been accused by the Yankees of having informed our people 
 of their meditated attack the other day. They were cross- 
 examined on the subject, and of course denied it positively, 
 They were threatened very harshly, the Yankees contending 
 that there was no one else in the neighbourhood that could 
 have done it. Poor little W. was not suspected at all — 
 they little know what women and children can do. 
 
 " 1th. — We have been now surrounded by the enemy for 
 two weeks, cut off from every relative except oar two 
 households. Our male relations, who are young enough, 
 are all in the army, and we have no means of hearing one 
 word from them. The roar of artillery we hear almost 
 every day, but have no means of hearing the result. We 
 see the picket-fires of the enemy every night, but have, so 
 far, been less injured by them than we anticipated. They 
 sometimes surround our houses, but have never yet searched 
 them. 
 
 " %th. — The New York Herald reports a bloody fight on 
 the 31st of May and 1st of June. They acknowledge 
 from 3,000 to 4,000 killed and wounded— give us credit for 
 the victory on the first day, but say that they recovered on 
 the second day what they lost on the first. I have no 
 doubt, from their own account, that they were badly 
 whipped ; but how long shall this bloody work continue ? 
 
AUGUST, 1862. 141 
 
 Thousands and thousands of our men are slain, and we 
 seem to be no nearer the end than at first. 
 
 " 9th. — Yankee wagons about all day, looking for corn 
 and fodder. I am thankful to say that M. has none for 
 them, the flood of last year having destroyed W's corn crop. 
 I felt to-day our short-sightedness ; what they considered a 
 calamity when the flood came, we feel now to be a blessing, 
 as we are not able to furnish food for our foes. God for- 
 give me for my feelings towards them ; but when I see 
 insolent fellows riding around and around our dwellings, 
 seeking what they may devour, every evil feeling of my 
 heart is kindled against them and their whole nation. 
 They, the murderers of our husbands, sons, fathers, think- 
 ing themselves at liberty to riot over our homesteads ! 
 They got their wagons filled from my brother's barn, a»d 
 in return pretended to give a bond, which they know is not 
 worth the paper on which it is written. One had the 
 assurance to tell C. that her husband would be paid if he 
 took the oath of allegiance. She told him that he would 
 not do that for all the corn in the Southern Confederacy. 
 Within two or three days they have become very bold ; 
 they ride up and demand the key of the corn-house or 
 meat-house, and if it is not immediately given, they break 
 open the door and help themselves. 
 
 " 11 th. — Yesterday evening we had another visit from the 
 Lancers: they fed their horses at M's barn, ripping off the 
 planks that the corn might roll out. The door was opened 
 by the overseer, but that was too slow a way for thieves 
 and. robbers. They encamped for the night in front of W. 
 C. was detained here yesterday by rain, and was not at 
 home all day, and they took that opportunity for searching 
 every thing. While they were filling the wagons at the 
 
142 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN" REFUGEE. 
 
 barn, four officers went over every part of the house, even 
 the drawers and trunks. They were moderate in their rob- 
 beries, only taking some damask towels and napkins from 
 the drawers, and a cooked ham and a plate of rolls from 
 the pantry. These men wore the trappings of officers ! 
 While I write, I have six wagons in view at my brother's 
 barn, taking off his corn, and the choice spirits accompany- 
 ing them are catching the sheep and carrying them off. 
 This robbery now goes on every day. The worst part of our 
 thraldom is, that we can hear nothing from our own army 
 
 " 13th. — Good news at last. Four letters were received 
 last night by way of Ashland. We learn that we certainly 
 whipped the Yankees on the 31st of May and 1st of 
 June, and that Jackson has had a most glorious campaign 
 in the Valley. We are grieved to hear that the gallant 
 Ashby has been killed, and trust that it is a mere rumour, 
 and that God has spared his valuable life. My sons wer« 
 not in the late fight, but are stationed at Strawberry Hill, 
 the home of my childhood. Every thing is being stolen on 
 these two places and elsewhere. A lieutenant on General 
 Porter's staff rode up this evening to ask M. to sell him 
 butter, fowls, eggs, etc. She told him that her poultry- 
 yard had been robbed the night before by some of his men. 
 He professed great horror, but had not gone fifty yards 
 when we heard the report of a pistol, and this wonderfully 
 proper lieutenant of a moment before had shot the hog of 
 an old negro woman who lives here. 
 
 " lith. — While quietly sitting on the porch yesterday 
 evening, I saw a young man rapidly approaching the house, 
 on foot; at first we took it for granted that he was a 
 Yankee, but soon found from his dress that he was one of 
 our soldiers, and from his excited manner that there was 
 
August, 1862. 143 
 
 something unusual the matter. He was Lieutenant Latane, 
 of Stuart's Brigade. They had been fighting on the road 
 from Hanover Court-House to the Old Church, and his 
 brother, the captain of the Essex Troop, had been killed 
 about two miles from W. The mill-cart from W. soon after 
 passed along, and he put his brother's body into it, and 
 brought it to W. There he found a Yankee picket stationed. 
 C. immediately took the dead soldier into her care, prom- 
 ising to bury him as tenderly as if he were her brother ; 
 and having no horse left on the place, (the enemy had taken 
 them all,) sent him here, by a private way, to elude the 
 vigilance of the picket, to get M's only remaining horse — 
 for the poor fellow had given up his to a soldier whose horse 
 had been killed. The horse was soon ready, and as soon as 
 we saw him safely off, we went over to W. to assist in pre- 
 paring the body for the burial. Oh, what a sad office ! 
 This dear young soldier, so precious to many hearts, now in 
 the hands of sorrowing, sympathizing friends, yet, person- 
 ally, strangers to him I He looked so young — not more 
 than twenty years of age. He was shot in four places ; 
 one ball had entered the region of his heart and passed out 
 at the back. We cut a large lock of his hair, as the only 
 thing we conld do for his mother. We have sent for Mr. 
 Carraway to perform the funeral services, and shall bury him 
 by our dear Willie Phelps, another victim to this unholy 
 war. 
 
 "15th. — Yesterday was the only day for three weeks that 
 we have been free from the hated presence of Yankees. 
 Aaron, whom we sent for Mr. C, was not allowed to pass 
 the picket-post, so we took the body of our poor young 
 captain and buried it ourselves in the S. H. grave-yard, with 
 no one to interrupt us. The girls covered his honoured 
 
144 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 grave with flowers. He and our precious W. lie side by 
 side, martyrs to a holy cause. 
 
 " We have heard nothing from General Stuart ; he had 
 5,000 men and three guns. The pickets have disappeared 
 from around us. The servant we sent for Mr. C. says 
 that General S. burnt the encampment near the Old Church, 
 on Saturday evening, killed many horses, and severely 
 wounded a captain, who refused to surrender; the men 
 scampered into the woods. He represents the Yankees as 
 very much infuriated, vowing vengeance upon our people, 
 from which we hope that they have been badly used. We 
 feel intensely anxious about our brigade. 
 
 " 16th. — Yesterday we sent letters to the Court-House 
 to be mailed, presuming, as we had not seen an enemy for 
 twenty-four hours, that the coast would be clear for awhile ; 
 but Bartlett rode into a detachment of them in Taliaferro's 
 Lane. The poor old man, in his anxiety to save his letters, 
 betrayed himself by putting his hand on his pocket. They 
 were, of course, taken from him. [The letters I mentioned 
 as having been published in the New York papers.] They 
 are heartily welcome to mine ; I hope the perusal may do 
 them good, but 0. is annoyed. It was the first letter she 
 had written to her husband since the depredations at W., 
 and she had expressed herself very freely. 
 
 " June 17. — The Yankees have returned upon us. They 
 came this morning early, and caught J. W's horse, which 
 they took off. We can hear nothing of General S. We 
 presume he has returned to Richmond. We shall have to 
 pay for it, I dare say, by being robbed, etc. ; but if it has 
 done good to the great cause, we do not mind personal 
 loss. We are now honoured with a guard of twenty-five 
 men — why, we are at a loss to conjecture, unless our inter- 
 
august, 1862. 145 
 
 cepted letters may have convinced them that we are dan- 
 gerous characters. "We doubtless have the will to do them 
 harm enough, but, surrounded and watched as we are, the 
 power is wanting. Our guard is composed of regulars, 
 who are much more decent men than the volunteers. 
 
 " C. commenced harvest yesterday, in a small way, but so 
 many servants are gone to the Yankees, that much of the 
 wheat must be lost, and the com cannot be worked. The 
 milkmaid amused herself at their remarks to them: "Ladies, 
 why do you work for white people ? Tou are all free now," 
 etc., etc. 
 
 " 18th. — Our guard in full force to-day. It is so absurd to 
 see the great fellows on their horses, armed from head to 
 foot, with their faces turned towards us, standing at our 
 yard-gate, guarding women and children, occasionally riding 
 about on the gravel-walks, plucking roses, with which they 
 decorate their horses' heads. A poor woman came to-day 
 in a buggy, in pursuit of corn. She had been robbed by 
 the enemy of every grain. This is the case with many 
 others, particularly with soldiers' wives. I asked an officer 
 to-day, what had become of General Stuart ? He said he 
 was a 'smart fellow,' and he 'guessed' he had returned 
 to Richmond, but he ' ought to have paid a visit to his 
 father-in-law, General Cooke, commanding the United States 
 cavalry not many miles distant.' 
 
 " 20th. — Our guard withdrew to-day, and we walked to 
 W., a privilege we had not enjoyed for many days. We 
 received a Richmond Dispatch by underground railroad. 
 General Stuart's raid was like a story in the 'Arabian 
 Nights' Entertainments.' He passed down from Hanover 
 Court-House, behind the whole of McClellan's army, in 
 many places so near as to hear the pickets, capturing and 
 
 1 
 
146 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 burning every thing which they could not take with them. 
 They then crossed the Lower Chickahominy, and got back to 
 camp before the enemy had recovered from their surprise ; 
 losing but one man, Captain Latane, whom we had the 
 honour of burying. The man who shot him, a Federal 
 officer, was immediately killed by a private in his (Captain 
 L's) company. The raiders burned two transports at the 
 White House, destroyed any number of wagons, mules, 
 stores, etc., and carried back 200 prisoners. The Yankees 
 have been making vast preparations for surrounding them 
 as they returned ; but they were too wise to be caught in 
 that trap. Their masked batteries will be of no avail this 
 time. At New Kent Court-House our men refreshed them- 
 selves with all manner of good things, at the expense of 
 the enemy, providing themselves with clothing, boots, etc., 
 and taking the sleek proprietor of the establishment 
 prisoner. 
 
 " 21st. — Yesterday we heard firing all day — heavy guns in 
 the morning, and musketry during the day, and heavy guns 
 again in the evening. Oh, that we could know the result ! 
 This morning is as calm and beautiful as though all was 
 peace on the earth. God, with whom all things are 
 possible, dispel the dark clouds that surround us, and permit 
 us once more to return to our homes, and collect the scat- 
 tered members of our flock around our family altar in peace 
 and safety ! JSTot a word from my husband or sons. 
 
 " 22d. — Dr. T. called to-day, to say that the firing we 
 heard on Friday was from our guns shelling the enemy, to 
 drive them lower down the Chickahominy. Letters, by 
 underground railroad, from our dear William, at Fort Del- 
 aware. He complains of nothing but his anxiety to be 
 exchanged, and the impossibility of hearing from home. 
 
august, 1862. 147 
 
 C, at the same time, got a letter from my brother. He 
 writes in good spirits about our affairs. Jackson's career is 
 glorious. The sick and wounded are doing well ; hospitals 
 are in good order, and the ladies indefatigable in nursing. 
 Surgeon-like, he tells more of the wounded than any thing 
 else. Rev. Mr. C. came up to-day, and gave us some 
 amusing incidents of Stuart's raid. As some of our men 
 rode by Mr. B's gate, several of them went in with Mr. 
 B's sons for a few moments. A dead Yankee lay at the 
 gate. Mrs. W. (Mrs. B's daughter) supposing he was only 
 wounded, ran out with restoratives to his assistance. While 
 standing there, two Yankees came up. Mrs. W. ordered 
 them to surrender, which one did without the slightest hesi- 
 tation, giving up his arms, which she immediately carried 
 in to her younger brother, who was badly armed. The other 
 escaped, but her prisoner went along with the crowd. 
 Yankee wagons are again taking off corn from W. The 
 men are very impertinent to C. 
 
 " 24th. — Yankee scouts are very busy around us to-day. 
 They watch this river, and are evidently fearing a flank 
 movement upon them. Wagons passing to Dr. N'a for 
 corn, guarded by Lancers, who are decidedly the worst speci- 
 mens we have seen. Compared with them, the regulars are 
 welcome guests. It is so strange that Colonel Rush, the 
 son of a distinguished man, whose mother belonged to one 
 of the first families in Maryland, the first-cousin of James 
 M. Mason, and Captain Mason of our navy, of Mrs. 
 General Cooper and Mrs. S. S. Lee, should consent to come 
 among his nearest of kin, at the head of ruffians like the 
 Lancers, to despoil and destroy our country ! I suppose that 
 living in Philadelphia has hardened his heart against us, for 
 the city of Brotherly Love is certainly more fierce towards 
 
148 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 us than any other. Boston cannot compare with it. This is 
 mortifying, because many of us had friends in Philadelphia, 
 whom we loved and admired. We hope and believe that 
 the Quaker element there is at the foundation of their ill- 
 will. 
 
 " 25th. — I got by chance a Philadelphia paper of the 20th. 
 Very little bragging, but an earnest appeal to their men to 
 be united, to forget that there will be any more presidential 
 elections, and to let squabbling among themselves alone; 
 that the critical time is at hand, etc. 
 
 "Friday, 21th. — The roar of cannon and musketry has 
 been incessant to-day; now as I sit in the yard it is terrific. 
 I doubt not that a general engagement is going on. 
 God! be with us now; nerve the hearts and strengthen the 
 arms of our menl Give wisdom and skill to our command- 
 ers, and grant us victory for thy great name's sake ! 
 
 " 28th. — We have just heard of our success, and that 
 Jackson and Ewell have come from the Valley, and hare 
 flanked the enemy on the Chickahominy. Two of our 
 troopers called in this morning. 
 
 "July 1st. — Firing continues, but lower and lower down. 
 No news from my dear boys. I wish, but dread, to hear. 
 
 " 2d. — My boys and nephews safe, God be praised! Mc- 
 Clellan in full retreat. C. and M. are sending off a wagon 
 with ice, chickens, bread, eggs, vegetables, etc., to our hos- 
 pital at Cold Harbor. 
 
 " July ith. — A beautiful, glorious day, and one which the 
 Yankees expected confidently to spend triumphantly in 
 Richmond. Last Fourth of July old General Scott ex- 
 pected to be there, to tread in triumph the fallen fortunes of 
 his quondam friends, and to-day McClellan has been obliged 
 to yield his visions of glory. ' Man proposes, but God dis- 
 
August, 1862. 149 
 
 poses.' Many of their companions in arms are there, in the 
 Libby and other prisons, wounded in the hospitals, and dead 
 in the swamps and marshes, or buried on the battle-fields 
 while the ' Grand Army' and the ' Young Napoleon' are 
 struggling desperately to get out of the bogs of the Chicka- 
 hominy to his gunboats on James River. I sent the carriage 
 to Richmond a day or two ago for Mr. N, but he writes 
 that he is sending it backwards and forwards to the battle- 
 fields for the wounded. It is a season of wide-spread dis- 
 tress; parties are going by constantly to seek their husbands, 
 brothers, sons, about whose fate they are uncertain. Some 
 old gentlemen passed yesterday, walking all the way from 
 Lancaster County. All the boats and bridges have been 
 destroyed on the rivers, and conveyances can't be put across. 
 Ladies are sent from river to river by those persons who 
 have conveyances and horses left to them. Oh, I trust that 
 blood enough has been spilled now! Dr. S. has just arrived; 
 he has been twenty miles below Richmond. He says the 
 Yankee dead still lie unburied in many places — our men are 
 too much worn out to undertake to bury them. The Yankee 
 hospitals, as well as our own, are all along the roads ; their 
 hospital flag is red ; ours is orange. They have their own 
 surgeons, and, of course, many delicacies that our men can't 
 have. The Northern papers speak of this retreat of Mc- 
 Clellan's as a 'strategic movement.' The bloody fights of 
 eight days, the retreat of thirty miles, attended by immense 
 loss of life, thousands of prisoners, many guns, stores 
 of all kinds, etc., a 'strategic movement!' But our loss 
 is heavy — so many valuable lives, and such suffering among 
 the wounded. God! interpose and stop this cruel war!" 
 
 I quote no further from Mrs. N's diary, as the next page 
 
150 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 was devoted to the visits of those dear ones whom God 
 had preserved amid strife and carnage. She mentions the 
 return of our dear W. B. N. from Port Delaware on the 
 5th of August, where he had been for several months. He 
 asked but five days' furlough to be with his family, and then 
 returned to his regiment, (Fourth Cavalry.) His reception 
 by his company was most gratifying. As soon as he got to 
 camp, it drew up in line, and requested him to come to the 
 front, when the " Orderly" came up, leading a very hand- 
 some bay horse, elegantly equipped, which he presented to 
 his " Captain," in the name of the company. 
 
 Lynchburg, September 2. — The papers to-day give 
 glorious news of a victory to our arms on the plains of 
 Manassas, on the 28th, 29th, and 30tb. I will give Gen- 
 eral Lee's telegram : 
 
 " Abmt of Northern Virginia, ) 
 
 Groveton, August 30 — 10 p. m. >■ 
 
 Via Rapidan. ) 
 
 " To President Davis : — This army achieved to-day, on 
 the plains of Manassas, a signal victory over the combined 
 forces of McClellan and Pope. On the 28th and 29th, 
 each wing, under Generals Longstreet and Jackson, re- 
 pulsed with valour attacks made on them separately. We 
 mourn the loss of our gallant dead in every conflict, yet 
 our gratitude to Almighty God for his mercies rises higher 
 each day. To Him and to the valour of our troops a 
 nation's gratitude is due. 
 
 (Signed) "R.E.Lee." 
 
 Nothing more to-day — my heart is full. The papers give 
 no news of the dead and wounded. The dreaded black-list 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1862. 151 
 
 yet to come. Iu the mean time we must let no evil fore- 
 bodings mar our joy and thankfulness. 
 
 M. — Wild stories on the street this morning, of the 
 capture of prisoners, killing of generals, etc. Burnside and 
 staff captured, they say. This last too good to be true. 
 
 ilh. — Our victory at Manassas complete; the fight lasted 
 four days. General Kearney was killed in a cavalry fight 
 at Chantilly. Beautiful Chantilly has become a glorious 
 battle-field. The splendid trees and other lovely surround- 
 ings all gone; but it is classic ground from this time. In 
 those fights I had eight nephews ! Are they all safe ? 
 I have heard from two, who fought gallantly, and are 
 unscathed. It is said that our army is to go to Mary- 
 land. 
 
 5th. — Our son J. arrived last night with quite a party, 
 his health greatly suffering from over-work in Richmond 
 during these exciting times. One of the party told me an 
 anecdote of General J. E. B. Stuart, which pleased me 
 greatly. Mrs. S. was in the cars, and near her sat a youth, 
 in all the pride of his first Confederate uniform, who had 
 attended General S. during his late raid as one of his guides 
 through his native county of Hanover. At one of the 
 water stations he was interesting the passengers by an 
 animated account of their hair-breadth escapes by flood and 
 field, and concluded by saying, " In all the tight places we 
 got into, I never heard the General swear an oath, and I 
 never saw him drink a drop." Mrs. S. was an amused 
 auditor of the excited narrative, and after the cars were in 
 motion she leaned forward, introduced herself to the boy, 
 and asked him if he knew the reason why General S. never 
 swears nor drinks; adding, "It is because he is a Christian 
 and loves God, and nothing will induce him to do what he 
 
152 DIARY OF A SOUTHERK REFUGEE. 
 
 thinks wroDg, and I want you and all his soldiers to follow 
 his example." 
 
 September 12. — No news from the army, except a letter 
 in the morning's paper speaking of General Lee's being 
 pleased with his reception in Maryland, and that our troops 
 are foraging in Pennsylvania. I hope so ; I like the idea of 
 our army subsisting on the enemy; they certainly hare sub* 
 sisted on us enough to be willing that we should return the 
 compliment. Took leave of our nephew, B. H. M., this 
 morning; he has been here on sick-leave, and has gone in 
 pursuit of his regiment, which is now across the Potomac. 
 Poor child I it was hard to see him go off alone, with his 
 child-like countenance and slender figure; but he is already 
 a veteran in the service, and has a most unflinching, un- 
 daunted spirit. 
 
 Took a ride this evening with Mrs. D. through the beau- 
 tiful environs of this city. After getting beyond the hospi- 
 tals, there was nothing to remind us of war; all was 
 peaceful loveliness ; we talked of days long passed, and 
 almost forgot that our land was the scene of bitter strife. 
 Sometimes I almost fancy that we are taking one of onf 
 usual summer trips, with power to return when it ter- 
 minates; and then I am aroused, as from a sweet dream, to 
 find myself a homeless wanderer, surrounded by horrors of 
 which my wildest fancy had never conceived a possibility, 
 in this Christian land and enlightened day. 
 
 Sunday. — Just returned from church. Mr. K. gave us 
 a delightful sermon on our dependence on God as a people. 
 " When Moses held up his hand, then Israel prevailed; and 
 when he let down his hand, then Amalek prevailed." Oh, 
 that our hands raay always be "held up" for our cause and 
 armies ! Next Thursday (1 8th) is the day appointed by our 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1862. 153 
 
 President as a day of thanksgiving for our successes. His 
 proclamation is so beautiful that I will copy it : 
 
 "To the People of the Confederate States: 
 
 " Once more upon the plains of Manassas have our armies 
 been blessed by the Lord of Hosts with a triumph over our 
 enemies. It is my privilege to invite you once more to His 
 footstool, not now in the garb of fasting and sorrow, but 
 with joy and gladness, to render thanks for the great mercies 
 received at His hands. A few months since our enemies 
 poured forth their invading legions upon our soil. They 
 laid waste our fields, polluted our altars, and violated the 
 sanctity of our homes. Around our capital they gathered 
 their forces, and with boastful threats claimed it as already 
 their prize. The brave troops which rallied to its defence 
 have extinguished their vain hopes, and under the guidance 
 of the same Almighty hand, have scattered our enemies and 
 driven them back in dismay. Uniting those defeated forces 
 and the various armies which had been ravaging our coasts 
 with the army of invasion in Northern Virginia, our enemies 
 have renewed their attempt to subjugate us at the very 
 place where their first effort was defeated, and the ven- 
 geance of retributive justice has overtaken their entire host 
 in a second and complete overthrow. To this signal success 
 accorded to our arms in the East has been graciously added 
 another, equally brilliant, in the West. On the very day 
 on which our forces were led to victory on the plains of 
 Manassas, in Virginia, the same Almighty arm assisted us 
 to overcome our enemies at Richmond, in Kentucky. Thus, 
 at one and the same time, have two great hostile armies 
 been stricken down, and the wicked designs of our enemies 
 set at naught. In such circumstances it is meet and right that, 
 
 7* 
 
154 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 as a people, we should bow down in adoring thankfulness 
 to that gracious God who has been our bulwark and defence, 
 and to offer unto Him the tribute of thanksgiving and praise. 
 In His hand is the issue of all events, and to Him should 
 we in a special manner ascribe the honour of this great 
 deliverance. Now, therefore, I, Jefferson Davis, President 
 of the Confederate States, do issue this, my proclamation 
 setting apart Thursday, the 18th day of September, as a 
 day of thanksgiving and prayer to Almighty God, for the 
 great mercies vouchsafed to our people, and more especially 
 for the triumph of our arms at Richmond and Manassas, in 
 Yirginia, and at Richmond in Kentucky; and I do hereby 
 invite the people of the Confederate States to meet on that 
 day, at their respective places of public worship, and to 
 unite in rendering thanks and praise to God for these great 
 mercies, and to implore Him to conduct our country safely 
 through the perils which surround us, to the final attain- 
 ment of the blessings of peace and security. 
 
 " Given under my hand and the seal of the Confederate 
 States, at Richmond, this fourth day of September, a. d. 
 1862. 
 
 "JEFF. DAVIS, Pres. of the 0. 8. 
 
 'J. P. BENJAMIN, Sec, of State." 
 
 Tuesday, September 16th.— The papers to-day give no 
 account of our army in Maryland. General Loring has been 
 successful in the Kanawha Valley, in driving the enemy, 
 taking prisoners, and 5,000 stand of arms, etc. Our success 
 in the West still continues. Kentucky is represented to be 
 in a flame of excitement. General Kirby Smith asks for 
 20,000 stand of arms to be sent him to arm Kentuckians, 
 who are rushing to his standard. Cincinnati preparing for 
 defence, etc. 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1862. 155 
 
 Yesterday I was surprised and delighted to see my nephew, 
 W. B. C. After passing through the bloody fight at 
 Manassas, he found he could not march into Maryland, in 
 consequence of the soreness of his wound received last 
 spring at Kernstown. He gives a graphic account of our 
 army's trials, tribulations, and successes at Manassas. Our 
 dear ones all passed safely through the fights. 
 
 Winchester once more disenthralled. My dear S. B. S. 
 about to return to her home there — but in what state will 
 she find it? When Jackson drove Banks down the Valley, 
 Dr. S., in passing through Winchester, stepped into the 
 open door of his house; found it had been Banks's head- 
 quarters ; the floors covered with papers torn up in haste ; 
 the remnant of the General's breakfast on the dining-room 
 table, and other unmistakable signs of a iscent and very 
 hurried departure. 
 
 September 18</i. — Thanksgiving-day for our victories! 
 We went to church this morning and heard Mr. K's 
 admirable sermon from 1st Sam., chap, vii., v. 12: "Then 
 Samuel took a stone, and set it between Mizpeh and Shen, 
 and called the name of it Ebenezer, saying, Hitherto hath 
 the Lord helped us.'' Oh! I trust that this day has been 
 observed throughout the Confederacy. If all our duties 
 were as easily performed, we should be very good Christians; 
 but, alas! our hearts are often heavy, and do not cheerfully 
 respond to the calls of duty. In prosperity, praise and 
 thanksgiving seem to rise spontaneously to our lips, but to 
 humble ourselves, and feel our entire dependence, is a much 
 more difficult duty. 
 
 Saturday, September 20tk. — An official account in the 
 morning's paper of the surrender of Harper's Ferry to our 
 men on Sunday last. Colonel Miles, the Federal commander, 
 
156 DIAEY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 surrendered, unconditionally, to General Jackson, 11,000 
 prisoners, 50 pieces of artillery, 12,000 stand of arms, 
 ammunition, quartermaster and commissary stores in large 
 quantities. McClellan attempted to come to the rescue of 
 Harper's Ferry. A courier was captured, sent by him to 
 Miles, imploring him to hold out until he could bring him 
 reinforcements. General Lee ordered General D. H. Hill 
 to keep McClellan in check, and, for this purpose, placed 
 him on the road near Boonesborongh. It is said that Mc- 
 Clellan had a force of 80,000 men, and that General Hill, 
 on Saturday and Sunday, kept him in check all day — Gen- 
 eral Longstreet getting up at night. Next day they 
 attacked him, repulsed and drove him five miles. The 
 details of the battle have not yet appeared. We have 
 further rumours of fighting, but nothing definite. It is 
 impossible for me to say how miserable we are about our 
 dear boys. 
 
 The body of Brigadier-General Garland was brought to 
 this, his native city, and his home, yesterday for interment. 
 He was killed in the battle near Boonesborough. This event 
 was a great shock to the community, where he was loved, 
 admired, and respected. His funeral yesterday evening was 
 attended by an immense concourse of mourning friends. It 
 made my heart ache, as a soldier's funeral always does. I 
 did not know him, but I know that he was "the only child 
 of his mother, and she is a widow ;" and I know, moreover, 
 that the country cannot spare her chivalric sons. 
 
 Monday Night, September 22d. — Probably the most 
 desperate battle of the war was fought last Wednesday 
 near Sharpsburg, Maryland. Great loss on both sides. 
 The Yankees claim a great victory, while our men do the 
 same. We were left in possession of the field on Wednes- 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1S62. 157 
 
 day night, and buried our dead on Thursday. Want of 
 food and other stores compelled our generals to remove our 
 forces to the Virginia side of the river, which they did on 
 Thursday night, without molestation. This is all I can 
 gather from the confused and contradictory accounts of the 
 newspapers. 
 
 2ith. — Still no official account of the Sharpsbuvg fight, 
 and no list of casualties. The Yankee loss in generals very' 
 great — they must have fought desperately. Reno, Mans- 
 field, and Miles were killed; others badly wounded. The 
 Yankee papers say that their loss of " field officers is un- 
 accountable;" and add, that but for the wounding of Gen- 
 eral Hooker, they would have driven us into the Potomac ! 
 
 2bt7i. — The tables were turned on Saturday, as we suc- 
 ceeded 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 com- 
 mand. The account of the Yankee slaughter is fearful. 
 As they were reerossing the river our caunon was suddenly 
 turned upon them. They were fording. The river is repre- 
 sented 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. T>., 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," 
 
158 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 with every danger of having them read, and perhaps pub- 
 lished by the enemy. How, in the still beautiful but much 
 injured Yalley, they do rejoice in their freedom ! Their 
 captivity — for surrounded as they were by implacable 
 enemies, 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, play- 
 ing upon them all the while. What was their relief, there- 
 fore, 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 valu- 
 able lives, and giving us a grand success. May they ever 
 be thus minded ! 
 
 BOth. — The Ekhmond Examiner of yesterday contains 
 Lincoln's Proclamation, declaring all the negroes free from 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1862. 159 
 
 the 1st of January next ! The Abolition papers are in 
 ecstasies ; as if they did not know that it can only be 
 carried out ivithin 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 conld convince them of the wickedness 
 of this contest 1 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, 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 Rich- 
 mond 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 se- 
 vere. 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 occu- 
 pied as barracks, and ours as a hospital. Miss had accom- 
 
160 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 panied our friend Mrs. there one day during the last win- 
 ter; it was used as a hospital, except the front rooms, which 
 were occupied by General N. (a renegade Virginian) as head- 
 quarters. Can it be that any native of Yirginia can be un- 
 true to her now ? Let General Scott, General Newton, 
 and Captain Fairfax answer 1 General K married a North- 
 ern wife, which mast 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 in- 
 quired for Mrs. N. She was out, and they determined to 
 walk over the house, that they might see the state of onr 
 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. K, 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 to- 
 gether, and covered, in another room. The weather was 
 
OCTOBER, 1862. 161 
 
 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 comfort- 
 able." 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 wonder- 
 
 ingly ! 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] 
 
 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 fiue spirits. We leave Lynchburg to-mor- 
 row, and after spending a few days with our friends at 
 the University, proceed to Richmond and Ashland. 
 
 3c?. — University op 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 
 oan only hear from home when our army finds it convenient 
 to clear "The Valley" of invaders. One of her sous, 
 dear R., was ordered last winter, by Gentral Jackson, to 
 
162 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 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, and which, if effectu- 
 ally broken^ would prevent the Yankees using it for trans- 
 portation — (this dam also worked his mother's mill.) 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 Mary- 
 land shore. In the dead hour of the winter's night did 
 some of the first gentlemen's sons in the South, who hap- 
 pened 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 baud fell ! Not- 
 withstanding 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 
 
OCTOBER, 1862. 163 
 
 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 com- 
 fortable. 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 pa- 
 tients — 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 
 
164 DIARY OP A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 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 trap- 
 pings, my heart sank within me, as I remembered that 'twas 
 but as yesterday that this child, with his pictured 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 askinw 
 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 his- 
 tory, what horrors might have come! 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. 
 
 W., Hanover County, October 6th. — We left the Uni- 
 versity 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, com- 
 pared 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 Sharps- 
 burg. As a surgeon, his personal danger has not beeu so 
 great as that of others, but he has passed through scenes 
 
OCTOBER, 1862. 165 
 
 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 youug 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 ? 0, 
 God, spare our sonsl Our friend, Dr. T., of this neighbour- 
 hood, 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 in- 
 ducements 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 1 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. 
 
 8th. — Mr. N. joined us this morning, and we all gathered 
 
166 DIAEY OF A SOUTHERN KEFUGEE. 
 
 here for the day. It seemed so much like old times, that C. 
 broke a war rule, and gave us pound-cake for supper. 
 
 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! 
 
 10th. — Bad news! The papers bring an account of the 
 defeat of our army at Corinth. It was commanded by 
 General Van Born — the Federals by Kosecranz. 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 rein- 
 forcements, which the Yankees do in such numbers, is ruin- 
 ous 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. 
 
 Richmond, October 15th. — Yesterday morning my sister 
 M., J. W., and myself, drove up from W. to the depot, 
 seven miles, ia a wagon, with four mules. It was a charm- 
 ing morning, and we had a delightful ride; took the accom- 
 modation cars at twelve and arrived here at two. We drove 
 to the Exchange, and were delighted to find there our dear J. 
 Mel. 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 
 
OCTOBER, 1862. 167 
 
 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 hus- 
 band 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 pro- 
 cession — an officer's funeral. As it passed under the bal- 
 cony she called to a passer-by : " Whose funeral is that V 
 " 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 imagina- 
 tion. 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 
 
168' DIARY OF A SOUTHERK REFUGEE. 
 
 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. 
 
 Ashland, October 19. — We are now snugly fixed in Ash- 
 land. Our mess consists of Bishop J. and family, Major J. 
 and wife, Lieutenant J. J. and wife (our daughter,) Mrs. S. 
 
 and daughter, of Chantilly, Mr. , myself, and our two 
 
 young daughters — a goodly number for a cottage with eight 
 small rooms ; but we are very comfortable. All from one 
 neighbourhood, all refugees, and none able to do better, we 
 are determined to take every thing cheerfully. Many 
 remarks are jestingly made suggestive of unpleasant colli- 
 sions among so many families in one house; but we antici- 
 pate no evils of that kind; each has her own place, and her 
 own duties to perform; the young married ladies of the 
 establishment are by common consent to have the house- 
 keeping troubles; their husbands are to be masters, with the 
 onerous duties of caterers, treasurers, etc. We old ladies 
 have promised to give our sage advice and experience, 
 whenever it is desired. The girls will assist their sisters, 
 with their nimble fingers, in cases of emergency; and the 
 clerical gentlemen are to have their own way, and to do 
 their own work without let or hindrance. All that is re- 
 quired of them is, that they shall be household chaplains, 
 
 and that Mr. shall have service every Sunday at the 
 
 neglected village church. With these discreet regulations, 
 we confidently expect a most pleasant and harmonious 
 establishment. Our young gentlemen are officers stationed 
 in Richmond. Mr. and themselves go in every morn- 
 
NOVEMBER, 1862. 169 
 
 ing in the cars, after an early breakfast, and return .to 
 dinner at five o'clock. J. J. and myself have free tickets 
 to go on the cars to attend to our hospital duties. T go in 
 twice a -week for that purpose. 
 
 A dispatch just received from General Bragg, claiming a 
 signal victory at Perry ville; but in consequence of the arri- 
 val of large reinforcements to the enemy, he had fallen back 
 to Cumberland Gap. These victories without permanent 
 results do us no good, and so much blood is spilled. There 
 seems to be a revolution going on at the North. Ohio, 
 Indiana, and Pennsylvania have given the Democrats a 
 large majority for Congress ! So may it be ! 
 
 November 4. — A letter from my dear S. at Winchester. 
 She says she is wearing herself down in the Confederate 
 service; but there are so many soldiers in the hospitals that 
 she is too much interested to give up nursing them even for 
 a day. Our army still at Bunker's Hill. "We are expecting 
 daily to hear that it is falling back. When they leave the 
 Valley all the sick that can be moved will be brought down 
 to the Richmond hospitals, which are now comparatively 
 empty. 
 
 November 7. — The snow falling rapidly — the trees and 
 shrubs in full leaf, and the rose-bushes, in bright bloom, are 
 borne down by the snow. Our poor soldiers ! What are 
 they to do to-night, without shelter, and without blankets ? 
 Everybody seems to be doing what they can to supply their 
 wants ; many persons are having carpets made into soldiers' 
 blankets. My brother J. told me that he had every chamber 
 carpet in the house, except one, converted into coverlets; 
 and this is by no means a singular instance. A number of 
 coverlets, made of the most elegant Brussels carpeting, were 
 sent by Mr. B., of Halifax County, the other day, to our 
 
170 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 hospital, with a request to Miss T. that blankets should be 
 given from the hospital to the camp, as more easily trans- 
 ported from place to place, and the carpeting retained in 
 the hospital. This was immediately done. The blankets 
 that could be spared from private houses were given last 
 winter. How it gladdens my heart when I see that a vessel 
 has run the blockade, and arrived safely at some Southern 
 port, laden with ammunition, arms, and clothing for the 
 army ! The Bishop and J. have just left as, for the council 
 of the Southern Church, to meet at Augusta, Georgia. Oh 
 that their proceedings may be directed by the All-wise Coun. 
 sellor ! 
 
 12th. — Spent yesterday at the hospital — very few patients. 
 Our army iu the Valley falling back; and the two armies 
 said to be very near each other, and much skirmishing. 
 Our dear W. B. N. had his horse shot under him a few days 
 ago. This is fearful. Our country is greatly afflicted, and 
 our dear ones in great peril; but the Lord reigneth — He, 
 who stilleth the raging of the seas, can surely save us from 
 our enemies and all that hate us — to Him do we look for 
 help. 
 
 A Baltimore paper of the 11th gives an account of 
 McClellan having been superseded by Burnside. We are 
 delighted at this, for we believe McC. to be the better 
 general of the two. It is said that he was complained of 
 by Halleck for not pushing the army on, and preventing the 
 capture of Harper's Ferry and the 11,000. McC. knew it 
 could not be done, for he had General Jackson to oppose 
 him ! His removal was an unexpected blow to the North, 
 producing great excitement. Oh that the parties there 
 would fight among themselves ! The Northern papers are 
 insisting upon another "On to Richmond," and hint that 
 
NOVEMBER, 1S62. 171 
 
 McC. was too slow about every thing. The " Young 
 Napoleon" has fallen from his high estate, and returns to his 
 family at Trenton ! The Yankees are surely an absurd 
 race, to say the least of them. At one moment extolling 
 their generals as demi-gods, the next hurling them to the 
 dust — none so poor as to do them reverence. " General 
 McClellan is believed to have passed through Washington 
 last night," is the announcement of a late Yankee paper, 
 of the idol of last week. 
 
 18^A. — Another raid upon Fredericksburg; much mischief 
 done ! They are preparing for a second evacuation of the 
 town ! The number of refugees will be greatly increased, 
 and where are they to go ? Poor homeless wanderers, 
 leaving business and the means of support to the mercy of 
 a vindictive soldiery ! 
 
 Letters from our Yalley friends taking leave of us, 
 written some time ago, when the enemy were again closing 
 around them. "We are very anxious about them. Their 
 situation is becoming pitiable ; every new set of troops 
 help themselves to whatever suits their fancy — stock of all 
 sorts, grain, meat, every thing valuable and portable 1 
 Silver, glass, china, has to be buried, and very adroitly, or 
 it is found. Some of the servants are very unfaithful, and 
 let the enemy in to the most private places. There are some 
 honourable exceptions to this last remark. Our relative, 
 Mr. P., has moved below the mountains for security; but 
 he was in the habit, when at home, of intrusting every thing 
 to his house-servant, including his wine and ardent spirits — 
 and it was all kept sacredly — the master knew not where ; 
 but on each, departure of the enemy every thing would be 
 returned to its accustomed place, in good order. 
 
 November 23. — Poor Fredericksburg ! The enemy on 
 
172 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 the Stafford side of the river in force ; their cannon planted 
 on the hills. Day before yesterday they demanded the sur- 
 render of the town, which was declined by General Lee. 
 They then threatened to shell it, at nine o'clock this morning; 
 but it is now night and it has not been done. It is hourly 
 expected, however, and women and children are being hurried 
 off, leaving every thing behind, except what they can get 
 off in bundles, boxes, etc. There is no transportation for 
 heavy articles. The Vandals threw a shell at a train of 
 cars filled with women and children. It burst very near 
 them, but they were providentially protected. A battle is 
 daily expected. In the mean time the sufferings of wander- 
 ing women and children are very great. 
 
 November 25. — Just from the depot. The cars have 
 gone to Richmond, filled with non-combatants from Fred- 
 ericksburg — ladies, with their children, many of whom 
 know not where to go. They will get to Richmond after 
 dark, and many propose staying in the cars this cold night, 
 and seeking a resting-place to-morrow. The feeling of 
 desolation among them is dreadful. Oh, how I wish that 
 I had even one room to offer I The bombardment has not 
 commenced, but General Lee requested last night that 
 the women and children who had not gone should go with- 
 out delay. This seems to portend hot work. 
 
 29th. — Nothing of importance from the army. The 
 people of Fredericksburg suffering greatly from the sudden 
 move. I know a family, accustomed to every luxury at 
 home, now in a damp basement-room in Richmond. The 
 mother and three young daughters cooking, washing, etc. ; 
 the father, a merchant, is sick and cut off from business, 
 friends, and every thing else. Another family, consisting of 
 mother and four daughters, in one room, supported by the 
 
NOVEMBER, 1862. 1Y3 
 
 work of one of the daughters who has an office in the Note- 
 Signing Department. To keep starvation from the house is 
 all that they can do ; their supplies in Fredericksburg can't 
 be brought to them — no transportation. I cannot mention 
 the numbers who are similarly situated ; the country is 
 filled with them. Country houses, as usual, show a mar- 
 vellous degree of elasticity. A small house accommodating 
 any number who may apply ; pallets spread on the floor; 
 every sofa and couch sheeted for visitors of whom they 
 never heard before. If the city people would do more in 
 that way, there would be less suffering. Every cottage in 
 this village is full ; and now families are looking with wistful 
 eyes at the ball-room belonging to the hotel, which, it seems 
 to me, might be partitioned off to accommodate several 
 families. The billiard-rooms are taken, it is said, though 
 not yet occupied. But how everybody is to be supported 
 is a difficult question to decide. Luxuries have been 
 given up long ago, by many persons. Coffee is $4 per 
 pound, and good tea from $18 to $20 ; butter ranges from 
 $1.50 to $2 per pound; lard 50 cents ; corn $15 per bar- 
 rel; and wheat $4.50 per bushel. We can't get a mus- 
 lin dress for less than $6 or $8 per yard ; calico $1.15, 
 etc. This last is no great hardship, for we will all resort to 
 homespun. We are knitting our own stockings, and regret 
 that we did not learn to spin and weave. The North Caro- 
 lina homespun is exceedingly pretty, and makes a genteel 
 dress ; the only difficulty is in the dye ; the colours are 
 pretty, but we have not learned the art of setting the wood 
 colours ; but we are improving in that art too, and when 
 the first dye fades, we can dip them again in the dye. 
 
 30<A. — The Yankee army ravaging Stafford County dread- 
 fully, but they do not cross the river. Burnside, with the 
 
174 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 " greatest army on the planet," is quietly waiting and watch- 
 ing our little band on the opposite side. Is he afraid to 
 venture over ? His " On to Richmond" seems slow. 
 
 December 10. — Just returned from a visit of a week to 
 my old friend Mrs. C. Her home in Richmond is the very 
 picture of comfort and hospitality ; having wealth, she 
 uses it freely, in these troublous times, for the comfort of 
 others. If all hearts were as large as hers, there would be 
 no refugees in garrets and cellars. I was touched by her 
 
 attention to Mr. , whom she had always seen engaged 
 
 in his duties as a minister of the Gospel. She seemed to 
 think it a kind of sacrilege to see him employed from nine 
 until four o'clock in the duties of his secular office, and 
 " to think of his reverend and hoary head bending over a 
 clerk's desk;" she would say : " Oh, what awful times!" I 
 told her that she must not think of it in that light ; that 
 he had been greatly blessed to get the office, which sup- 
 ported us so much better than many other refugees. While 
 talking this way, she would be suiting the action to the 
 word, by rolling up a most delightful chair to the fire, placing 
 a small table before it, ready for some nice refreshment 
 when he returned. It is trying to see him work so hard for 
 our support, in his delicate state of health. The girls and 
 myself are very anxious to get work from Government, 
 signing notes, copying — any thing to assist in supporting 
 ourselves ; but we have tried in vain, and I suppose it is 
 right, for there are so many widows and orphans who have 
 a much higher claim to any thing that Government can do 
 for them. We have heard heavy firing to-day. The car pas- 
 sengers report that there is skirmishing near Port Eoyal. 
 
 13d/j. — Our hearts are full of apprehension ! A battle 
 is going on at or near Fredericksburg. The Federal army 
 
DECEMBER, 1802. 175 
 
 passed over the river on their pontoons night before last. 
 They attempted to throw the bridges over it at three places; 
 from two of these they were driven back with much slaugh- 
 ter; at the third they crossed. Our army was too small 
 to guard all points. The firing is very heavy and incessant. 
 We hear it with terrible distinctness from our portico. God 
 of mercy, be with our people, and drive back the invaders ! 
 I ask not for their destruction; but that they may be driven 
 to their own homes, never more to put foot on our soil 
 again; that we may enjoy the sweets of peace and security 
 once more. Our dear boys — now as ever — -I commit them 
 into Thy hands ! 
 
 Night. — Passengers report heavy skirmishing before they 
 left Fredericksburg this morning, but cannonading tells us 
 of bloody work since. A few wounded men were carried 
 by to-night. We went to the depot to see if there were any 
 particular friends among them, but found none. 
 
 lith. — Firing in the direction of Fredericksburg re- 
 newed this morning, but at irregular intervals. Telegraph 
 wires are cut. No news except from passengers in the 
 trains. The cars are not allowed to go to the town, but 
 stop at a point some miles below. They report that every 
 thing goes on well. for us, of which we were sure, from the 
 receding sound of the cannon. Praise the Lord, my 
 soul, and all that is within me praise His holy name ! How 
 can we be thankful enough for such men as General Lee, 
 General Jackson, and our glorious army, rank and file ! 
 
 Nine o' Clock at Night. — A sad, sad train passed down 
 a short time ago, bearing the bodies of Generals Cobb, of 
 Georgia, and Maxcy Gregg, of South Carolina. Two no- 
 ble spirits have thus passed away from us. Peace to their 
 honoured remains! The gentlemen report many wounded on 
 
176 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 the train, but not very severely. I fear it has been another 
 bloody Sabbath. The host of wounded will pass to-mor- 
 row; we must be up early to prepare to administer to their 
 comfort. The sound of cannon this evening was much more 
 distant, and not constant enough for a regular fight. We 
 are victorious again ! Will they now go from our shores 
 forever ? We dread to hear of the casualties. Who may 
 not be among the wounded to-morrow ? 
 
 Ibth. — An exciting day. Trains have been constantly 
 passing with the wounded for the Richmond hospitals. 
 Every lady, every child, every servant in the village, has 
 been engaged preparing and carrying food to the wounded 
 as the cars stopped at the depot — coffee, tea, soup, milk, 
 and every thing we could obtain. With eager eyes and 
 beating hearts we watched for those most dear to us. Some- 
 times they were so slightly injured as to sit at the windows 
 and answer our questions, which they were eager to do. 
 They exult in the victory. I saw several poor fellows shot 
 through the mouth — they only wanted milk; it was sooth- 
 ing and cooling to their lacerated flesh. One, whom I did 
 not see, had both eyes shot out. But I cannot write of the 
 horrors of this day. Nothing but an undying effort to ad- 
 minister to their comfort could have kept us up. The 
 Bishop was with us all day, and the few gentlemen who re- 
 mained in the village. When our gentlemen came home at 
 five o'clock they joined us, and were enabled to do what we 
 could not — walk through each car, giving comfort as they 
 went. The gratitude of those who were able to express it 
 was so touching! They said that the ladies were at every 
 depot with refreshments. As the cars would move off, those 
 who were able would shout their blessings on the ladies of 
 Virginia : " We will fight, we will protect the ladies of Vir- 
 
DECEMBER, 1S62. 177 
 
 ginia." Ah, poor fellows, what cau the ladies of Virginia 
 ever do to compensate theni for all they have done and suf- 
 fered for us ? As a train approached late this evening, 
 we saw comparatively very few sitting up. It was im- 
 mediately surmised that it contained the desperately 
 wounded — perhaps many of the dead. With eager eyes 
 we watched, and before it stopped I saw Surgeon J. P. 
 Smith (my connection) spring from the platform, and come 
 towards me; my heart stood still. " What is it, Doctor ? 
 Tell me at once." "Your nephews, Major B. and Cap- 
 tain C, are both on the train, dangerously wounded." 
 " Mortally ?" " We hope not. You will not be allowed to 
 enter the car; come to Richmond to-morrow morning; B. 
 will be there for you to nurse. I shall carry W. C. on 
 the morning cars to his mother at the University. We 
 will do our best for both." In a moment he was gone. 
 Of course I shall go down in the early cars, and devote 
 my life to B. until his parents arrive. I am writing now 
 because I can't sleep, and must be occupied. The cars 
 passed on, and we filled our pitchers, bowls and baskets, 
 to be ready for others. We cannot yield to private feel- 
 ings now; they may surge up and rush through our hearts 
 until they almost burst them, but they must not over- 
 whelm us. We must do our duty to our country, and it 
 can't be done by nursing our own sorrows. 
 
 8* 
 
18 6 3. 
 
 January 8th. — On the 16th of December, the day after 
 the last entry in my diary, I went to Richmond, and found 
 B. B. at the house of Mr. P., on Grace Street, surrounded 
 by luxury, and the recipient of unnumbered kindnesses; but 
 so desperately ill 1 The surgeons had been up all night iu 
 the various hospitals, and, as numerous as they were, they 
 were sadly deficient in numbers that night. The benevo- 
 lent Dr. Bolton had taken his wife and her sister, who had 
 learned the art of binding up wounds, to his hospital, and 
 all night long they had been engaged most efficiently in 
 their labour of love. Other ladies were engaged in offices 
 of mercy. Women who had been brought up surrounded 
 by the delicacies and refinements of the most polished so- 
 ciety, and who would have paled at the sight of blood un- 
 der other circumstances, were bathing the most frightful 
 gashes, while others were placing the bandages. I found 
 B. suffering the most intense agony, and Mrs. P. agitated 
 and anxious. No surgeon could be obtained for private 
 houses. I sent for one, who was not an army surgeon, to 
 come at once. He sent me word that he had been up all 
 night, and had just retired. Again I sent to implore him 
 to come; in five minutes he was there. He told me at once 
 that his situation was critical in the extreme; the Minie ball 
 had not been extracted; he must die, if not soon relieved. 
 He wanted assistance — another surgeon. To send in pur- 
 suit of Dr. Gibson for my brother, then stationed at Camp 
 
January, 1863. 179 
 
 Winder, and to telegraph for his father, occupied but a few 
 moments; but the surgeons could not come. Hour after 
 hour I sat by him. To cut off his bloody clothes, and re- 
 place them by fresh ones, and to administer the immense 
 doses of morphine, was all that Mrs. P. and myself could 
 do. At dark, Surgeons G. and B., accompanied by my 
 brother, arrived. They did what they could, but considered 
 the case hopeless. His uncle, General C, arrived, to our 
 great relief. He joined us in nursing him during the night. 
 The cars were constantly coming in. Shouts of victory 
 and wails for the dead were strangely blended. I was glad 
 that I did not hear during that dreadful night that 
 the body of that bright, beautiful boy, that young 
 Christian hero, Randolph Fairfax, had been brought to 
 town. The father, mother, sisters ! — can they bear the 
 blighting stroke ? The hope, the pride, almost the idol of 
 the family, thus suddenly cut downl We, too, mourn him. 
 dead, as we had loved and admired him living. We had 
 watched his boyhood and youth, the gradual development 
 of that brilliant mind and lofty character. His Christian 
 parents are bowed down, but not crushed; their future on 
 earth is clouded; but by faith they see his abundant en- 
 trance into the kingdom of heaven, his glorious future, and 
 are comforted. Another young Christian soldier of the 
 same battery was shot down about the same moment — our 
 young friend David Barton, of Winchester. Three months 
 ago his parents buried their oldest son, who fell nobly de- 
 fending his native town, and now their second has passed 
 into heaven. The Church mourns him as one who was 
 about to devote his life to her sacred cause, but who 
 felt it his duty to defend her against the hosts who are 
 desecrating her hallowed precincts. How many, oh, how 
 
180 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 many of the young soldiers of the Cross are obliged to 
 take up carual weapons, to " save from spoil that sacred 
 place 1" Poor fellows! their life's blood oozes out in a great 
 cause. But our church ! 
 
 " Will she ever lift her head 
 From dust, and darkness, and the dead?" 
 
 Yes, the time is at hand when she, our Southern Church, 
 shall 
 
 " Put all her "beauteous garments on, 
 And let her excellence be known. 
 Decked in the robes of righteousness, 
 The world her glory shall confess. 
 
 " No more shall foes unclean invade 
 And fill her hallowed walls with dread ; 
 No more shall hell's insulting host 
 Their victory and thy sorrows boast." 
 
 The churches of Fredericksburg suffered dreadfully during 
 the bombardment. Some were torn to pieces. Our dear 
 old St. George's suffered very little; but a shell burst 
 through her revered walls, and her steeple was broken by a 
 passing shot. She stands a monument of Vandalism, 
 though still a Christian chapel, from which the Gospel will, 
 I trust, be poured forth for many years, when we shall no 
 longer be surrounded by those who cry, " Raze it, raze it, 
 even to the foundations thereof." 
 
 But to return to my patient. After days and nights of 
 watching, I left him improving, and in the hands of his 
 parents. The physicians seem still doubtful of the result, 
 but I am full of hope. The ball, after much difficulty, was 
 extracted, since which time he has gradually improved; but 
 his sufferings have been indescribable. W. B. C. is also 
 
JANUARY, 1863. 181 
 
 slowly convalescing. One night while sitting up with B., 
 together with a surgeon and General C, when we had not 
 been able to raise him up for two days, we were startled by 
 his springing from the bed in agony, and running to the fire; 
 the surgeon (his uncle) gently put his arm around him and 
 laid him on the couch. I hastened to the bed to make it 
 comfortable; but it was so large that I could not raise it 
 up; at last I called out, " General, help me to make up this 
 bed; come quickly 1" In an instant the large feather bed 
 was grasped by him with strength and skill, turned over 
 and beaten thoroughly, the mattrass replaced; then to help 
 mo to spread the sheets, smooth the pillows, etc., was the 
 work of a moment. The patienj was replaced in bed and 
 soothed to sleep. Not till then did I remember that my 
 companion in making the bed was one who but a short time 
 before had led his brigade in the hottest of the fight, and 
 would, perhaps, do it again and again. I complimented him 
 on his versatility of talent, and a pleasant laugh ensued. 
 During the Christmas holidays, while most anxious about 
 our wounded, a letter from Kentucky reached us, announcing 
 the death of my lovely niece, Mrs. K. As soon as her 
 home on the Mississippi became surrounded by the enemy, 
 she was obliged to leave it. She then joined her husband, 
 who is on General Breckinridge's staff, and stationed near 
 Knoxville. As her health was very delicate, she determined, 
 as soon as General B. was ordered off, to attempt to get to 
 her mother in Kentucky; her husband placed her in the 
 care of an elderly physician and friend, who accompanied 
 her in a carriage across the mountains, as the public convey- 
 ances between those hostile regions are, of course, discon- 
 tinued. Before she had travelled many days she was 
 compelled to stop at a small house on the roadside, and 
 
182 DIAKY OF A SOUTHEEN REFUGEE. 
 
 there, with much kindness from the hostess, and from her 
 travelling companion, but none of the comforts to which she 
 had been accustomed, she suffered intensely for many days, 
 and then attempted to go on. She reached Georgetown, 
 Kentucky, which was her summer home; her mother was 
 telegraphed for, and reached her just three days before she 
 breathed her last. Dear H.! another victim of the war; as 
 much so as was her brother, who received his mortal wound 
 at Dranesville, or her brother-in-law, who was shot through 
 the heart at Pea Ridge. Her poor mother deemed it a blessed 
 privilege to be able to be with her in her dying hour; a com- 
 fort which she did not experience after her long trip to see 
 her son. I fear she will sink under accumulated misfortunes; 
 cut off as she is from all that makes life bearable under 
 such circumstances. During the campaign of last summer 
 around Richmond, she describes her feelings as being anxious 
 and nervous beyond expression. She heard nothing but 
 threats against us, and braggadocio, until she believed that 
 we must be crushed; the many Southerners around her 
 could not express their feelings except in subdued whispers. 
 The Cincinnati and Covington papers expressed their con- 
 fidence of success. Each day she would go to Cincinnati to 
 hear the news, and come back depressed; but on the sixth 
 day after the battles commenced, as she took her usual 
 morning walk, she observed that the crowd around the 
 telegraph office was more quiet than usual. As she 
 approached, "curses, not loud, but deep," reached her ear. 
 Hope dawned upon her subdued spirit. " Is there any thing 
 thfe matter?" she asked, meekly, of the first gentlemanly- 
 looking man she saw. "The matter!" he exclaimed. " Oh! 
 madam, we are defeated. McClellan is retreating down 
 the river towards Harrison's Landing. I don't know where 
 
January, 1863. 183 
 
 that is, but we are shamefully beaten." She did not allow 
 herself to speak, but rapidly wended her way home, her 
 face bathed in tears of thankfulness, and singing the Gloria 
 in Excelsis. 
 
 Several days ago General Bragg reported a victory at 
 Mnrfreesboro', Tennessee. There was certainly a victory on 
 the first day, as 4,000 prisoners were secured, with thirty-one 
 pieces of cannon, and sent to Chattanooga. On the third 
 day the enemy were reinforced, and our army was obliged to 
 fall back. A friend remarked that the Bragg victories 
 never seem to do us much good. The truth is, the Western 
 Yankees fight much better than the Eastern, and outnumber 
 us fearfully. They claim the victory, but acknowledge the 
 loss of 30.000 men. It must have been a most severe con- 
 flict. At Vicksburg they have made another attack, and 
 been repulsed ; and yet another misfortune for them was 
 the sinking of their brag gun-boat Monitor. It went down 
 off Cape Hatteras. In Philadelphia the negroes and 
 Abolitionists celebrated the 1st of January with mad 
 demonstrations of delight, as the day on which Lincoln's 
 proclamation to abolish slavery would take effect. In 
 Norfolk the negroes were deluded by the Abolitionists into 
 great excitement. Speeches were made, encouraging them 
 to take up arms against their masters! Hale has offered a 
 resolution in the Northern Congress to raise two hundred 
 regiments of negroes ! The valiant knight, I hope, will be 
 generalissimo of the corps. He is worthy of the position ! 
 
 l%th. — Just returned from Richmond. B's situation still 
 precarious, and I am obliged to stay with him a great deal. 
 I see a number of officers and other gentlemen in his room ; 
 they seem to be in fine spirits about the country. Our 
 President's Message has been enthusiastically received. It 
 
184 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 is a noble production, worthy of its great author. I think 
 the European public must contrast it with the Northern 
 " Message'' most favourably to us. 
 
 Several friends have just arrived from Tankeedom in a 
 vessel fitted out by the Northern Government to receive 
 the exchanged prisoners. About six hundred women and 
 children were allowed to come in it from Washington. 
 They submitted to the most humiliating search, before they 
 left the wharf, from men and women. The former searched 
 their trunks, the latter their persons. Mrs. Hale, of Cali- 
 fornia, and the wife of Senator Harlan, of Iowa, presided 
 at the search. Dignified and lady-like ! One young friend 
 of mine was bringing five pairs of shoes to her sisters; they 
 were taken as contraband. A friend brought me one ponnd 
 of tea; this she was allowed to do; but woe betide the 
 bundle of more than one pound ! Some trunks were sadly 
 pillaged if they happened to contain more clothes than the 
 Northern Government thought proper for a rebel to pos- 
 sess. No material was allowed to come which was not 
 made into garments. My friend brought me some pocket- 
 handkerchiefs and stockings, scattered in various parts of 
 the trunk, so as not to seem to have too many. She 
 brought her son, who is in our service, a suit of clothes 
 made into a cloak which she wore. Many a gray cloth 
 travelling-dress and petticoat which was on that boat is 
 now in camp, decking the person of a Confederate soldier; 
 haviDg undergone a transformation into jackets and pants. 
 The searchers found it a troublesome business; not the least 
 assistance did they get from the searched. The ladies would 
 take their seats, and put out first one foot and then 
 the other to the Yankee woman, who would pull off the 
 shoes and stockings — not a pin would they remove, not a 
 
JANUARY, 1863. 185 
 
 string untie. The fare of the boat was miserable, served 
 in tin plates and cups; but, as it was served gratis, the 
 "Bebs" had no right to complain, and they reached Dixie 
 in safety, bringing many a contraband article, notwithstaud 
 ing the search. 
 
 The hated vessel " Harriet Lane," which, like the Pawnee, 
 seemed to be ubiquitous, has been captured near Galveston 
 by General Magrnder. Its commander, Captain Wain- 
 wright, and others were killed. Captain W. was most inti- 
 mately connected with our relatives in the " Valley," having 
 married in Clarke County. He wrote to them in the begin- 
 ning of the war, to give them warning of their danger. 
 He spoke of the power of the North and the impotency of 
 the South. He thought that we would be subjugated in 
 a few months — little did he anticipate his own fate, or that 
 of his devoted fleet. 
 
 19<A. — Colonel Bradley Johnson has been with us for 
 some days. He is nephew to Bishop J., and as bright and 
 agreeable in private as he is bold and dashing in the field. 
 Our little cottage has many pleasant visitors, and I think 
 we are as cheerful a family circle as the Confederacy can 
 boast. We are very much occupied by our Sunday- 
 schools — white in the morning, and coloured in the after- 
 noon. In the week we are often busy, like the "cotter's'' wife, 
 in making " auld claes look amaist as weel as new." " New 
 claes" are not attainable at present high prices ; we are 
 therefore likely to become very ingenious in fixing up " auld 
 anes." My friend who lately arrived from Washington 
 looked on very wonderingly when she saw us all ready for 
 church. " Why, how genteel you look !" at last broke from 
 • her; "I had no idea of it. We all thought of you as suf- 
 fering in every respect." I told her that the Southern 
 
186 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 women were as ingenious as the men were brave; and while 
 we cared little for dress during such anxious times, yet 
 when our husbands and sons returned from the field we 
 preferred that their homes should be made attractive, and 
 that they should not be pained by the indifferent appearance 
 of their wives, sisters, and mothers. She was still more 
 surprised by the neatly fitting, prettily made dresses of 
 Southern manufacture. " Are they of Virginia cloth ?" she 
 asked. No, poor old Virginia has no time or opportunity 
 for improving her manufactures, while almost her whole 
 surface is scarred and furrowed by armies; but Georgia and 
 North Carolina are doing much towards clothing the first 
 ladies in the land. Sister M. has just improved my ward- 
 robe by sending me a black alpaca dress, bought from a 
 Potomac blockade-runner. We, ever and anon, are assisted 
 in that way: sometimes a pound of tea, sometimes a pair of 
 gloves, is snugged away in a friendly pocket, and after many 
 dangers reaches us, and meets a hearty welcome; and what 
 is more important still, medicine is brought in the same way, 
 having escaped the eagle eyes of Federal watchers. A lady 
 in Richmond said laughingly to a friend who was about to 
 make an effort to go to Baltimore, " Bring me a pound of 
 tea and a hoop-skirt;" and after a very short absence he 
 appeared before her, with the tea in one hand and the skirt 
 in the other. It is pleasant to see how cheerfully the girls 
 fall into habits of economy, and occupy themselves in a way 
 of which we never dreamed before. 
 
 January 23. — The gentlemen had their friend, General 
 Lovell, to spend last night with them. I was sorry not to 
 be able to see more of him, as I was too sick to remain in 
 the parlour, having been occupied night and day with my dear 
 B., who has been again very dangerously ill, with erysipelas 
 
FEBEDAEY, 1863. 187 
 
 in his wound. We are troubled about our son J., who has 
 just been ordered to North Carolina; but we have no right 
 to complain, as his health is good, and his position has 
 hitherto been very pleasant. 
 
 31st. — We are in statu quo, and our armies quiet. The 
 Northern army seems to be in commotion. Burnside has 
 resigned, and " fighting Joe Hooker" has been put in his 
 place. Sumner and Franklin have also resigned their 
 " grand divisions." Pourquoi? Won't the men advance ? 
 Perhaps the Stafford mud has been more than a match for 
 them. Burnside had issued but a few days ago an address 
 to his men, saying they were about to " strike the final 
 blow at the rebellion." All was in readiness, and the 
 "Grand Army" moved forward; just then the "rain de- 
 scended and the floods came," and, attempting to cross the 
 Rappahannock ten miles above Fredericksburg, ambulances, 
 wagons, big guns and all stuck in the mud; the order, " To 
 your tents, Israel," had to be given, and the "rebellion" 
 still flourishes. 
 
 February 11. — For ten days past I have been at the 
 bedside of my patient in Richmond. The physicians for the 
 third time despaired of his life; by the goodness of God he 
 is again convalescent. Our wounded are suffering exces- 
 sively for tonics, and I believe that many valuable lives are 
 lost for the want of a few bottles of porter. One day a 
 surgeon standing by B's bedside said to me, " He must sink 
 in a day or two; he retains neither brandy nor milk, and 
 his life is passing away for want of nourishment." In a 
 state bordering on despair, I went out to houses and stores, 
 to beg or buy porter; not a bottle was in town. At last a 
 lady told me that a blockade-runner, it was said, had 
 brought ale, and it was at the medical purveyor's. I went 
 
188 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 back to Mr. P's instantly, and told my brother (B's father) 
 of the rumour. To get a surgeon's requisition and go off 
 to the purveyor's was the work of a moment. In a short 
 time he returned, with a dozen bottles of India ale. It 
 was administered cautiously at first, and when I found that 
 he retained it, and feebly asked for more, tears of joy and 
 thankfulness ran down my cheeks. " Give him as much as 
 he will take during the night," was the order of the physi- 
 cian. The order was obeyed, and life seemed to return to 
 his system; in twenty-four hours he had drank four bottles; 
 he began then to take milk, and I never witnessed any thing 
 like the reanimation of the whole man, physical and mental. 
 The hospitals are now supplied with this life-giving beverage, 
 and all have it who " absolutely require it," though great 
 care is taken of it, for the supply is limited. Oh, how cruel 
 it is that the Northern Government should have made 
 medicines, and the necessaries of life to the sick and 
 wounded, contraband articles ! 
 
 12i/i. — We have lately had a little fight on the Black- 
 water. The Yankees intended to take General Pryor by 
 surprise, but he was wide awake, and ready to receive and 
 repulse them handsomely. The late democratic majorities 
 at the North seem to have given the people courage; denun- 
 ciations are heard against the despotism of the Government. 
 Gold has gone up to 160, causing a ferment. Oh that 
 they would " bite and devour one another !" Since I have 
 been so occupied in nursing B. I have not had as much time 
 for the hospital, but go when I can. A few days ago, on 
 going there in the morning, I found Miss T. deeply inter- 
 ested about a soldier who had been brought in the evening 
 before. The gentleman who accompanied him had found 
 him in the pouring rain, wandering about the streets, shiver- 
 
FEBRUARY, 1863. 1S9 
 
 ing with cold, and utterly unable to tell his own story. The 
 attendants quickly replaced his wet clothes by dry ones, and 
 put him into a warm bed ; rubbing and warm applications 
 were resorted to, and a surgeon administered restoratives. 
 Physical reaction took place, but no clearing of the mind. 
 When soothingly asked about his name, his home, and his 
 regiment, he would look up and speak incoherently, but no 
 light was thrown on the questions. He was watched and 
 nursed during the night. His pulse gradually weakened, 
 and by the break of day he was no more. That morning 
 I found the nameless, homeless boy on the couch which I 
 had so often seen similarly occupied. The wind had raised 
 one corner of the sheet, and as I approached to replace it a 
 face was revealed which riveted me to the spot. It was 
 young, almost boyish, and though disease and death had 
 made sad ravages, they could not conceal delicately-carved 
 features, a high, fair forehead, and light hair, which had 
 been well cared for. He looked like one of gentle blood. 
 All seemed so mysterious, my heart yearned over him, and 
 my tears fell fast. Father, mother, sisters, brothers — where 
 are they ? The morning papers represented the case, and 
 called for information. He may have escaped in delirium 
 from one of the hospitals ! That evening, kind, gentle 
 hands placed him in his soldier's coffin, and he had Christian 
 burial at " Hollywood," with the lonely word " Stranger" 
 carved upon the headboard. We trust that the sad story 
 in the papers may meet some eye of which he had once 
 been the light, for he was surely "Somebody's Darling.'' 
 Sweet lines have been written, of which this sad case 
 reminds me : — 
 
 " Into a ward of the whitewashed walls, 
 Where the dead and dying lay — 
 
190 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 Wounded by bayonets, shells, and balls — 
 Somebody's darling was borne one day : — 
 
 Somebody's darling ! so young and brave, 
 Wearing yet on his sweet, pale face — 
 
 Soon to be bid in the dust of the grave — 
 The lingering light of his boyhood's grace. 
 
 " Matted and damp are the curls of gold, 
 
 Kissing the snow of that fair young brow ; 
 Pale are the lips of delicate mould — 
 
 Somebody's darling is dying now. 
 Back from the beautiful, blue-veined brow, 
 
 Brush his wandering waves of gold ; 
 Cross his hand on his bosom now — 
 
 Somebody's darling is still and cold. 
 
 " Kiss him once for somebody's sake ; 
 
 Murmur a prayer soft and low ; 
 One bright curl from its fair mates take, — 
 
 They were somebody's pride, you know 
 Somebody's hand hath rested there ; 
 
 Was it a mother's, soft and white ? 
 Or have the lips of a sister fair 
 
 Been baptized in their waves of light 1 
 
 " God knows best ! He has somebody's love • 
 
 Somebody's heart enshrined him there ; 
 Somebody wafted his name above, 
 
 Night and morn, on wings of prayer. 
 Somebody wept when he marched away, 
 
 Looking so handsome, brave, and grand ! 
 Somebody's kiss on his forehead lay; 
 
 Somebody clung to his parting hand. 
 
 " Somebody 's watching and waiting for him, 
 Yearning to hold him again to her heart ; 
 And there he lies with his blue eyes dim, 
 And the smiling, childlike lips apart. 
 
FEBRUAET, 1S63. 191 
 
 Tenderly "bury the fair young dead, 
 
 Pausing to drop on his grave a tear ; 
 
 Carve on a wooden slab o'er his head — 
 
 ' Somebody's darling slumbers here l' " 
 
 13th. — Still in Richmond, nursing E. He was wounded 
 this day two months ago; but such fluctuations I have 
 never witnessed in any case. We have more hope now, 
 because his appetite has returned. I sent over to market 
 this morning for partridges and eggs for him, and gave 15 
 cents apiece for the one, and $1.50 per dozen for the other. 
 I am afraid that our currency is rapidly depreciating, and 
 the time is approaching when, as in the old Revolution, a 
 man had to give $300 for a breakfast. Mrs. P. came in to 
 scold me for my breach of good manners in buying any 
 thing in her house. I confessed myself ashamed of it, but 
 that I would be more ashamed to disturb her whenever B's 
 capricious appetite required indulgence. I have never seen 
 more overflowing hospitality than that of this household. 
 Many sick men are constantly refreshed from the bounties 
 of the table; and supplies from the larder seem to be at the 
 command of every soldier. One of the elegant parlours is 
 still in the occupancy of the wounded soldier brought here 
 with B. ; his wound was considered slight, but he suffers 
 excessively from nervous debility, and is still unfit for ser- 
 vice. I did feel uncomfortable that we should give Mrs. P. 
 so much trouble, until she told me that, having no sons old 
 enough for service, and her husband being unable to serve 
 the country personally, except as a member of the " Ambu- 
 lance Committee," they had determined that their house 
 should be at the service of the soldiers. Last summer, 
 during the campaigns around Kichmond, they took in seven 
 wounded men, some of whom had to be nursed for months. 
 
192 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 20th. — A letter this morning from Sister M., who has 
 returned to her home on the Potomac. She gives me an 
 account of many " excitements" to which they are exposed 
 from the landing of Yankees, and the pleasure they take in 
 receiving and entertaining Marylanders coming over to join 
 us, and others who go to their house to "bide their 
 time" for running the blockade to Maryland. "Among 
 others," she says, " we have lately been honoured by two 
 sprigs of English nobility, the Marquis of Hastings and 
 Colonel Leslie of the British army. The Marquis is the 
 future Duke of Devonshire. They only spent the evening, 
 as they hoped to cross the river last night. They are 
 gentlemanly men, having no airs about them ; but ' my lord' 
 is excessively awkward. They don't compare at all in ease 
 or elegance of manner or appearance with our educated men 
 of the South. They wore travelling suits of very coarse 
 cloth — a kind of pea-jacket, such as sailors wear. As it 
 was raining, the boots of the Colonel were worn over his 
 pantaloons. They were extremely tall, and might have 
 passed very well at first sight for Western wagoners! We 
 have also had the Rev. Dr. Joseph Wilmer with us for some 
 days. He is going to Europe, and came down with a party, 
 the Englishmen included, to cross the river. The Doctor is 
 too High Church for my views, but exceedingly agreeable, 
 and an elegant gentleman. They crossed safely last night, 
 and are now en route for New York, where they hope to 
 take the steamer on Wednesday next." She does not finish 
 her letter until the 17th, and gives an account of a 
 pillaging raid through her neighbourhood. She writes on 
 the 14th : " There had been rumours of Yankees for some 
 days, and this morning they came in good earnest. They 
 took our carriage horses, and two others, in spite of onr 
 
FEBRUARY, 1S63. 193 
 
 remonstrances; demanded the key of the meat-house, and 
 took as many of our sugar-cured hams as they wanted; 
 to-night they broke open our barn, and fed their horses, and 
 are even now prowling around the servants' houses in search 
 of eggs, poultry, etc. They have taken many prisoners, 
 and all the horses they could find in the neighbourhood. 
 We have a rumour that an infantry force is coming up from 
 Heathsville, where they landed yesterday. We now see 
 many camp-fires, and what we suppose to be a picket-fire, 
 between this and the Rectory. My daughters, children and 
 myself are here alone; not a man in the house. Our trust 
 is in God. We pray not only that we may be delivered 
 from our enemies, but from the fear of them. It requires 
 much firmness to face the creatures, and to talk with them. 
 The Eighth New York is the regiment with which we are 
 cursed. The officers are polite enough, but are determined 
 to steal every thing they fancy.'' On the 15th she says: 
 "This morning our enemies took their departure, promising 
 to return in a few days. They visited our stable again, and 
 took our little mare 'Virginia.' The servants behaved 
 remarkably well, though they were told again and again 
 that they were free." Again, on the 11th, she writes : "I 
 saw many of the neighbours yesterday, and compared losses. 
 We are all pretty severely pillaged. The infantry regiment 
 from Heathsville took their departure on Sunday morning, 
 in the ' Alice Price, 7 stopped at Bushfield, and about twelve 
 took breakfast there. Mr. B. says the vessel was loaded 
 with plunder, and many negroes. They took off all the 
 negroes from the Mantua estate; broke up the beautiful 
 furniture at Summerfield, and committed depredations every- 
 where. A company of them came up as far as Cary's on 
 Saturday evening, and met the cavalry. They stole horses 
 
 9 
 
194 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 enough on their way to be pretty well mounted. They will 
 blazon forth this invasion of a country of women, children, 
 and old men, as a brilliant feat ! Now that they are gone, 
 we breathe more freely, but for how long a time ?" We 
 feel very anxious about our friends between the Rappahan- 
 nock and Potomac, both rivers filled with belligerent vessels; 
 but they have not yet suffered at all, when compared with 
 the lower Valley, the Piedmont country, poor old Fairfax, 
 the country around Richmond, the Peninsula; and, indeed, 
 wherever the Yankee army has been, it has left desolation 
 behind it, and there is utter terror and dismay during its 
 presence. 
 
 Ashland, February 22c?. — A very deep snow this morn- 
 ing. The cars are moving slowly on the road, with two en- 
 gines attached to each train. Our gentlemen could not go to 
 Richmond to-day. Washington's birthday is forgotteri, or 
 only remembered with a sigh by his own Virginia. Had he 
 been gifted with prophetic vision, in addition to his great 
 powers, we would still remain a British colony ; or, at least, 
 he would never have fought and suffered for seven long 
 years to have placed his native South in a situation far more 
 humiliating than the colonies ever were towards the mother- 
 country; or to have embroiled her in a war compared to 
 which the old Revolution was but child's play. 
 
 26<A. — In the city again yesterday. P>. improving. The 
 morning papers report firing upon Vicksburg. Several 
 steamers have arrived lately, laden for the Confederacy. 
 Blockade-running seems to be attended with less danger 
 than it was, though we have lately lost a most valua- 
 ble cargo by the capture of the " Princess Royal." The 
 "Alabama" continues to perform the most miraculous feats, 
 and the " Florida" seems disposed to rival her in brilliant ex- 
 
MAECH, 1863. 195 
 
 ploits. They " walk the water," capturing every thing in 
 their way, and know no fear, though many vessels are in 
 pursuit. I am grieved to hear that my dear little J. P. has 
 been ordered to Charleston. While he was on James 
 • River, I felt that I could be with him if he were wounded ; 
 but he is in God's hauds : 
 
 "Be still, my heart; these anxious cares 
 To thee are burdens, thorns, and snares." 
 
 The papers full of the probable, or rather hoped for, in- 
 tervention of France. The proposition of the Emperor, 
 contained in a letter from the Minister to Seward, and his 
 artful, wily, Seward-like reply, are in a late paper. We 
 pause to see what will be the next step of the Emperor. 
 Oh that he would recognize us, and let fanatical England 
 pursue her own cold, selfish course ! 
 
 28/A. — To-day we are all at home. It is amusing to see, 
 as each lady walks into the parlour, where we gather 
 around the centre-table at night, that her work-basket is 
 filled with clothes to he repaired. We are a cheerful set, 
 notwithstanding. Our winding "reel," too, is generally 
 busy. L. has a very nice one, which is always in the hands 
 of one or the other, preparing cotton for knitting. We are 
 equal to German women in that line. Howitt says that 
 throughout Germany, wherever you see a woman, you see 
 the " everlasting knitting ;" so it is with Confederate 
 women. I only wish it was " everlasting,'' for our poor 
 soldiers in their long marches strew the way with their 
 wornout socks. 
 
 March 5th. — Spent last night in Richmond with my 
 friend Mrs. R. This morning we attended Dr. Minne- 
 gerode's prayer-meetiDg at seven o'clock. It is a blessed 
 
196 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 privilege enjoyed by people in town, that of attending re- 
 ligious services so often, particularly those social prayer- 
 meetings, now that we feel our dependence on an Almighty 
 arm, and our need of prayer more than we ever did in our 
 lives. The President has issued another proclamation, set- • 
 ting aside the 21th of this month for fasting and prayer. 
 
 Again I have applied for an office, which seems necessary 
 to the support of the family. If I fail, I shall try to think 
 
 that it is not right for me to have it. Mr. • 's salary is 
 
 not much more than is necessary to pay our share of the 
 expenses of the mess. Several of us are engaged iu making 
 soap, and selling it, to buy things which seem essential to 
 our wardrobes. A lady who has been perfectly independ- 
 ent in her circumstances, finding it necessary to do some- 
 thing of the kind for her support, has been very successful 
 in making pickles and catsups for the restaurants. Another, 
 like Mrs. Primrose, rejoices in her success in making goose- 
 berry wine, which sparkles like champagne, and is the best 
 domestic wiue I ever drank ; this is designed for the highest 
 bidder. The exercise of this kind of industry works, two 
 ways : it supplies our wants, and gives comfort to the 
 public. Almost every girl plaits her own hat, and that of 
 her father, brother, and lover, if she has the bad taste to 
 have a lover out of the army, which no girl of spirit would 
 do unless he is incapacitated by sickness or wounds. But 
 these hats are beautifully plaited of rye straw, and the 
 ladies' hats are shaped so becomingly, that though a Pari- 
 sian milliner might pronounce them old-fashioned, and laugh 
 them to scorn, yet our Confederate girls look fresh and 
 lovely in them, with their gentle countenances and bright, 
 enthusiastic eyes; and what do we care for Parisian style, 
 particularly as it would have to come to us through Yankee- 
 
march, 1863. 197 
 
 land ? The blockade has taught our people their own re- 
 sources; but I often think that when the great veil is re- 
 moved, and reveals us to the world, we will, in some respects, 
 be a precious set of antiques. The ladies occasionally con- 
 trive to get a fashion-plate " direct from Prance,'' by way 
 of Nassau ; yet when one of them, with a laudable zeal for 
 enhancing her own charms by embellishments from abroad, 
 sends gold to Nassau, which should be kept in our own 
 country, and receives in return a trunk of foreign fabrics, 
 she will appear on the street immediately afterwards in a 
 costume which seems to us so new and fantastic, that we 
 are forced to the opinion that we would appear to the world 
 ludicrously passe. A gentleman, lately from Columbia, tells 
 me that the South Carolina girls pride themselves on their 
 palmetto hats ; and the belle of large fortune, who used to 
 think no bonnet presentable but one made by the first New 
 York or Parisian milliner, now glories in her palmetto. 
 The balmoral, too, the product of our own spinning-wheel 
 and loom, would show well with the prettiest imported ones. 
 I have seen several, which the young wearers told me were 
 " dyed in the wool, spun, and woven by the poor of our 
 own neighbourhood. The dye-stuffs were from our own 
 woods." These are little things, but, proving the independ- 
 ence of our people, I rejoice in them. The croakers are now 
 indulging themselves with fears of famine ; they elongate 
 their gloomy visages, and tell us, in sad accents, that butter 
 was $3.50 per pound in market this morning, and other 
 things in proportion. I am sorry to say that it is true, 
 and that it is evident we must have scarcity, particularly of 
 such things as butter, for the cattle must go to feed the 
 army. The soldiers must be fed; our gardens will give us 
 vegetables ; God will give us the fruits of the earth abun- 
 
198 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 dantly, as in days past, and if we are reduced, which 1 do 
 not anticipate, to bread and water, we will bear it cheer- 
 fully, thank God, and take courage : 
 
 " Brought safely "by his hand thus far, 
 Why should we now give place to fear ?" 
 
 The poor, being well supplied with Government work, 
 are better off than usual. 
 
 All quiet in the army. This may portend a storm. Sev- 
 eral pieces of cannon passed this morning on the Freder- 
 icksburg train. Eaids still continue in the Northern Neck, 
 keeping us very uneasy about our friends there. 
 
 March 15th. — Weather dark and cloudy. We had a 
 
 good congregation in our little church. Mr. read the 
 
 service. The Bishop preached on " Repentance.'' Eich- 
 mond was greatly shocked on Friday, by the blowing up of 
 the Laboratory, in which women, girls, and boys were em- 
 ployed making cartridges; ten women and girls were killed 
 on the spot, and many more will probably die from their 
 wounds. May God have mercy upon them! Our dear 
 friend Mrs. S. has just heard of the burning of her house, 
 at beautiful Chantilly. The Yankee officers had occupied it 
 as head-quarters, and on leaving it, set fire to every house 
 on the land, except the overseer's house and one of the 
 servants' quarters. Such ruthless Vandalism do they com- 
 mit wherever they go I I expressed my surprise to Mrs. S. 
 that she was enabled to bear it so well. She calmly re- 
 plied, " God has spared my sons through so many battles, 
 that I should be ungrateful indeed to complain of any thing 
 else." This lovely spot has been her home from her mar- 
 riage, and the native place of her many children, and when 
 
MARCH, 1863. 199 
 
 I remember it as I saw it two years ago, I feel that it is 
 too hard for her to be thus deprived of it. An officer 
 (Federal) quartered there last winter, describing it in a let- 
 ter to the New York Herald, says the furniture had been 
 " removed," except a large old-fashioned sideboard; he had 
 been indulging his curiosity by reading the many private 
 letters which he found scattered about the house; some of 
 which, he says, were written by General Washington, " with 
 whom the family seems to have been connected." In this 
 last surmise he was right, and he must have read letters 
 from which he derived the idea, or he may have gotten it 
 from the servants, who are always proud of the aristocracy 
 of their owners; but not a letter written by General Wash- 
 ington did he see, for Mrs. S. was always careful of them, 
 and brought them away with her; they are now in this 
 house. The officer took occasion to sneer at the pride and 
 aristocracy of Virginia, and winds up by asserting that 
 " this establishment belongs to the mother of General J. E. 
 B. Stuart," to whom she is not at all related. 
 
 March ISth. — This evening, when leaving Richmond, 
 we were most unexpectedly joined at the cars by our friend 
 N. P. Dear child, we had not seen her since her father's fam- 
 ily left their home, some weeks before we left ours. Well do 
 I remember the feeling of misery which I experienced at see- 
 ing them go off. We have all suffered since that time, but 
 none of us can compare with them in that respect. They 
 are living in desolated Fauquier. There they have buried 
 their lovely little Kate, and N's principal object in visiting 
 this country now is to see the grave of her eldest brother, 
 a victim of the war, and to see the lady at whose house he 
 died, and who nursed him as though he had been her son 
 We enjoy her society exceedingly, and linger long over our 
 
200 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 reminiscences of the past, and of home scenes. Sadly 
 enough do we talk, but there is a fascination about it which 
 is irresistible. It seems marvellous that, in the chances 
 and changes of war, so many of our " Seminary Hill" cir- 
 cle should be collected within the walls of this little cot- 
 tage. Mrs. P. has once been, by permission of the 
 military authorities, to visit her old home; she found it used 
 as a bakery for the troops stationed around it. After pass- 
 ing through rooms which she scarcely recognized, and see- 
 ing furniture, once her own, broken and defaced, she found 
 her way to her chamber. There was her wardrobe in its 
 old place; she had left it packed with house-linen and other 
 valuables, and advanced towards it, key in hand, for the 
 purpose of removing some of its contents, when she was 
 roughly told by a woman sitting in the room not to open 
 that wardrobe, "there was nothing in it that belonged to 
 her." Oh, how my blood would have boiled, and how I 
 should have opened it, unless put aside by force of arms, 
 just to have peeped in to see if my own things were still 
 there, and to take them if they were! But Mrs. P., more 
 prudently, used a gentle remonstrance, and finding that 
 nothing could be effected, and that rudeness would ensue, 
 quietly left the room. We bide our time. 
 
 19^/i. — My birthday. While in Richmond, this morning, 
 brother J. and myself called on some friends, among others 
 our relative Mrs. H., who has lately been celebrating the 
 marriage of her only son, and took us into the next room 
 for a lunch of wine and fruit-cake. We had never, during 
 two years, thought of fruit-cake, and found it delightful. 
 The fruit consisted of dried currants and cherries from her 
 garden, at her elegant James River home, Brandon, now 
 necessarily deserted. She fortunately was enabled to bring 
 
MARCH, 1863. 201 
 
 her furniture to Richmond, and is the only refugee that I 
 know who is surrounded by home comforts. 
 
 March 20th. — Severe snow-storm. This will retard the 
 attack upon Fredericksburg, if the enemy designed it. We 
 spent the morning in the parlour. N. P. read aloud the 
 old-fashioned but amusing novel, " Pride and Prejudice," in 
 very spirited style. The event of the day was the arrival 
 from Alexandria of a bundle, filled with useful articles for 
 a lady, who, not wanting them all herself, allowed us to 
 help ourselves at the price which they cost her in Alexan- 
 dria. It was amusing to see with what avidity the girls 
 seized on a calico dress at only seventy-five cents per yard 
 (Confederate money) ; every thing was in such demand, that 
 I only got a tooth-brush, at one dollar; they are two dol- 
 lars and fifty cents in Richmond. 
 
 27 th. — To-day was set apart by the President as a day 
 of fasting and prayer. Some of us went to Richmond, and 
 joined in the services at St. Paul's. The churches were all 
 crowded with worshippers, who, I trust, felt their depend 
 ence on God in this great struggle. The President was 
 in church, and, I believe, most of the dignitaries. One of 
 the ladies of the hospital, seeing this morning two rough- 
 looking convalescent soldiers sitting by the stove, exhorted 
 them to observe the day by prayer and fasting. They 
 seemed to have no objection to the praying, but could not 
 see the " good of fasting," and doubted very much whether 
 " Marse Jeff fasted all day himself — do you reckon he 
 does ?" The lady laughingly told him that she would in- 
 quire and let them know, but she reckoned that such was 
 his habit. In the course of the morning she met with Mrs. 
 Davis, and told her the anecdote. " Tell them from me,'' 
 said Mrs. D., " that Mr. Davis never eats on fast-day, and 
 
 9* 
 
202 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 that aFsoon as he returns from church he shuts himself up 
 in his study, and is never interrupted daring the day, ex- 
 cept on public business." Of course this was soon given as 
 an example, not only to the two convalescents, but to the 
 whole hospital. 
 
 March 28th. — A letter from -. She tells me that 
 
 W. B. N. and E. C. both passed through the fierce fight 
 at Kelly's Ford uninjured. How can we be grateful 
 enough for all our mercies ? Letters also from B., by un- 
 derground railroad. That sweet child and her whole 
 family surrounded and roughly treated by the Yankees; 
 and so it will be as long as Millroy is allowed to be the 
 scourge of the Valley. 
 
 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 ex- 
 temporaneous prayer after the sermon, offered for him, was 
 most earnestly and tearfully joined in by all. 
 
 April 1st. — " All quiet on the Rappahannock to-night/' 
 and we are almost as still as in days gone by. The girls 
 got up a little merriment this morning by their " April, 
 fools." The remainder of the day passed in our usual 
 way. 
 
 April Id. — We were shocked when the gentlemen re- 
 turned, to hear of the riot which occurred in Richmond to- 
 day. A mob, principally of women, appeared in the streets, 
 attacking the stores. Their object seemed to be to get 
 any thing they could; dry-goods, shoes, brooms, meat, glass- 
 ware, jewelry, were caught up by them. The military was 
 called out — the Governor dispersed them from one part of 
 
April, 1863. 203 
 
 the town, telling them that unless they disappeared in five 
 minutes, the soldiers should fire among them. This he said, 
 holding his watch in his hand. Mr. Munford, the Presi- 
 dent of the Young Men's Christian Association, quieted 
 them on another street by inviting them to come to the 
 rooms of the Association, and their wants should be sup- 
 plied; many followed him — I suppose those who were really 
 in waut. Others there were, of the very worst class of 
 women, and a great many who were not in want at all, 
 which they proved by only supplying themselves with jew- 
 elry and other finery. The President was out speaking to 
 them, and trying to seccire order. The Mayor made them 
 a speech, and seemed to influence them, but I dare say 
 that the bayonets of the soldiers produced the most decided 
 effect. It is the first time that such a thing has ever dark- 
 ened the annals of Richmond. God grant it may be the 
 last. I fear that the poor suffer very much; meal was sell- 
 ing to-day at §16 per bushel. It has been bought up by 
 speculators. Oh that these hard-hearted creatures could 
 be made to suffer! Strange that men with human hearts 
 can, in these dreadful times, thus grind the poor. 
 
 Good-Friday. — The Bishop preached for us to-day most 
 delightfully from the text : "Jesus Christ and Him cruci- 
 fied." In the afternoon Mrs. S. had the inexpressible pleas- 
 ure of welcoming her son, Mr. A. S., from the Western 
 Army. He thinks that Vicksburg and Port Hudson are 
 both impregnable. God grant that it may be so! 
 
 April ith. — Spent to-day in Richmond, attending on the 
 wounded. The mob of women came out yesterday, but in 
 smaller numbers, and was easily put down by military 
 authority. To-day a repetition was expected, and the can- 
 non was in place to rake the streets, but they thought dis- 
 
204 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN" REFUGEE. 
 
 cretion the better part of valour, and staid at home. The 
 riot, it is ascertained, was not caused by want ; it was no 
 doubt set on foot by Union influences. I saw the Rev. Mr. 
 Peterkin, who is perhaps more thoroughly acquainted with 
 the state of the poor than any man in the city. He says 
 that they are admirably attended to. Large sums of money 
 are put in the hands of the clergy for their benefit ; this 
 money is disbursed by ladies, whose duty and pleasure it is 
 to relieve the suffering. One gentleman gave as much as 
 $5,000 last winter. Besides this, the industrious poor are 
 supplied with work by the Government, and regularly paid 
 for it. 
 
 The Bishop set off this morning for his spring visitations, 
 which are becoming, alas ! very circumscribed — so much of 
 the diocese is in the hands of the enemy. 
 
 Mr. C, of Georgetown, Captain Norton, of New Or- 
 leans, and Mr. A. S. are with us. The first of these gen- 
 tlemen ran the blockade from his home some months ago, 
 finding he was to be arrested for opinion's sake, and now 
 holds a Confederate office in Richmond. He very rarely 
 hears from his wife and children. Flag-of-truce letters sel- 
 dom reach their destination, and when they do, letters of 
 one page, written to be inspected by strangers, are very un- 
 satisfactory. An occasional " underground'' communication 
 comes to him, like water in a thirsty land. I often look at 
 his calm countenance with sympathy, knowing that there 
 must be deep sorrow and anxiety underneath. 
 
 9th. — On Monday saw B. removed from the bed of suffer- 
 ing, on which he had been lying four months, put on a 
 stretcher, and carried to the canal-boat. His countenance 
 was full of joyful anticipations of home. His arm, which 
 should have been amputated on the field, hangs lifeless by 
 
apeil, 1863. 205 
 
 his side; and yet he expects to return to his post, that of 
 Major of artillery, as soon as he is strong enough. Poor 
 fellow, it is well for him to amuse himself with the idea, 
 but he will never again be fit for any duty but that at a 
 post. He has been the recipient of kindnesses from Mr. 
 and Mrs. P. and others, which could only be experienced 
 in this dear, warm-hearted Southern country of ours, and 
 which he can never forget to his dying day. That night 
 I spent with my kind friend Mrs. R., and next morning 
 made such purchases as were absolutely necessary for our 
 comfort. I gave for bleached cotton, which used to be sold 
 for 12£ cents, $3.50 per yard; towelling $1.25 per yard; 
 cotton 50 cents a spool, etc. Nothing reconciled me to 
 this extravagance but that I had sold ray soap for $1 per 
 pound ! I 
 
 The enemy has retired from Vicksburg, their canal hav- 
 ing proved a failure. Where they will reappear nobody 
 knows. Another ineffectual attempt upon Charleston on 
 the 1th and 8th. 
 
 Sunday Night, April 12iA. — Mr. administered the 
 
 Sacrament here to-day, the first time it was ever adminis- 
 tered by Episcopalians in Ashland. There were fifty com- 
 municants, the large majority of them refugees. Our society 
 here has been greatly improved by the refugees from Fred- 
 ericksburg. The hotel is full. The G-'s have rented the 
 last vacant cottage, and are boarding others. The Pi's, 
 with their three pretty young daughters and son, occupy 
 the ball-room of the hotel. The dressing-room makes a 
 pleasant chamber, and the long dancing-room, partitioned 
 off into rooms by the suspension of their handsome crimson 
 damask curtains, is very pretty, and, for spring and summer 
 use, makes very comfortable apartments. They saved some 
 
206 DIAEY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 of their furniture, and are nicely fixed for refugees, who 
 must do the best they can, and be thankful it is no worse. 
 The C's seem very happy in the old billiard-rooms; the large 
 room answers the double purpose of dining-room and par- 
 lour, and the smaller rooms, which I am afraid were once 
 used for card-playing when this place was a summer resort, 
 are now put to a better use, as" sleeping apartments and 
 kitchen for three most agreeable families. One family in 
 the opposite cottage has interested us very much. Mr. 
 Wade (the husband) was an Englishman, who had been in 
 office in Washington ; he resigned and came South on tie 
 breaking out of the war, placed his family in Richmond, 
 and joined our army; he was not young or healthy, and soon 
 was broken down by the service ; he was then made clerk 
 in the Quartermaster's Department, and removed his family 
 to Ashland for cheapness. He was very highly educated 
 and gentlemanly, and his coming here seems to me very 
 mysterious. Soon after his removal to this place he grew 
 worse and died. His wife and five children were left penni- 
 less and friendless. They seemed to have no acquaintances, 
 however slight. The villagers, from their limited resources, 
 raised a sum for her present support, and after much diffi- 
 culty procured her a situation in the Note-signing Depart- 
 ment. She goes into the city every morning on the cars, as 
 do several other ladies to the duties of their offices, leav- 
 ing her children to the care of a faithful coloured nurse, 
 whom she never saw until two months ago. We have 
 taught her the art of making soap of concentrated ley, and 
 often when she gets on the train, a basket may be seen in 
 the freight-train filled with soap, which she sells to the 
 grocers or commissaries. She is an interesting-looking 
 woman, Northern born and educated. Her father, she says, 
 
apkil, 1863. 207 
 
 is a Colonel in the Yankee army. She wrote to him again 
 and again, and one of onr gentlemen did the same, repre- 
 senting her case. After long silence he has written to her 
 a short letter, which she showed me, inviting her, in rather 
 an indifferent manner, to come to Georgetown, where her 
 mother is now staying, but remits her no money to pay her 
 passage or to support her here. Our gentlemen have inter- 
 ested Mr. Lawley, an Englishman of some note in Richmond, 
 in her case ; and her husband having been a British sub- 
 ject, he may be enabled to get her a passport and a free 
 passage on the flag-of-truce boat. 
 
 15 th. — Spent yesterday in the hospital. I am particu- 
 larly interested in two very ill men. One is a youth of 
 seventeen years, who has been seventeen months in service. 
 Poor boy! he is now sinking with consumption, and has 
 lately been brought to our hospital from another. His case- 
 elicits great sympathy and kindness. His name is Stans- 
 berry, and he is from Baltimore. We have reason to hope 
 that he is prepared to meet his God. 
 
 Letters (underground) from the Valley to-day. Millroy 
 is doing his worst amoug the dear people there. It is 
 grievous to think how much of Virginia is down-trodden 
 and lying in ruins. The old State has bared her breast to 
 the destroyer, and borne the brunt of battle for the good 
 of the Confederacy, and this too after long and vain efforts 
 for peace. Her citizens, young and old, are doing what they 
 can. Her sons have bled and died, and are still offering 
 themselves willing sacrifices on the country's altar. Her 
 daughters are striving in their vocation in this hallowed 
 cause, all looking to God for his blessing upon our 
 efforts. 
 
 11th. — On going to the hospital yesterday, I found 
 
£08 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 that young Stansberry had died, surrounded by sympa- 
 thizing friends, and haviDg a bright hope of a blessed im- 
 mortality. We are anxious about our armies everywhere, 
 from the Mississippi to the seaboard. Rumours are rife 
 about General Longstreet having thrown his forces between 
 Norfolk and the Yankee army at Suffolk. In the mean 
 time we must possess our souls in patience. 
 
 18th. — A letter from our son J. to-day; full of pleasant 
 feeling at finding himself again in the Army of Northern 
 Yirginia. He is just established near General Jackson's 
 head-quarters, as Surgeon of the First Yirginia 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 boast- 
 ing 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 1 
 
 Yesterday spent in the hospital; some of the men are 
 very ill. I go back to-morrow. 
 
 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. Thatwght 
 he spent with his old friend, Mr. M. Garnett. Once having 
 every luxury which could be desired, he now lives in Ms 
 desolated house, surrounded by down-trodden fields, without 
 fences, trees, or vegetation of any sort. His servants, ex- 
 
may, 1863. 209 
 
 cept 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, forget- 
 ting his own privations in zeal for his country. On Sunday 
 Mr. heard an admirable sermon at head-quarters (Gen- 
 eral 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. 
 
 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 trans- 
 porting 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 
 Eappahannock, 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 ns for a time; his 
 left arm has been amputated, and there is a severe wound 
 
210 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 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 tie 
 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 Ben- 
 jamin White, of Charlestown, Jefferson Couuty. 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 coun- 
 try ! 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 vElagers. They belonged to 
 
may, 1863. 211 
 
 3toneman's command. They went over this county, Gooch- 
 land, Louisa, and apart of Fluvanna, without molestation. 
 They became alarmed, however, and cut their career short, 
 rhey went to Columbia for the purpose of destroying the 
 :anal, but in their haste did it very little injury. The 
 injury to the railroads was slight, and easily repaired. To 
 ndividuals they did some mischief; at W. they fed four 
 hundred horses at my brother's barn, took his buggy horse, 
 ind rode off. His neighbours, and others in their route, 
 fared very much in the same way. Iu Richmond the excite- 
 ment was terrible. The alarm-bell pealed out its startling 
 notes; citizens were armed, and sent out to man the bat- 
 teries ; 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 bat- 
 teries, and the city in a few hours became perfectly quiet. 
 
 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, 
 flu, 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 com- 
 pany, 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. 
 
 Tuesday Evening, May \%h. — How can I, record the 
 sorrow which has befallen our country 1 General T. J. Jack- 
 son is no more. The good, the great, the glorious Stone- 
 
212 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 wall Jackson is numbered with the dead ! Humanly speak- 
 ing, we cannot do without him; but the same God who 
 raised him up, took him from us, and He who has so mirac- 
 ulously prospered our cause, can lead us on without Mm. 
 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, accom- 
 panied 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. To- 
 morrow 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 appro- 
 priately 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 fin- 
 ished his course, he has kept the faith. Henceforth there 
 
may, 1863. 213 
 
 is laid up for him a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, 
 the righteous Judge, shall give him at the last day." 
 
 Wednesday, 15th. — 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. 
 
 May 16th. — We were aroused this morning before day- 
 light, 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 with- 
 out 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 ouly 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, hav- 
 ing 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 
 
214 IARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 wounded of our little hospital. Some of them are very 
 severely injured, yet they are the most cheerful invalids 1 
 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, yes- 
 terday, 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 tTieni, and gloried 
 iu 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 lauded at West Point, and are 
 thence sending out raiding parties over the country. Colo- 
 nel 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 1 
 
 Monday, May 1 8i/i. — This morning we had the gratifi- 
 cation of a short visit from General Lee. He called and 
 breakfasted with us, while the other passengers in the 1 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 
 
may, 1863. 215 
 
 (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., sfie 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 de- 
 press 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 with- 
 draw 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 Yalley last summer, which is 
 beautifully characteristic of General J. One night, when it 
 was evident that there must be a battle next day, he (Gen- 
 eral 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 
 
216 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 to enter it, when his attention was arrested by the voice of 
 prayer. General Jackson was praying fervently for guid- 
 ance 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 20th. — I feel depressed to-night. Army news from 
 the South bad. General Pemberton has been repulsed 
 between Jackson and Vicksburg. General Johnston is 
 there; I hope, by the mercy of God, he may be able to 
 keep the enemy out of Yicksburg. Besides the depressing 
 news, the day has been distressing in the hospital — so much 
 suffering among the wounded. One fine young man has the 
 appearance and manner of imbecility, from having been 
 struck on the head by a piece of shell. No relief can be 
 given him, and the surgeons say that he must die. 
 
 Mr. staid in town to attend the Church " Council," 
 
 as it is now called. This new name may be more appro- 
 priate to an ecclesiastical meeting, yet " Virginia Conven- 
 tion" has a sweet, hallowed sound to me. 
 
 23d — We tremble for Vicksburg; an immense army has 
 been sent against it; we await its fate with breathless 
 anxiety. 
 
 25th. — The enemy repulsed at Vicksburg, though it is 
 still in a state of siege. General Johnston is there, and we 
 hope that the best means will be used to save that heroic 
 little city; and we pray that God may bless the means used. 
 
mat, 1863., 217' 
 
 A friend called this niorniug, and told us of the fall of 
 another of those dear youths, over whose boyish sojourn 
 with us memory loves to linger. Kennedy Groghan, of 
 Baltimore, who, in the very beginning of the war, came 
 over to help us, fell in a skirmish in the Valley, a short 
 time ago. The only account given us is, that the meu were 
 forced to retreat hastily, and were only able to place his 
 loved body under the spreading branches of a tree. Oh ! I 
 trust that some kindly hand has put him beneath God's own 
 earth, free from the din of war, from the strife of man, and 
 from the curse of sin forever. I remember so well when, 
 during our stay in Wiuchester, the first summer of the war, 
 while General Johnston's army was stationed near there, 
 how he, and so many others, would come in to see us, with 
 their yet unfaded suits of gray — already sunburnt and 
 soldier-like, but bright and cheerful. Alas ! alas ! how 
 many now fill the graves of heroes — their young lives 
 crushed out by the unscrupulous hand of an invading foe ! 
 
 21th. — The news from Vicksburg by the morning's papers 
 is very delightful, if authentic. We pause for confirmation 
 of it. The young people among the villagers and refugees 
 have been amusing themselves, during the past two evenings, 
 with tableaux. I am too old to enjoy such things in these 
 troubled times, but one picture I regretted not seeing. It 
 represented the young Confederacy. The whole bright 
 galaxy was there — South Carolina in scarlet, restive and 
 fiery; Virginia, grave and dignified, yet bright with hope, 
 seemed to be beckoning Kentucky on, who stood beyond 
 the threshold, her eyes cast down with shame and suffering; 
 Maryland was at the threshold, but held back by a strong 
 hand; all the rest of the fair sisters were there in their 
 appropriate places, forming a beautiful picture. 
 10 
 
218 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 I am amused to see how the Democrats of the North are 
 speechifying and exciting themselves about the arrest of 
 Vallandigham, and how Lincoln will soon make them hack 
 down. 
 
 May 28. — Hospital day. The wounded cheerful and 
 doing well. I read, distributed books, and talked with them. 
 They are always ready to be amused, or to be instructed. 
 I have never but in one instance had an unpleasant word or 
 look from any whom I endeavoured to treat with kindness 
 in any way. Bible reading is always kindly received. J. J. 
 has returned home, as usual much interested in hospital 
 work. 
 
 June 1. — L. and B. went up to Mr. Marye's near 
 Fredericksburg to-day, to visit their brother's grave. They 
 took flowers with which to adorn it. It is a sweet, though 
 sad office, to plant flowers on a Christian's grave. They 
 saw my sister, who is there, nursing her wounded son. 
 
 News from Vicksburg cheering. 
 
 bth. — Our household circle has been broken to-day, by 
 Mrs. S. and her daughter B. leaving it for South Carolina. 
 We are grieved to give them up. 
 
 6th. — We have been greatly interested lately by a visit to 
 the village of our old friend, Mrs. T., of Rappahannock County. 
 She gives most graphic descriptions of her sojourn of seven 
 weeks among the Yankees last summer. Sixty thousand 
 surrounded her house, under command of General Siegel. 
 On one occasion, he and his staff rode up and announced 
 that they would take tea loith her. Entirely alone, that 
 elegant old lady retained her composure, and with unruffled 
 countenance rang her bell; when the servant appeared, she 
 said to him, " John, tea for fourteen." She quietly re- 
 tained her seat, conversing with them with dignified polite- 
 
june, 1S63. 219 
 
 ness, aud submitting as best she could to the General's very 
 free manner of walking about her beautiful establishment, 
 pronouncing it " baronial," and regretting, in her presence, 
 that he had not known of its elegancies and comforts in 
 time, that he might have brought on Mrs. Siegel, aud have 
 made it his head-quarters. Tea being announced, Mrs. T., 
 before proceeding to the dining-room, requested the servant 
 to call a soldier in, who had been guarding her house for 
 weeks, and who had sought occasion to do her many kind- 
 nesses. When the man entered, the General demurred : 
 " No, no, madam, he will not go to table with us." Mrs. 
 T. replied, " General, I must beg that you will allow this 
 gentleman to come to my table, for he has been a friend to 
 me when I have sadly wanted one." The General objected 
 no farther; the man took tea with the master. After tea, 
 the General proposed music, asking Mrs. T. if she had ever 
 played; she replied that " such was still her habit." The 
 piano being opened, she said if she sang at all she must sing 
 the Eongs of her own land, and then, with her uncommonly 
 fine voice, she sang "The Bonnie Blue Flag," "Dixie," and 
 other Southern songs, with great spirit. They listened with 
 apparent pleasure. One of the staff then suggested that 
 the General was a musician. Upon her vacating the seat 
 he took it, and played in grand style; with so much beauty 
 and accuracy, she added, with a twinkle of her eye, that I 
 strongly suspected him of having been a music-master. 
 Since that time she has heard that he was once master of 
 that beautiful art in Mobile. Well, he was at least a more 
 innocent man then than now. Almost every woman of the 
 South, or at least of Virginia, will have her tale to tell 
 when this " cruel war is over." The life of too many will 
 be, alas! as a "tale that is told;" its interest, its charm, 
 
220 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 even its Lope, as far as this world is concerned, having 
 passed away. Their crown of rejoicing will be in the public 
 weal, which their loved and lost have fought, bled, and died 
 to establish; but their own hearts will be withered, their 
 hearths deserted. 
 
 Mrs. G. D., of Fredericksburg, has been giving some 
 amusing incidents of her sudden departure from her home. 
 She had determined to remain, but when, on the night of 
 the bombardment, a shell burst very near her house, her 
 husband aroused her to say that she must go. They had 
 no means of conveyance, and her two children were both 
 under three years of age, and but one servant, (the others 
 having gone to the Yankees,) a girl twelve years old. It 
 so happened that they had access to three straw carriages, 
 used by her own children and those of her neighbours. 
 They quickly determined to put a child in each of two 
 carriages, and to bundle up as many clothes as would fill 
 the third. The father drew the carriage containing one 
 child, the mother the other child, and the little girl drew 
 the bundle of clothes. They thus set out, to go they knew 
 not whither, only to get out of the way of danger. It was 
 about midnight, a dark, cold night. They went on and on, 
 to the outskirts of the town, encountering a confused multi- 
 tude rushing pell-mell, with ever and anon a shell bursting 
 at no great distance, sent as a threat of what they might 
 expect on the morrow. They were presently overtaken by 
 a respectable shoemaker whom they knew, rolling a wheel- 
 barrow containing a large bundle of clothes, and the baby. 
 They were attracted by the poor little child rolling off from 
 its elevated place on the bundle, and as Mrs. D. stopped, 
 with motherly solicitude for the child, the poor man told 
 his story. In the darkness and confusion he had become 
 
JUNE, 1863. 221 
 
 separated from his wife and other children, and knew not 
 where to find them; lie thought he might find them but for 
 anxiety about the baby. Mrs. D. then proposed that he 
 should take her bundle of clothes with his in the wheel- 
 barrow, and put his child into the third straw carriage. This 
 being agreed to, the party passed on. When they came to 
 our encampment, a soldier ran out to offer to draw one car- 
 riage, and thus rest the mother ; having gone as far as he dared 
 from his regiment, then another soldier took his place to the 
 end of his line, and so on from one soldier to another until 
 our encampment was passed. Then she drew on her little 
 charge about two miles farther, to the house of an acquaint- 
 ance, which was wide open to the homeless. Until late the 
 next day the shoemaker's baby was under their care, but he 
 at last came, bringing the bundle in safety. As the day pro- 
 gressed the cannon roared and the shells whistled, and it 
 was thought advisable for them to go on to Chancellorsville. 
 The journey of several miles was performed on foot, still 
 with the straw carriages, for no horse nor vehicle could be 
 found in that desolated country. They remained at Chan- 
 cellorsville until the 2d or 3d of May, when that house 
 became within range of cannon. Again she gathered up 
 her little flock, and came on to Ashland. Her little three- 
 years old boy explored the boarding-house as soon as he got 
 to it, and finding no cellar he became alarmed, and running 
 to his mother, exclaimed, "This house won't do, mother; 
 we all have no cellar to go into when they shell it !" Thus 
 our children are born and reared amid war and bloodshed ! 
 It seemed so sad to me to see a bright little girl, a few days 
 ago, of four years old, stop in the midst of her play, when 
 she heard distant thunder, exclaiming, "Let me run home, 
 they arc firing !" Poor little child, her father had been a 
 
222 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 sacrifice; no wonder that she wanted to run to her mother 
 when she thought she heard firing. Tales far more sad than 
 that of Mrs. D. are told, of the poor assembled by hundreds 
 on the roadside in groups, having no shelter to cover them, 
 and often nothing to eat, on that dark winter's night. 
 
 June 1. — We are living in fear of a Yankee raid. They 
 have a large force on York River, and are continually 
 sending parties up the Pamuuky and Mattapony Rivers, to 
 devastate the country and annoy the inhabitants. Not long 
 ago a party rode to the house of a gentleman on Matta- 
 pony; meeting him on the lawn, the commander accosted 
 him: "Mr. R., I understand you have the finest horses in 
 King William County V "Perhaps, sir, I have," replied 
 Mr. R. " Well, sir," said the officer, " I want those horses 
 immediately." " They are not yours," replied Mr. R, "and 
 yon can't get them.'' The officer began to curse, and said 
 he would burn every house on the place if the horses were 
 not produced. Suiting the action to the word, he handed a 
 box of matches to a subordinate, saying, " Burn!" In half 
 an hour Mr. R. saw fourteen of his houses in a light blaze, 
 including the dwelling, the kitchen, corn-houses and bam 
 filled with grain, meat-house filled with meat, and servants' 
 houses. Scarcely any thing was saved, not even the family 
 clothes. But he did not get the horses, which were the 
 objects of his peculiar wishes ; the faithful servants had 
 carried them away to a place of safety. How strange it is 
 that we can be so calm, surrounded as we are by danger ! 
 
 Mh. — We have had a cavalry fight near Cnlpeper Court- 
 House. We drove the enemy back, but I am afraid that 
 our men won no laurels, for we were certainly surprised most 
 shamefully. 
 
 16th— The morning papers gave a telegram from General 
 
JUNE, 1863. 223 
 
 Lee, announcing- that General Early's Brigade had taken 
 Winchester by storm. So again Winchester and all that 
 beautiful country, Clarke, etc., are disenthralled. 
 
 It is said that our army will go to Pennsylvania. This I 
 dread ; but it is iu God's hands, I believe, for good and not 
 for evil. 
 
 21st. — We hear of fights and rumours of fights. It is 
 said that Ewell's Division captured 6,000 prisoners at Win- 
 chester, and that General Edward Johnson went to Berry- 
 ville and captured 2,000 that were on their way to reinforce 
 Millroy. They have driven the enemy out of the Yalley, 
 so that now we have possession of it once more. Our cav- 
 alry has been as far as Chambersburg, Pennsylvania, but I 
 do not know what they have accomplished. 
 
 26th. — While in the midst of preparation to visit my 
 sisters at W. and S. H., we have been startled by the ac- 
 count of Yankees approaching. They have landed in con- 
 siderable force at the White House, and are riding over the 
 country to burn and destroy. They have burned the South 
 Anna Bridge on the Central Railroad, and this evening 
 were advancing on the bridge over the South Anna, on this 
 railroad, which is but four miles above us. We have a 
 small force there, and a North Carolina regiment has gone 
 up to-night to reinforce them. We are, of course, iu con- 
 siderable excitement. I am afraid they are ruining the 
 splendid wheat harvests which are now being gathered on 
 the Pamunky. Trusting in the Lord, who hath hitherto 
 been our help, we are going quietly to bed, though we be- 
 lieve that they are very near us. Prom our army we can 
 hear nothing. No one can go farther than Culpeper Court- 
 House in that direction. Why this has been ordered I 
 know not, but for some good military reason, I have no 
 
224 DIAEY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 doubt. It is said that Stuart's cavalry have been fighting 
 along the line of the Manassas Gap Railroad with great 
 success. We can hear no particulars. 
 
 Saturday Evening. — Just heard from W. and S. H.; 
 both terribly robbed by the raiders in the last three days. 
 All of my brother's horses and mules taken. Some of the 
 servants were forced off, who staid so faithfully by them, 
 and resisted all the Yankee entreaties twice before. They 
 attempted to burn the wheat, which is shocked in the field, 
 but an opportune rain made it too wet to burn. The raiders 
 came up the river, destroying crops, carriages, etc., stealing 
 horses and cattle, and carrying off the servants from every 
 plantation, until they got to Hickory Hill, (Mr. W. F. 
 Wickham's,) where they found a prize in the person of 
 General W. ¥. Lee, who was wounded at the cavalry fight 
 of Beverley's Ford, and was at Mr. W's, unable to move. 
 Notwithstanding the remonstrances of his wife and mother, 
 they took him out of his. bed, placed him in Mr. Wick- 
 ham's carriage, and drove off with him. I can't conceive 
 greater hardness of heart than it required to resist the en- 
 treaties of that beautiful young wife and infirm mother. F. 
 has just received a note from the former, written in sorrow 
 and loneliness. She fears that the wound may suffer greatly 
 by locomotion; beyond that, she has much to dread, but she 
 scarcely knows what. 
 
 Wednesday. — Many exciting rumours to-day about the 
 Yankees being at Hanover Court-House, within a few miles 
 of us. They can be traced everywhere by the devastation 
 which marks their track. There are also rumours that our 
 army is in Pennsylvania. So may it be ! We are harassed 
 to death with their ruinous raids, and why should not the 
 North feel it in its homes ? Nothing but their personal suf- 
 
july, 1863. 225 
 
 fering will shorten the war. I don't want their women and 
 children to suffer; nor that our men should follow their ex- 
 ample, and break through and steal. I want our warfare 
 carried on in a more honourable way; but I do want our 
 men and horses to be fed on the good things of Pennsylva- 
 nia; I want the fine dairies, pantries, granaries, meadows, 
 and orchards belonging to the rich farmers of Pennsylvania, 
 to be laid open to our army; and I want it all paid for with 
 our Confederate money, which will be good at some future 
 day. I want their horses taken for our cavalry and wagons, 
 in return for the hundreds of thousands that they have 
 taken from us; and I want their fat cattle driven into Vir- 
 ginia to feed our army. It amuses me to think how the 
 Dutch farmers' wives will be concealing the golden products 
 of their dairies, to say nothing of their apple-butter, peach- 
 bntter, and their wealth of apple-pies. 
 
 July 3. — The scarcity of blank-books, and the very 
 high prices, make them unattainable to me ; therefore I 
 have determined to begin another volume of my Diary on 
 some nice wrapping-paper which I happen to have ; and 
 though not very pleasant to write on, yet it is one of the 
 least of my privations. 
 
 We are still worried by reports that the Yankees are 
 very near us, and we are constantly expecting them to raid 
 upon Ashland. We have a good force at " The Junction," 
 and at the bridge just above us, which they may respect, as 
 they are dreadfully afraid of our forces. 
 
 Spent yesterday in the hospital ; the wounded are getting 
 on well. The city was put into a blaze of excitement 
 by the report that General Dix was marching on it from the 
 White House. I dare say they think that General Lee 
 has left it. undefended, in which surmise they are vastly 
 10* 
 
226 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 mistaken. Our troops seem to be walking over Pennsyl- 
 vania without let or hindrance. They have taken possession 
 of Chambersburg, Carlisle, and other smaller towns. They 
 surrendered without firing a gun. I am glad to see that 
 General Lee orders his soldiers to respect private property ; 
 but it will be difficult to make an incensed soldiery, whose 
 houses have in many instances been burned, crops wantonly 
 destroyed, horses stolen, negroes persuaded off, hogs and 
 sheep shot down and left in the field in warm weather — it 
 will be difficult to make such sufferers remember the Chris- 
 tian precept of returning good for evil. The soldiers in 
 the hospital seem to think that many a private torch will 
 be applied "just for revenge." It was in vain that I 
 quoted to them, " Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the 
 Lord." One stoutly maintained that he would like to go 
 North "just to burn two good houses: one in return for 
 my own house on Mississippi River; the other for that of 
 my brother-in-law, both of which they burned just after 
 landing from their boat, with no pretence at an excuse for 
 it; and when I think of my wife and children homeless, 
 I feel as if I could set all Yankeedom in a blaze." Poor 
 fellow ! he became so excited that he arose in his bed, as if 
 impatient to be off and at his work of vengeance. I am 
 glad to hear that quantities of horses and fat cattle are 
 driven into "Virginia. 
 
 July 4. — Our celebration of this day is more serious 
 than in days gone by. Our military have no time for dress- 
 parades and barbecues. The gentlemen could not get home 
 yesterday evening; the trains were all used for carrying 
 soldiers to the bridge on this railroad just above us, upon 
 which the Yankees are making demonstrations. The morn- 
 ing papers report that General D. IT. Hill had a skirmish near 
 
july, 1S63. 227 
 
 Tunstall's Station on Thursday evening, and repulsed the 
 enemy. Nothing from our armies in Pennsylvania or Vicks-. 
 burg. 
 
 July 4, Eleven o'clock P.M. — Heavy musketry to-night, 
 for two hours, at the bridge above this place. It has ceased, 
 and we hope that the enemy are driven back. 
 
 Mr. came home this evening; the other gentlemen 
 
 are absent. We are going to bed, feeling that we are in 
 God's hands. The wires are cut between this and " The 
 Junction," and there is every indication that the Yankees 
 are near. The telegraph operator has gone off, and great 
 anxiety is felt about the village. There are no Government 
 stores here of any sort; I trust that the Yankees know 
 that, and will not think us worth the trouble of looking 
 after. 
 
 Monday Morning.— The hope I expressed in my last 
 line on Saturday night was delusive. About one o'clock I 
 was awakened by E. leaning over me, and saying in a low, 
 tremulous tone, " Mother, get up, the Yankees are come." 
 We sprang up, and there they were at the telegraph office, 
 immediately opposite. In an instant the door was broken 
 down with a crash, and the battery and other things thrown 
 out. Axes were at work cutting down the telegraph-poles, 
 while busy hands were tearing up the railroad. A sentinel 
 sat on his horse at our gate as motionless as if both man 
 and horse had been cut from a block of Yankee granite. 
 We expected every moment that they would come to the 
 house, or at least go into the hotel opposite to us ; but they 
 went off to the depot. There was a dead silence, except 
 an occasional order, "Be quick," "Keep a sharp look-out," 
 etc., etc. The night was moonlight, but we dressed our- 
 selves and sat in the dark; we were afraid to open the 
 
228 DIAEY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 window-shutters or to light a lamp, lest they might be at- 
 tracted to the house. We remained in this way perhaps 
 two hours, when the flames suddenly burst from the depot. 
 All parts of the building seemed to be burning at once; 
 also immense piles of wood and of plauk. The conflagra- 
 tion was brilliant. As soon as the whole was fairly blazing 
 the pickets were called in, and the whole party dashed off, 
 with demoniac yells. Soon after, as the dawn began to 
 break upon us, doors were thrown open, and the villagers 
 began to sally forth to the fire. In a short time all of us 
 were there, from every house — even the babies; and as it be- 
 came daylight, an amusing group was revealed. Every one 
 had dressed in the dark, and all manner of costumes were 
 to be seen — dressing-gowns, cravatless old gentlemen, young 
 ladies in curl-papers, collars pinned awry, etc. Some ladies 
 presented themselves in full costume — handsome dresses, 
 lace collars, ear-rings and breastpins, watches, etc. — giving 
 as a reason, that, if they were burnt out, they would at 
 least save their best clothes — forgetting, the while, that a 
 Yankee soldier has an irresistible penchant for watches 
 and other jewelry. Some of us were more cautious, and 
 had put all our valuables in unapproachable pockets — the 
 pockets to a lady's dress not having proved on all occasions 
 a place of safety. The loss to the railroad company will 
 be considerable ; to the public very small, for they are 
 already replacing the broken rails, and the telegraph was 
 put in operation yesterday. 
 
 The morning papers give the Northern account of a 
 battle in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. It gives the victory 
 to the Federals, though it admits a very heavy loss on their 
 side; announces the loss of Major-General Reynolds and 
 Brigadier-General Paul by death. We pause for the truth. 
 
July, 1863. 229 
 
 8th. — Accounts from Gettysburg very confused. Nothing 
 seems to be known certainly; but Vicksburg has fallen ! 
 So says rumour, and we are afraid not to believe. It is a 
 terrible loss to us ; but God has been so good to us here- 
 tofore that we can only say, " It is the Lord." A victory 
 is announced to the War Department gained by General 
 Loring in the West; and another gained by General Richard 
 Taylor over Banks. For these successes I thank God from 
 my heart. Many troops have passed here to-day, for what 
 point we know not. Our anxiety is very great. Our home 
 is blessed with health and comfort. 
 
 July 11. — Vicksburg was surrendered on the 4th of 
 July. The terms of capitulation seem marvellously gener- 
 ous for such a foe. What can the meaning be ? 
 
 General Lee has had a most bloody battle near Gettys- 
 burg. Our loss was fearful. We have heard of no casual- 
 ties except in general officers. General Richard Garnett, 
 our friend and connection, has yielded up his brave spirit 
 on a foreign field. He was shot through the head while 
 standing on the fortifications, encouraging his men and 
 waving them on to the fight. How my heart bleeds to 
 think of his hoary-headed father, of whom he was the stay ! 
 General Barksdale, of Mississippi, is another martyr. Also 
 General Armstead, of Virginia. Generals Kemper and 
 Pender wounded. I dread to hear of others. Who of 
 our nearest kin may have ceased to live ? When I think 
 of probabilities and possibilities, I am almost crazy. Some 
 of our men are reported wounded and in the enemy's hands. 
 They took many prisoners. The cars are rushing up and 
 down with soldiers. Two trains with pontoons have gone 
 up within the last two days. What does it all portend ? 
 
 July 12. — The enemy is again before Charleston. 
 
230 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 Lord, have mercy on the efforts of our people ! I am 
 miserable about my poor little J. P., who is on board the 
 Chicora, in Charleston harbor. 
 
 14th. — To-day spent in the hospital ; a number of wounded 
 there from the fatal field of Gettysburg. They are not 
 severely wounded, or they could not have been brought so 
 far. Port Hudson has fallen ! It could not be retained 
 after losing Vicksburg. General Lee's army is near Hagera- 
 town. Some of the casualties of the Gettysburg fight 
 which have reached me are very distressing. The death of 
 James Maupin, of the University of Yirginia — so young, so 
 gentle, so brave ! He fell at his gun, as member of the 
 Second Howitzers of Richmond. My heart goes out in 
 warmest sympathy for his parents and devoted grandmother. 
 Colonel James Marshall, of Fauquier, has fallen. He is 
 yet another of those dear ones over whose youth we so 
 fondly watched. Yet another was Westwood McCreery, 
 formerly of Richmond. Another was Valentine Southall. 
 They all went with bright hope, remembering that every 
 blow that was struck was for their own South. Alas ! alas! 
 the South now weeps some of her bravest sons. But, try- 
 ing as it is to record the death of those dear boys, it is 
 harder still to speak of those of our own house and blood. 
 Lieutenant B. H. McGuire, our nephew, the bright, fair- 
 haired boy, from whom we parted last summer at Lynch- 
 burg as he went on his way to the field, full of buoyancy 
 and hope, is among the dead at Gettysburg. Also, Cap- 
 tain Austin Brockenbrongh, of Essex County. Yirginia 
 had no son to whom a brighter future opened. His talents, 
 his education, his social qualities, his affectionate sympathy 
 with all around him, are all laid low. Oh, may God be 
 with those of whose life they seemed a part ! It is hard to 
 
july, 1863. 231 
 
 think of so many of our warm-hearted, whole-souled, brave, 
 ardent Southern youths, now sleeping beneath the cold 
 clods of Pennsylvania. We can only hope that the day is 
 not far distant when we may bring their dear bodies back 
 to their native soil. 
 
 15th. — In Richmond, to-day, I saw my old friend, Mrs. 
 E. R. C, looking after her sons. One was reported 
 " wounded;" the other " missing." This sad word may mean 
 that he is a prisoner; it may mean worse. She can get no 
 clue to him. His company has not come, and she is very 
 miserable. Two mothers, one from Georgia, another from 
 Florida, have' come on in pursuit of their sons, and are 
 searching the hospitals for them. They were not in our 
 hospital, and we could give them no information, so they 
 went on to others. There is more unhappiness abroad 
 among our people than I have ever seen before. Sometimes 
 I wish I could sleep until it is over — a selfish wish enough; 
 but it is hard to witness so much sorrow which you cannot 
 alleviate. 
 
 July 18. — This day two years ago the battle of Bull 
 Run was fought, a kind of prelude to that of Manassas, 
 on the 21st. Since that time what scenes have been en- 
 acted ! Battles have been fought by scores, and lives, 
 precious lives, have been sacrificed by thousands, and that, 
 too, of the very flower of our country. Again I have heard 
 of the death of one of our dear E. H. S. boys — William 
 H. Robb, of Westmoreland. He was with us for four 
 years, and was very, very dear to us all. He died of wounds 
 received in a cavalry fight at Brandy Station. We thought 
 he had recovered, but this evening brought the fatal tidings. 
 The news of the New York riots, which they got up in 
 opposition to the draft, is cheering! Oh! that they could 
 
232 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 not get up another army, and would fight each other ! Fitz 
 Lee's cavalry had a fight yesterday at Shepherdstown, and 
 repulsed the enemy handsomely. All eyes turn gloomily to 
 Charleston. It is greatly feared that it will have to suc- 
 cumb to Federal force. I trust that our Heavenly Father 
 may avert so dire a calamity ! 
 
 19th. — When shall we recover from this fatal trip into 
 Pennsylvania ? General Pettigrew, of North Carolina, 
 fell on the retreat, at a little skirmish near the Falling 
 Waters. Thus our best men seem to be falling on the 
 right hand and on the left. When speaking of General P's 
 death, a friend related a circumstance which interested 
 me. General P. was severely wounded at the battle of 
 " Seven Pines." He was lying in a helpless condition, when 
 a young soldier of another command saw him, and, imme- 
 diately stooping to the ground, assisted him in getting on 
 his back, and was bearing him to a place of safety, when 
 he (the soldier) was struck by a ball and instantly killed. 
 The General fell to the ground, and remained there, uuable 
 to move, until he was captured by the enemy. He was 
 subsequently incarcerated in Fort Delaware. Having 
 learned from the soldier, while on his back, that his name 
 was White, from Westmoreland County, Virginia, as soon 
 as the General was exchanged he inquired for the family, 
 and found that the mother was a respectable widow who 
 had had five sons on the field, but one of whom survived. 
 He immediately wrote to her, expressing his deep sense of 
 obligation to her son for his gracious effort to save his 
 life, delicately inquired into her circumstauces, and offered, 
 if necessary, to make a liberal provision for her. I did not 
 learn the widow's reply. 
 
 We have had this week a visit of two days from Mrs. 
 
july, 1863. 233 
 
 General Lee. She was on her way to the Hot Springs in 
 pursuit of health, of which she stands greatly in need. She 
 is a great sufferer from rheumatism, but is cheerful, not- 
 withstanding her sufferings, bodily and mentally. She is, 
 of course, unhappy about her imprisoned son, and, I should 
 suppose, about the overpowering responsibilities of her 
 noble husband ; but of that you never hear a word from 
 her. She left us this morning, in a box car, fitted up to suit 
 an invalid, with a bed, chairs, etc. She was accompanied 
 by the lovely wife of her captive son, also travelling in 
 pursuit of health. Greater beauty and sweetness rarely 
 fall to the lot of woman ; and as I looked at the sad, deli- 
 cate lineaments of her young face, I could but inwardly 
 pray that the terrible threats denounced against her hus- 
 band by Yankee authority might never reach her ear; for, 
 though we do not believe that they will dare to offer him 
 violence, yet the mere suggestion would be enough to make 
 lier very miserable. 
 
 Yesterday morning we had quite a pleasant diversion, in 
 
 attending a marriage in the village. Mr. performed 
 
 the ceremony, and we afterwards breakfasted with the bri- 
 dal party. We then proceeded to Richmond — they to spend 
 their honeymoon in and around the city, and we to our du- 
 ties there. 
 
 July 23. — Spent the day at the hospital. Mr. 
 
 has just received a post chaplaincy from Government, and 
 is assigned to the Officers' Hospital on Tenth Street. For 
 this we are very thankful, as the performance of the duties 
 of the ministerial office is in all respects congenial to his 
 taste and feeling. I pray that God may give him health and 
 strength for the office ! 
 
 28 th. — The girls are in Richmond, staying at Dr. G's. 
 
234 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 They went in to attend a tournament to be given to-day 
 by General Jenkins's Brigade, stationed near Richmond; 
 but this morning the brigade was ordered to go South, and 
 great was the disappointment of the young people. They 
 cannot feel as we do during these gloomy times, but are 
 always ready to catch the "passing pleasure as it flies," 
 forgetting that, in the best times, 
 
 " Pleasures are like poppies spread : 
 You seize the flower, the bloom is shed." 
 
 Aud how much more uncertain are they now, when we liter- 
 ally cannot tell what a day may bring forth, and none of 
 us know, when we arise iu the morning, that we may not 
 hear before noonday that we have been shorn of all that 
 makes life dear ! 
 
 July 29. — A letter of farewell from the Valley, writ- 
 ten as the enemy's lines were closing around our loved ones 
 there. It is painful to think of their situation, but they are 
 in God's hands. 
 
 It is said that Lee's army and Meade's are approaching 
 each other. Oh, I trust that a battle is not at hand ! I 
 feel unnerved, as if I could not stand the suspense of an- 
 other engagement. Not that I fear the result, for I cannot 
 believe that Meade could whip General Lee, under any cir- 
 cumstances ; but the dread casualties ! The fearful list of 
 killed and wounded, when so many of our nearest and dear- 
 est are engaged, is too full of anguish to anticipate without 
 a sinking of heart which I have never known before. 
 
 There was a little fight some days ago, near Brandy 
 Station — the enemy driven across the river. Fredericks- 
 burg and Culpeper Court-House are both occupied by our 
 troops. This is very gratifying to our "Fredericksburg ref- 
 
july, 1863. 235 
 
 ugees, who are going up to see if they can recover their 
 property. All movables, such as household furniture, 
 books, etc., of any value, have been carried off. Their 
 houses, iu some instances, have been battered down. 
 
 I was iu Richmond this morning, and bought a calico 
 dress, for which I gave $2.50 per yard, and consid- 
 ered it a bargain; the new importations have run up to 
 $3.50; and $4 per yard. To what are we coming? 
 
 30th. — Our good President has again appointed a day for 
 fasting and prayer. 
 
 The Florida and Alabama are performing wonderful feats, 
 and are worrying the North excessively. Many a cargo 
 has been lost to the Northern merchant princes by their skill, 
 and I trust that the Government vessels feel their power. 
 
 Several members of our household have gone to the 
 
 mountains in pursuit of health — Mr. among the rest. 
 
 Mrs. P., of Amelia, is here, cheering the house by her 
 sprightliness ; and last night we had Mr. Randolph Tucker, 
 who is a delightful companion — so intellectual, cheerful, and 
 God-fearing! 
 
 The army is unusually quiet at all points. Does it por- 
 tend a storm ? Many changes are going on in " our vil- 
 lage." The half-English, half-Yankee Wades are gone at 
 last, to our great relief. I dare say she shakes the dust 
 from her feet, as a testimony against the South; for she 
 certainly has suffered very much here, and she will not have 
 as many difficulties there, with her Yankee Colonel father. 
 She professes to outrebel the rebels, and to be the most 
 intense Southern woman of us all; but I rather think that 
 she deceives herself, aud unless I mistake her character very 
 much indeed, I think when she gets among her own people 
 she will tell them all she knows of our hopes, fears, 
 
236 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 and difficulties. Poor thing! I am glad she is gone to 
 those persons on whom she has a natural claim for protec- 
 tion. 
 
 August 10. — Spent this morning in the house of mourn- 
 ing. Our neighbour Mrs. S. has lost her eldest son. The 
 disease was " that most fatal of Pandora's train." consump- 
 tion. He contracted it in the "Western Army. His poor 
 mother has watched the ebbing of his life for several 
 months, and last night he died most suddenly. That young 
 soldier related to me an anecdote, some weeks ago, with 
 his short, oppressed breathing and broken sentences, which 
 showed the horrors of this fratricidal war. He said that 
 the day after a battle in Missouri, in the Pall of 1861, he, 
 among others, was detailed to bury the dead. Some Yan- 
 kee soldiers were on the field doing the same thing. As 
 they turned over a dead man, he saw a Yankee stop, look 
 intently, and then run to the spot with an exclamation of 
 horror. In a moment he was on his knees by the body, in a 
 paroxysm of grief. It was his brother. They were Missou- 
 rians. The brother now dead had emigrated South some 
 years before. He said that before the war communication 
 had been kept up between them, and he had strongly sus- 
 pected that he was in the army; he had consequently been 
 in constant search of his brother. The Northern and South- 
 ern soldier then united in burying him, who was brother in 
 arms of the one, and the mother's son of the other! 
 
 The Bishop and Mrs. J. returned home to-day from their 
 long trip in the South-west. They travelled with great 
 comfort, but barely escaped a raid at Wytheville. We 
 welcomed them gladly. So many of our family party are 
 wandering about, that our little cottage has become lonely. 
 
 Mr. C. has come out, and reports a furious bombard- 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1863. 237 
 
 rr.ent of Sumter. This has been going on so long, that I 
 begin to feel that it is indeed impregnable. 
 
 Wednesday.— We are all pursuing the even tenor of our 
 way, as if there were no war. An order from General 
 Lee is iu to-day's paper, exhorting officers and soldiers to a 
 strict observance of fast-day, which is on Friday. In the 
 mean time the enemy is storming Charleston with unprece- 
 dented fury. It is an object of peculiar vengeance. Sumter 
 has literally fallen, but it has not yielded; its battered walls 
 bid defiance to the whole power of the North. 
 
 August 26. — A week ago I was called to Camp Jackson 
 
 to nurse , who has been very sick there. The hospital 
 
 is very extensive, and in beautiful order. It is under the 
 supervision of Surgeon Hancock, whose whole soul seems 
 engaged in making it an attractive home to the sick and 
 wounded. The beautiful shade-trees and bold spring are 
 delightful to the convalescents during this warm weather. 
 Past-day was observed there with great solemnity. I heard 
 a Methodist chaplain preach to several hundred soldiers, 
 and I never saw a more attentive congregation. 
 
 September 8. — The Government employed the cars yes- 
 terday bringing Longs treet's Corps from Fredericksburg, on 
 its way to Chattanooga. We all stood at our gate last 
 night to give the soldiers water; we had nothing else to 
 give them, poor fellows, as there were three long trains, and 
 they had no time to stay. They looked healthy and cheer- 
 ful, and went oif hurrahing for Yirginia. 
 
 The year of our sojourn at this cottage is nearly over. 
 Our mess must be broken up, as some of our gentlemen are 
 ordered away. We have had a very pleasant time, and it 
 is painful to dissolve our social relations. Not one of the 
 families is provided with a home; we are all looking out for 
 
238 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 lodgings, and find it very difficult to get them. This change 
 of home, habits, and association is very trying to old persons; 
 the variety seems rather pleasant to the young. 
 
 September 16. — This house is to be sold on the 29th, so 
 we must all find resting-places before that time. But where? 
 Room-rent in Richmond is enormously high. We may 
 get one very small cottage here for forty dollars per month, 
 but it has the reputation of being unhealthy. Our con- 
 nection, Mr. P., is here looking out for a home, and we may 
 get one together. It would be delightful to have him and 
 the dear girls with us. No one thinks of boarding; almost 
 all the boarding-house keepers rent out their rooms, and 
 refugees keep house in them as cheaply as they choose. 
 
 Richmond, 24. — We have all been scattered. The Bishop 
 has obtained good rooms ; the other members of the house- 
 hold are temporarily fixed. We are here with our son, 
 looking for rooms every day; very few are vacant, and they 
 are too high for our means. We shall probably have to 
 take the little cottage at Ashland, notwithstanding its repu- 
 tation — either the cottage or a country-house uear Rich- 
 mond, about which we are in correspondence with a gentle- 
 man. This plan will be carried out, and work well if the 
 Lord pleases, and with this assurance we should be satisfied; 
 but still we are restless and anxious. Our ladies, who have 
 been brought up in the greatest luxury, are working with 
 their hands to assist their families. The offices given to 
 ladies have been filled long ago, and yet I hear of a number 
 of applicants. Mr. Memminger says that one vacancy will 
 bring a hundred applications. Some young ladies plait 
 straw hats for sale; I saw one sold this morning for twenty 
 dollars— and their fair fingers, which had not been accus- 
 tomed to work for their living, plait on merrily; they can 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1S63. 239 
 
 dispose of them easily; and, so far from being ashamed of it, 
 they take pride in their own handiwork. I went to see 
 
 Mrs. to-duy, daughter of one of our gentlemen high 
 
 in position, and whose husband was a wealthy landholder in 
 Maryland. I found her sitting at her sewing-machine, 
 making an elaborate shirt-bosom. She said she took in 
 sewing, and spoke of it very cheerfully. " How can we 
 rent rooms and live on captain's pay ?" She began by 
 sewing for brothers and cousins, then for neighbours, and 
 now for anybody who will give it to her. She laughingly 
 added, that she thought she would hang out her sign, 
 "Plain sewing done here." We certainly are a great 
 people, women as well as men. This lady, and all other 
 ladies, have always places at their frugal tables for hungry 
 soldiers. Many ladies take in copying. 
 
 25tt. — There has been a great battle in the West, at 
 Chickamauga, in Tennessee, between Bragg and Rosecranz. 
 We are gloriously victorious 1 The last telegram from 
 General Bragg tells of 7,000 prisoners, thirty-five pieces of 
 cannon, and 15,000 small-arms, taken by our men. The 
 fight is not over, though they have been fighting three days. 
 Longstreet and his corps of veterans are there to reinforce 
 them. A battle is daily expected on the Rapidan; and, to 
 use Lincoln's expression, they are still " pegging away" at 
 Charleston. 
 
 September 26. — Spent this morning seeking information 
 about our plan of living in the country. Nothing satis- 
 factory. 
 
 28th.— Mrs. M. and myself went to St. John's Church 
 yesterday, and heard an excellent sermon from Bishop 
 Wilmer; service read by Dr. Norwood. Encouraging 
 news continues from the West. I am still anxious about 
 
240 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 our home. Mr. is sick, and the prospect of getting a 
 
 house diminishing. Perhaps I should take comfort from the 
 fact that a great many persons are homeless as well as our- 
 selves. If Mr. were well, I should not feel "so hope- 
 less. The girls, too, are visiting the country, expecting us 
 to get an impossible home, and I do dislike to disappoint 
 them. Oh, that we could be perfectly satisfied, knowing 
 that we are in the Lord's hands ! 
 
 Cedar Hill, October 4. — We came to Ashland on the 
 29th, to attend the sale of the house in which we lived last 
 year. We got a few pieces of furniture, and determined to 
 rent the little cottage. We spent that night at Mrs. T's, 
 and came here next morning, and are now collecting hops, 
 brooms, and the various et cceteras necessary for house- 
 keeping. A refugee friend, who will change her location, 
 has lent us her furniture, so that we expect tc be very snug. 
 Of course we shall have no curtains nor carpets, which are 
 privations in our old age, but the deficiencies must be made 
 up by large wood fires and bright faces. The war has 
 taught useful lessons, and we can make ourselves comfort- 
 able and happy on much less than we ever dreamed of 
 before. 
 
 October 24. — Since writing in my diary, our plans have 
 been entirely changed. Our old friend, Mrs. K., offered us 
 rooms in Richmond, on such terms as are within our means, 
 and a remarkable circumstance connected with it is, that 
 they are in the house which my father once occupied, 
 and the pleasant chamber which I now occupy I left this 
 month twenty-nine .years ago. It is much more convenient 
 to live in Richmond than in Ashland, so that we have rented 
 the little cottage to another. One room answers the pur- 
 pose of dining-room and sleeping-room, by putting a large 
 
OCTOBER, 1863. 241 
 
 screen around the bed; the girls have a room, and we use 
 the parlour of the family for entertaining our guests. For 
 this we pay $60 per month and half of the gas bill. 
 
 But this has been a sad, sad month to me, and I find it 
 very difficult to bring my mind to attend to the ordinary 
 affairs of life. On the 11th of this month, our nephew, Cap- 
 tain William B. Newton, was killed while leading a cavalry 
 charge in Culpeper County. We have the consolation of 
 believing that his redeemed spirit has passed into heaven; 
 but to how many has the earth been left desolate ! His 
 young wife and three lovely children; his father, mother, 
 sisters, brothers, uncles and aunts, have seen the pride of 
 their hearts pass away. His country mourns him as a great 
 public loss. The bar, the legislative hall, and the camp 
 proudly acknowledge his brilliant talents. In peace, the 
 country looked to him as one to whom her best interests 
 would hereafter be intrusted; in war, as one of the most 
 gallant officers on the field. An early and ardent Seces- 
 sionist, he was among the first to turn from the delightful 
 home circle, where he ever sought his happiness, to go to 
 the defence of right. He came into the field as First 
 Lieutenant of the Hanover Troop; shortly after became 
 its Captain, loved and revered by his men ; and the commis- 
 sion of Lieutenant-Colonel of his regiment, the Fourth 
 Virginia Cavalry, was on its way to him; but, alas 1 alas 1 
 it reached its destination a few hours too late. Cod be 
 
 with my precious and her sweet children ! I long and 
 
 yet dread to go to that once bright home, the light of which 
 has faded forever. 
 
 I was shocked to hear that on the fatal Sunday on which 
 my darling William fell, three of our E. H. S. boys had 
 come to a glorious, though untimely end, on the same field — 
 11 
 
242 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 Surgeon John Nelson, Lieutenant Lomax Tayloe, and Pri- 
 vate J. Vivian Towles; and at Bristow Station, a few days 
 afterwards, dear little Willie Robinson, son of my old friends, 
 Mr. Conway and Mrs. Mary Susan Robinson. He was but 
 eighteen. I attended his funeral on Wednesday last, aud 
 there learned that he was a devoted Christian. These dear 
 boys ! Oh, I trust that they sprang from the din of the 
 battle-field to the peace of heaven ! Lord, how long must 
 we suffer such things ? 
 
 2bth. — To-day we heard the Rev. Mr. Peterkin, from 
 the text : " Be not weary in well-doing." It was a delight- 
 ful sermon, persuasive and encouraging. Mr. spends 
 
 Sunday morning always in the hospital. He has Hospital 
 No. 1, in addition to the Officers' Hospital, under his care. 
 They occupy a great deal of his time, in the most interest 
 ing way. 
 
 2'UA. — I was surprised this morning by a precious visit 
 from S. S. She went to Petersburg this evening, to join 
 her husband, who is stationed there. She seems to think 
 that she can never return to her Winchester home, so com- 
 pletely is every thing ruined. It is strange how we go on 
 from month to month, living in the present, without any 
 certain prospect for the future. We had some sweet, sad 
 talk of our dear William. She says he was prepared, and 
 God took him. At his funeral, his pastor took out his 
 last letter from him, but became so overwhelmed with tears 
 that he could not read it. It is right, and we must submit; 
 but it is a bitter trial to give up one we loved so dearly. 
 
 28th. — Our niece, M. P., came for me to go with her on 
 a shopping expedition. It makes me sad to find our money 
 depreciating so much, except that I know it was worse 
 during the old Revolution. A merino dress cost $150, 
 
NOVEMBEK, 1863. 2±3 
 
 long cloth $5.50 per yard, fine cotton stockings $6 per pair; 
 handkerchiefs, for which we gave fifty cents before the war, 
 are now $5. There seems no scarcity of dry-goods of the 
 ordinary kinds; bombazines, silks, etc., are scarce and very 
 high; carpets are not to be found — they are too large to 
 run the blockade from Baltimore, from which city many of 
 our goods come. 
 
 November 9. — We are now quite comfortably fixed, in 
 what was once my mother's chamber, and most unexpectedly 
 we have a carpet. The other day, while entertaining some 
 friends, in this chamber by night, dining-room by day, and 
 parlour ever and anon, Mrs. Secretary Mallory walked in, 
 who, like ourselves, has had many ups-and-downs during 
 the Confederacy, and therefore her kind heart knows exactly 
 how to sympathize with others. While talking away, she 
 suddenly observed that there was no carpet on the floor, 
 
 and exclaimed, " Mrs. , you have no carpet I My 
 
 boxes have just come from Montgomery, where I left them 
 two years ago, filled with carpets and bedding. I have 
 five, and I will lend you one. Don't say a word; I couldn't 
 be comfortable, and think of you with this bare floor. 
 
 Mr. ■ is too delicate for it, and you are both too old to 
 
 begin now on an uncarpeted room." An hour after she left 
 us a servant came with the carpet, which was soon 
 tacked down, and gives a home-like, comfortable air to the 
 room. 
 
 11th. — Just received a visit from my nephew, W. N., 
 who is on his way to Fauquier to be married. I had not 
 seen him since he lost his leg. He is still on crutches, and 
 it made my heart bleed to see him walk with such difficulty. 
 I believe that neither war, pestilence, nor famine could put 
 an end to the marrying and giving in marriage which is 
 
244 DIARY OP A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 constantly going on. Strange that these sons of Mars can 
 so assiduously devote themselves to Cupid and Hymen; but 
 every respite, every furlough, must be thus employed. I 
 am glad they can accomplish it; and if the "brave deserve 
 the fair," I am sure that the deeds of daring of our South- 
 ern soldiers should have their reward. My niece, L. B., of 
 Lexington, would have been married to-morrow night, but 
 her betrothed, Captain S., has been ordered off to meet the 
 enemy. The marriage is, of course, postponed. Poor 
 fellow ! I trust that he may come safely home. 
 
 I have just written to Colonel Northrup, Commissary- 
 General, to ask an appointment as clerk in his department. 
 So many of the young men have been ordered to the field, 
 that this office has been open to ladies. My cousin, Colonel 
 F. G. Ruffiu, of the same office, has interested himself for 
 me. They require us to say that we are really in want of 
 the office — rather a work of supererogation, I should say, 
 as no lady would bind herself to keep accounts for six hours 
 per day without a dire necessity. 
 
 13th. — My appointment to a clerkship in the Commissary 
 Department has been received, with' a salary of $125 per 
 month. The rooms are not ready for us to begin our 
 duties, and Colonel It. has just called to tell me one of the 
 requirements. As our duties are those of accountants, we 
 are to go through a formal examination in arithmetic. If 
 we do not, as the University boys say, " pass," we are con- 
 sidered incompetent, and of course are dropped from the 
 list of appointees. This requirement may be right, but it 
 certainly seems to me both provoking and absurd that I 
 must be examined in arithmetic by a commissary major 
 young enough to be my son. If I could afford it, I would 
 give up the appointment, but, as it is, must submit with the 
 
DECEMBER, 1863. 245 
 
 best grace possible, particularly as other ladies of my age 
 have to submit to it. 
 
 November 15. — Went this morning to Church and 
 
 heard the Gospel preached, but in a manner so dull, and in 
 a voice so monotonous, that I did not hear with much 
 profit. I mourn that I did not, for I believe that some of 
 the most God-serving, and therefore efficient ministers, are 
 those who are not attractive as preachers, and there must 
 be some defect in the listener who is not profited by the 
 Gospel preached in spirit and in truth, though not set forth 
 in an attractive form. I would that our best preachers 
 could be sent to the field, for the soldiers, having such 
 temptations to spending the Sabbath in idleness, should 
 have tie Gospel made impressive and interesting, so that 
 they may be induced to attend the services and to enjoy 
 them. 
 
 W. N. and his sweet bride passed through town this 
 week. It was very pleasant to see how she understood his 
 wants; how naturally she would open the doors, gates, etc., 
 and assist him in walking up and down steps. I trust he 
 may soon be able to give up his crutches. L. B. is also 
 married and in town, staying at Judge M's. Captain S. 
 returned from the wars a few nights after the one ap- 
 pointed, and was married in quite the old style of brides- 
 maids and groomsmen, with a bridal supper which I am told 
 reminded one of peace times. 
 
 Our army does not seem prospering in the West. Bragg 
 has fallen back. We long to hear better things. A battle 
 seems imminent on the Rappahannock ; ninety-three wagons 
 filled with ammunition were yesterday captured by Colonel 
 Rosser— a good capture, at a good time. 
 
 December 4. — On Friday last there was a severe fight 
 
246 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 on the Rapidan, at Gerrnanna Ford. The enemy were 
 splendidly repulsed; but my dear Raleigh T. Colston, Lieu- 
 tenant-Colonel of the Second Regiment, was shot through 
 his left leg, which was amputated on the field. I thank 
 God that he is doing well, and feel so thankful that his life 
 was spared I His mother was in Powhatan, on a visit to one 
 of her daughters; but, becoming uneasy at seeing that Gen- 
 eral Edward Johnson's Division had been engaged, imme- 
 diately came to Richmond. The cars arrived at night, and 
 she came directly to our rooms. We were surprised to see 
 her, and I, supposing that she had heard of her son's misfor- 
 tune, was about to say what I could to relieve her mind, 
 when she exclaimed, " I know that my sons are safe, from 
 your countenance." "Yes," said I; "W. is safe, and R 
 is doing well ; he was wounded in his leg." " Severely ?" 
 she asked. " His left leg has been amputated below the 
 knee; he is at the University, under the care of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Minor and his sisters, and is doing remarkably well. 
 Colonel Ruffin received a telegram to-day, and I a letter." 
 She passed her hand across her eyes for a minute, and said, 
 " Thank God, his life is spared !" Next morning she left us 
 for the University. 
 
 General Bragg has met with a repulse in the South-west, 
 and was pursued; but, being reinforced, has again attacked 
 the enemy and repulsed them. This occurred in the North- 
 western part of Georgia. The papers say that the enemy 
 under General Grant has retreated towards Chattanooga. 
 Longstreet, when last heard from, was at Knoxville. Meade, 
 on the Rapidan, after having been in line of battle for 
 several days, has fallen back, finding that General Lee was 
 ready to meet him. 
 
 December 6. — I this morning attended the funeral of Mr. 
 
DECEMBER, 1SG3. 247 
 
 John Seddon, brother of the Secretary of War. It was a 
 most solemn occasion; he was a man of fine talents and 
 high character. The Rev. Dr. Moore, of the Presbyterian 
 Church, preached a most beautiful sermon. 
 
 December 12. — To-day I was examined on arithmetic — ■ 
 " Denominate numbers, vulgar and decimal fractions, tare 
 and tret," etc., etc., by Major Brewer, of the Commissary 
 Department. I felt as if I had returned to my childhood. 
 But for the ridiculousness of the thing, I dare say I 
 should have been embarrassed. On Monday I am to enter 
 on the duties of the office. We are to work from nine till 
 three. 
 
 We have just received from our relatives in the country 
 some fine Irish and sweet potatoes, cabbages, butter, sau- 
 sages, chines, and a ham; and from a friend in town two 
 pounds of very good green tea. These things are very ac- 
 ceptable, as potatoes are twelve dollars per bushel, pork and 
 bacon two dollars fifty cents per pound, and good tea at 
 twenty-five dollars per pound. How are the poor to live ? 
 Though it is said that the poor genteel are the real suffer- 
 ers. Money is laid aside for paupers by every one who can 
 possibly do it, but persons who do not let their wants be 
 known are the really poor. 
 
 Sunday, Dec. 13. — The first anniversary of the battle of 
 Fredericksburg, where we lost so many valuable lives, and 
 where the Federals were thoroughly whipped. Since that 
 time we have lost many lives, which nothing can repay; but 
 we hold our own, have had some victories, and have been 
 upon the whole much blessed by God. At St. James's 
 Church, this morning, and heard a very fine sermon from 
 the Rev. Mr. Peterkin, from the text, "Blessed are the 
 poor in spirit." To-night we expect to hear Bishop Lay. 
 
18 64. 
 
 January 1, 1864. — A melancholy pause in my diary. 
 After returning from church on the night of the 13th, a 
 telegram was handed me from Professor Minor, of the Uni- 
 versity of Virginia, saying, " Come at once, Colonel Colston 
 is extremely ill." After the first shock was over, I wrote 
 an explanatory note to Major Brewer, why I could not be 
 at the office next day, packed my trunk, and was in the 
 cars by seven in the morning. That evening I reached the 
 University, and found dear R. desperately ill with pneumo- 
 nia, which so often follows, as in the case of General Jack- 
 son, the amputation of limbs. Surgeons Davis and Cabell 
 were in attendance, and R's uncle, Dr. Brockenbrough, 
 arrived the next day. After ten days of watching and nurs- 
 ing, amid alternate hopes and fears, we saw our friend Dr. 
 Maupin close our darling's eyes, on the morning of the 23d; 
 and on Christmas-day a military escort laid him among 
 many brother soldiers in the Cemetery of the University of 
 Virginia. He died in the faith of Christ, and with the glo- 
 rious hope of immortality. His poor mother is heart-stricken, 
 but she, together with his sisters, and one dearer still, had 
 the blessed, and what is now the rare privilege, of soothing 
 and nursing him in his last hours. To them, and to us all, 
 his life seemed as a part of our own. His superior judgment 
 and affectionate temper made him the guide of his whole 
 
January, IS 64. 249 
 
 family. To them his loss can never be supplied. His coun- 
 try has lost one of its earliest and best soldiers. Having 
 been educated at the Virginia Military Institute, he raised 
 and drilled a company in Ms native County of Berkeley, at 
 the time of the John Brown raid. In 1861 he again led 
 that company to Harper's Ferry. From that time he was 
 never absent more than a week or ten days from his com- 
 mand, and even when wounded at Gaines's Mills, he ab- 
 sented himself but three days, and was again at his post 
 during the several last days of those desperate fights. His 
 fatal wound was received in his nineteenth general engage- 
 ment, in none of which had he his superior in bravery and 
 devotion to the cause. He was proud of belonging 
 to the glorious Stonewall Brigade, and I have been told 
 by those who knew the circumstances, that he was con- 
 fided in and trusted by General Jackson to a remarkable 
 degree. 
 
 Thus we bury, one by one, the dearest, the brightest, the 
 best of our domestic circles. Now, in our excitement, while 
 we are scattered, and many of us homeless, these separa- 
 tions are poignant, nay, overwhelming* but how can we es- 
 timate the sadness of heart which will pervade the South 
 when the war is over, and we are again gathered together 
 around our family hearths and altars, and find the circles 
 broken? One and another gone. Sometimes the father 
 and husband, the beloved head of the household, in whom 
 was centred all that made life dear. Again the eldest son 
 and brother of the widowed home, to whom all looked for 
 guidance and direction; or, perhaps, that bright youth, on 
 whom we had not ceased to look as still a child, whose fair, 
 beardless cheek we had but now been in the habit of smooth- 
 ing with our hands in fondness — one to whom mother and 
 11* 
 
250 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 sisters would always give the good-uight kiss, as his pecu- 
 liar due, and repress the sigh that would arise at the thought 
 that college or business days had almost come to take him 
 from us. And then we will remember the mixed feeling of 
 hope and pride when we first saw this household pet don 
 his jacket of gray and shoulder his musket for the field; 
 how we would be bright and cheerful before him, and turu 
 to our chambers to weep oceans of tears when he is fairly 
 gone. And does he, too, sleep his last sleep ? Does our 
 precious one fill a hero's grave ? God ! help us, for the 
 wail is in the whole land ! " Rachel weeping for her chil- 
 dren, and will not be comforted, because they are not." In 
 all the broad South there will be scarcely a fold without 
 its missing lamb, a fireside without its vacant chair. And 
 yet we must go on. It is our duty to rid our land of inva- 
 ders; we must destroy the snake which is endeavouring to 
 entwine us in its coils, though it drain our heart's blood. We 
 know that we are right in the sight of God, and that we must 
 
 " With patient mind our course of duty run. 
 God nothing does, or suffers to be done, 
 But we would do ourselves, if we could see 
 The end of all events as well as He." 
 
 The Lord reigneth, be the earth never so unquiet. 
 
 January 3. — Entered on the duties of my office on the 
 30th of December. So far I like it well. " The Major" is 
 very kind, and considerate of our comfort; the duties of the 
 office are not very onerous, but rather confining for one who 
 left school thirty-four years ago, and has had no restraint 
 of the kind during the interim. The ladies, thirty-five 
 in number, are of all ages, and representing various parts 
 of Virginia, also Maryland and Louisiana. Many of 
 
JANUARY, 1864. 251 
 
 them are refugees. It is melancholy to see how many 
 wear mourning for brothers or other relatives, the victims 
 of war. One sad young girl sits near rae, whose two 
 brothers have fallen on the field, but she is too poor to 
 buy mourning. I found many acquaintances, and when I 
 learned the history of others, it was often that of fallen 
 fortunes and destroyed homes. One young lady, of high- 
 sounding Maryland name, was banished from Baltimore, 
 because of her zeal in going to the assistance of our Get- 
 tysburg wounded. The society is pleasant, and we hope to 
 get along very agreeably. I am now obliged to visit the 
 hospital in the afternoon, and I give it two evenings in the 
 week. It is a cross to me not to be able to give it more 
 time; but we have very few patients just now, so that it 
 makes very little difference. 
 
 January 15. — Nothing new from the armies — all quiet. 
 At home we are in statu quo, except that we have had 
 a very agreeable accession to our family party in the person 
 of Colonel C. P. M. Gr. He sleeps in his office, and messes 
 with us. He cheers us every day by bringing the latest 
 news, in the most pleasant form which the nature of the 
 case will admit. My occupation at home just now is 
 as new as that in the office— it is shoe-making. I am 
 busy upon the second pair of gaiter boots. They are 
 made of canvas, presented me by a friend. It was 
 taken from one of our James River vessels, and has been 
 often spread to the breeze, under the " Stars and Bars." 
 The vessel was sunk among the obstructions at Drury's 
 Bluff. The gaiters are cut out by a shoemaker, stitched 
 and bound by the ladies, then soled by a shoemaker, for 
 the moderate sum of fifty dollars. Last year he put soles 
 on a pair for ten dollars. They are then blacked with the 
 
252 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN" REFUGEE. 
 
 material used for blacking guns in tbe navy. They are 
 very handsome gaiters, and bear polishing by blacking and 
 the shoe-brush as well as morocco. They are lasting, and 
 very cheap when compared with those we buy, which are 
 from $125 to $150 per pair. We are certainly becoming 
 very independent of foreign aid. The girls make beautifully 
 fitting gloves, of dark flannel, cloth, linen, and any other 
 material we can command. We make very nice blacking, 
 and a friend has just sent me a bottle of brilliant black 
 ink, made of elderberries. 
 
 February 15. — A pause in my diary ; but nothing of 
 importance has occurred, either at home or with the country. 
 The armies are mud-bound — I wish they could continue so. 
 I dread the approach of Spring, with its excitements and 
 horrors. 
 
 Prices of provisions have risen enormously — bacon $8 
 per pound, butter $15, etc. Our old friends from the lower 
 
 part of Esses, Mr. 's parishioners for many years, sent 
 
 over a wagon filled most generously with all manner of ne- 
 cessary things for our larder. We have no right to com 
 plain, for Providence is certainly supplying our wants. The 
 clerks' salaries, too, have been raised to $250 per month, 
 which sounds very large ; but when we remember that flour 
 is $300 per barrel, it sinks into insignificance. 
 
 2Sth. — Our hearts ache for the poor. A few days ago, 
 as E. was walking out, she met a wretchedly dressed wo- 
 man, of miserable appearance, who said she was seeking 
 the Young Men's Christian Association, where she hoped 
 to get assistance and work to do. E. carried her to the 
 door, but it was closed, and the poor woman's wants were 
 pressing. She then brought her home, supplied her with 
 food, and told her to return to see me the following after- 
 
FEBRUARY, ISCi. 253 
 
 noon. She came, and with an honest countenance and 
 maimer told me her history. Her name is Brown ; her 
 husband had been a workman in Fredericksburg; he joined 
 the army, and was killed at the second battle of Manassas. 
 Many of her acquaintances in Fredericksburg fled last 
 winter during the bombardment ; she became alarmed, and 
 with her three little children fled too. She had tried to 
 get work in Eichmond ; sometimes she succeeded, but could 
 not supply her wants. A kind woman had lent her a room 
 and a part of a garden, but it was outside of the corpora- 
 tion ; and although it saved house-rent, it debarred her 
 from the relief of the associations formed for supplying the 
 city poor with meal, wood, etc. She had evidently been in 
 a situation little short of starvation. I asked her if she 
 could get bread enough for her children by her work ? She 
 said she could sometimes, and when she could not, she " got 
 turnip-tops from her piece of a garden, which were now 
 putting up smartly, and she boiled them, with a little salt, 
 and fed them on that." " But do they satisfy your hunger," 
 said I ? " Well, it is something to go upon for awhile, 
 but it does not stick by us like as bread does, and then we 
 gets hungry again, and I am afraid to let the children eat 
 them too often, lest they should get sick ; so I tries to get 
 them to go to sleep ; and sometimes the woman in the 
 next room will bring the children her leavings, but she is 
 monstrous poor." When I gave her meat for her children, 
 taken from the bounty of our Essex friends, tears of grat- 
 itude ran down her cheeks ; she said they " had not seen 
 meat for so long." Poor thing, I promised her that her 
 case should be known, and that she should not suffer so 
 again. A soldier's widow shall not suffer from hunger in 
 Eichmond. It must not be, and will not be when her case 
 
254 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 is known. Others are now interested for her. This evening 
 Mrs. R. and myself went in pursuit of her; but though we 
 went through all the streets and lanes of " Butcher Plat" 
 and other vicinities, we could get no clue to her. We 
 went into many small and squalid-looking houses, yet we 
 saw no such abject poverty as Mrs. Brown's. All who 
 needed it were supplied with meal by the corporation, and 
 many were supporting themselves with Government work. 
 One woman stood at a table cutting out work ; we asked 
 her the stereotyped question — " Is there a very poor widow 
 named Brown in this direction ?" " No, ladies; I knows two 
 Mrs. Browns, but they ain't so poor, and ain't no widows 
 nuther." As neither of them was our Mrs. B., we turned 
 away ; but she suddenly exclaimed, " Ladies, will one of 
 you read my husband's last letter to me ? for you see I can't 
 read writing." As Mrs. R. took it, she remarked that it 
 was four weeks old, and asked if no one had read it to 
 her?" Oh yes, a gentleman has read it to me four or five 
 times ; but you see I loves to hear it, for may-be I shan't 
 hear from him no more." The tears now poured down her 
 cheeks. " He always writes to me every chance, and it has 
 been so long since he wrote that, and they tell me that they 
 have been fighting, and may-be something has happened to 
 him." We assured her that there had been no fighting — 
 not even a skirmish. This quieted her, and Mrs. R. read 
 the badly written but affectionate letter, in which he ex- 
 presses his anxiety to see her and his children, and his in- 
 ability to get a furlough. She then turned to the mantel- 
 piece, and with evident pride took from a nail an old felt 
 hat, through the crown of which were two bullet-holes. 
 It was her husband's hat, through which a bullet had 
 passed in the battle of Chancellorsville, and, as she remark- 
 
march, 1864. 255 
 
 ed, must have come " very nigh grazing his head." We 
 remarked upon its being a proof of his bravery, which grat- 
 ified her very much ; she then hung it up carefully, saying 
 that it was just opposite her bed, and she never let it be 
 out of her sight. She said she wanted her husband to 
 fight for his country, and not " to stand back, like some 
 women's husbands, to be drafted; she would have been 
 ashamed of that, but she felt uneasy, because something 
 told her that he would never get back." Poor woman ! 
 we felt very much interested in her, and tried to comfort 
 her. 
 
 March 10. — There has been much excitement in Richmond 
 about Kilpatrick's and Dahlgren's raids, and the death of the 
 latter. The cannon roared around the city, the alarm-bell 
 rang, the reserves went out ; but Richmond was safe, and 
 we felt no alarm. As usual, they did all the injury they 
 could to country-people, by pillaging and burning. They 
 steal every thing they can; but the people have become 
 very adroit in hiding. Bacon, flour, etc., are put in most 
 mysterious places; plate and handsome china are kept under 
 ground; horses are driven into dense woods, and the cattle 
 and sheep are driven off. It is astonishing, though much is 
 taken, how much is left. I suppose the raiders are too 
 much hurried for close inspection. 
 
 20th. — Our Lent services in St. Paul's Lecture-room, at 
 seven o'clock in the morning, are delightful. The room is 
 always crowded to overflowing — the old, the young, the 
 grave, the gay, collect there soon after sunrise; also mili- 
 tary officers in numbers. When General Lee is in town, as 
 he now is, he is never absent, and always one of the most 
 devout worshippers. Within a few days I have seen Gen- 
 eral Whiting there; also Generals Ransom, Pegram, and 
 
256 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 others. Starred officers of all grades, colouels, majors, 
 etc., together with many others belonging to the rank and 
 file; and civilians of every degree. It is delightful to see 
 them, all bending together before high Heaven, imploring 
 the help which we so much need. 
 
 The Transportation Office is just opposite to us, where 
 crowds of furloughed soldiers, returning to their commands, 
 are constantly standing waiting for transportation. As I 
 pass them on my way to the office in the morning, I al- 
 ways stop to have a cheerful word with them. Yesterday 
 morning I said to them: " Gentlemen, whom do you suppose 
 I have seen this morning?" In answer to their inquiring 
 looks, I said: "General Lee." "General Lee," they ex- 
 claimed: " I did not know he was in town; God bless him I" 
 and they looked excited, as if they were about to burst 
 forth with "Hurrah for General Lee!" "And where do 
 you suppose I saw him so early V " Where, Madam — 
 where?" " At prayer-meeting, down upon his knees, pray- 
 ing for you aud for the country." In an instant they seemed 
 subdued ; tears started to the eyes of many of those hardy, 
 sunburnt veterans. Some were utterly silent, while others 
 exclaimed, with various ejaculations, " God bless him !" 
 "God bless his dear old soul 1" etc. As I walked away, 
 some followed me to know where he was to be seen. One 
 had never seen him at all, and wanted to see him "mon- 
 strous bad;" others had seen him often, but wanted to see 
 him in town, "just to look at him." I told them where his 
 family residence was, but as they feared that they could 
 not leave the Transportation Office long enough to find 
 " Franklin Street," I dare say the poor fellows did not see 
 General Lee. This morning I had almost the same conver- 
 sation with another crowd in the same place. It is delight- 
 
April, 1864. 257 
 
 ful to see how they reverence him, and almost as much for 
 his goodness as for his greatness. 
 
 April 1. — My diary has been somewhat neglected, for 
 after looking over commissary accounts for six hours in the 
 day, and attending to home or hospital duties in the after- 
 noon, I am too much wearied to write much at night. 
 There are reports of movements in the armies which portend 
 bloody work as the season advances. Oh that the Lord 
 may have us in his holy keeping ! 
 
 We continue quite comfortable at home. Of course pro- 
 visions are scarce; but, thanks to our country friends and 
 relatives, we have never been obliged to give up meat en- 
 tirely. My brother-in-law, Mr. N., has lately sent us twelve 
 hams, so that we are much better supplied than most per- 
 sons. Groceries are extremely high. "We were fortunate 
 in buying ten pounds of tea, when it only sold for $22 per 
 pound. Coffee now sells for $12. and brown sugar at $10 
 per pound. White sugar is not to be thought of by persons 
 of moderate means. Milk is very scarce and high, so that 
 we have only had it once for many months; and we, the 
 
 Colonel, Mr. , and myself, are very glad to get a cup 
 
 of tea, night and morning, sweetened with brown sugar, 
 and without milk or cream. Before the war we would have 
 scorned it, but now we enjoy it exceedingly, and feel our- 
 selves very much blessed to have it. The girls have given 
 up tea and coffee; I attempted to do it, and for several 
 days drank only water, but such is the effect of habit upon 
 old people, it made me perfectly miserable; I lost my elas- 
 ticity of spirit; the accounts in the office went on heavily, 
 everybody asked me if I had heard any bad news, and the 
 family begged me not to look so unhappy. I struggled and 
 strived against the feeling, but the girls pronounced me ut- 
 
258 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 teriy subjugated, and insisted on my returning to my old 
 beverage. I found myself much more easily persuaded 
 than it is my wont to be, and was happy to resume my 
 brown-sugar tea without cream. 
 
 On going down-stairs this evening, I found my friend 
 Mrs. Upshur awaiting me in the parlour. She is the widow 
 of the Hon. Abel P. Upshur, Secretary of War in Mr. 
 Tyler's administration, whose untimely end we remember so 
 well. She is a refugee from Washington, and called to ask 
 me to assist her in finding a room to accommodate herself, 
 her sister, and her little grandson. Her present room, in the 
 third story of a very nice house, suited her very well, but 
 the price was raised every month, until it had become be- 
 yond her means. She is rich, but it is almost impossible for 
 her to get funds from Washington. To obtain a room is a 
 most difficult task, but I cheerfully promised her to do what 
 I could ; but that I must first go up the street to get some 
 flour, for as it was $300 per barrel, we could not get one, 
 but must purchase it at $1.25 per pound, until we could get 
 some wheat, which we were then expecting from the coun- 
 try, and have it ground. She at once insisted on lendiug 
 me flour until ours was ground; this being agreed to, we 
 continued on our walk in pursuit of the room. We natu- 
 rally talked of the past. She related to me a circumstance 
 which occurred when I was a young girl, and was a strik- 
 ing illustration of the change which time and the war had 
 brought on us both. She said that during the political 
 Convention of 1B29-30, she came to Richmond with her hus- 
 band, who was a member of it. The first entertainment to 
 which she was invited was given at my father's house. When 
 she entered the room my mother was standing about the 
 centre of it, receiving her guests, and seeing that Mrs. Up- 
 
April, 1S64. 259 
 
 shur was young and a perfect stranger, she took her by the 
 hand and seated her by Mrs. Madison, at the same time in- 
 troducing her to that celebrated woman. She said it was 
 one of the most pleasant evenings of her life, and she 
 looked back upon, it with peculiar satisfaction, for she was 
 then introduced to Mr. Madison, Mr. Monroe, Mr. Benja- 
 min Watkins Leigh, and many others of the celebrated 
 men of the day, who were attending the Convention. Could 
 we then have looked through the vista of time, and have 
 seen ourselves in this same city, the one looking for a cheap 
 room iu somebody's third story, the other looking for cheap 
 bread, would we have believed it ? The anecdote saddened 
 us both for a time, but we soon recovered, and went on our 
 way in cheerful, hopeful conversation. But we did not find 
 the room. 
 
 April 25. — Our family in statu quo. The country in 
 great excitement. We have lately had a splendid little 
 victory at Plymouth, North Carolina. We have also had 
 successes in Florida, at Shreveport, and other places in the 
 South and South-west. The God of battles is helping us, 
 or how could we thus succeed ? This city is quite excited 
 by Mr. Memminger having ordered off the Note-signing 
 Department, consisting entirely of ladies, to Columbia, South 
 Carolina. It has caused much distress, for many of them, 
 whose living depends on the salary, can't possibly go. 
 Mothers cannot leave their children, nor wives their hus- 
 bands. No one seems to understand the motive which 
 prompted the order. It seems to be very arbitrary. It is 
 thought by some persons that all the departments will be 
 ordered off. I trust not; for I, among many others, would 
 be obliged to resign, and I cannot imagine how we would 
 live without the salary. I see no reason to believe that any 
 
260 DIARY OP A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 such move is intended, and I will not be unhappy about it. 
 " Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." 
 
 The enemy threatens Richmond, and is coming against it 
 with an immense army. They boast that they can and will 
 have it this summer; but, with the help of God, we hope to 
 drive them back again. Our Government is making every 
 effort to defeat them. I don't think that any one doubts 
 our ability to do it; but the awful loss of life necessary 
 upon the fights is what we dread. 
 
 April 27. — Another day and night have passed, and 
 nothing of importance has occurred to the country. We 
 are expecting movements in every direction. God ! 
 direct our leaders ! 
 
 Our daughter M. is with us, quite sick; her husband has 
 just arrived from North Carolina, where he is attached to 
 General Whiting's command. 
 
 29th. — The country seems to continue quiet, but the 
 campaign on the Rapidan is expected to open every day. 
 Oh, how I dread it ! The morning is bright and beautiful ; 
 it seems hardly possible that such strife is abroad in the 
 land. 
 
 May 2. — Just taken leave of J. J., who has gone to 
 Halifax, where the Bishop resides. It seems so strange 
 that she does not want to go to the country. If I could 
 only get to some quiet nook, some lodge in a vast wilder- 
 ness, where rumours of unsuccessful or successful war could 
 never reach me more, I think I should be happy. The 
 Bishop says it is too expensive here for his income, and so 
 it is for everybody's income, but were we to leave it we 
 should have none; our whole dependence is now upon the 
 Government, except the interest on a small amount invested 
 in Confederate bonds. 
 
may, 1863. 261 
 
 Our army, it is said, is fighting at or near Newbern, 
 North Carolina. I trust they are following up the Ply- 
 mouth victory. 
 
 Tuesday Morning, May 3. — Yesterday passed as usual. 
 We attended Mr. Peterkin's prayer-meeting before break- 
 fast, which we generally do, and which was very interest- 
 ing. Then came by market for our daily supplies; and at 
 
 nine I commenced my labour in the office, while Mr. 
 
 went to his hospital, which occupies a great deal of his 
 time. 
 
 Washington, North Carolina, has been evacuated by the 
 Federals, who have retired to Newbern. All quiet on the 
 Rapidan. Six steamers have run the blockade within a 
 few days, laden with ammunition, etc. Surely G-od is with 
 us. It is a delightful thing to contemplate that so many of 
 our officers of high position, who are leading and giving an 
 example to our soldiers, should be God-fearing men; from 
 the President and General Lee down, I believe a majority 
 of them are professing Christians. On Sunday I saw Gen- 
 eral R. Ransom (who has lately been put in command here) 
 and General Kemper, who has just recovered from the 
 wound received at Gettysburg, both at the communion- 
 table. 
 
 On Saturday our President had a most heart-rending ac- 
 cident in his family. His little son was playing on the back- 
 portico, fell over, and was picked up apparently lifeless. 
 Both parents were absent, nor did they get home in time to 
 see their child alive. The neighbours collected around him, 
 physicians were immediately called in, but the little fellow 
 could not be aroused; he breathed for about three-quarters 
 of an hour. His devoted parents returned to find their 
 boy, whom they had left two hours before full of " life in 
 
262 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 every limb," now cold in death. They have the deep 
 sympathy of the community. 
 
 May 5. — Our army on the Rapidan is in line of battle. 
 Grant is moving his mighty columns. Where the battle 
 will take place Heaven only knows. I pray that God may 
 be with us, and that the enemy may be driven far from our 
 borders. 
 
 We are now attending the prayer-meetings held by the 
 Young Men's Christian Association, which are very interest- 
 ing; three of them will be held this week for our dear army, 
 and for the battle now pending. 
 
 May 6, 1864. — The Federals are this morning ascending 
 James River, with a fleet of thirty-nine vessels — four moni- 
 tors among them. The battle between Lee and Grant 
 imminent. God help us ! We feel strengthened by the 
 prayers of so many good people. All the city seems quiet 
 and trusting. We feel that the Lord will keep the city. 
 AVe were at our own prayer-meeting at St. James's this 
 morning at half-past six. Yesterday evening we heard 
 most fervent prayers from the Young Men's Christian Asso- 
 ciation. To-day Dr. Reid's Church will be open all day for 
 prayer. I am sorry that I shall not be able to go before 
 the afternoon. 
 
 Grant's force is said to be between one hundred and fifty 
 and one hundred and eighty thousand men. The " battle 
 is not always to the strong," as we have often experienced 
 during the past three years. 
 
 We spent last evening at the Ballard House, with Dr. S. 
 and my dear S. She is hastening to her ill child; he must 
 return to his post; private griefs cannot now be indulged. 
 
 Sunday, May 8. — By the blessing of God, I now record 
 that, as far as heard from, our arms have been signally 
 
MAY, 1864. 263 
 
 victorious. On Thursday and Friday the enemy were driven 
 off, and the telegram of yesterday from General Lee spoke 
 of our cause as going on prosperously, and with compara- 
 tively little loss to us. Grant had been driven back, and 
 10,000 prisoners taken, but how far he has gone is not yet 
 known. General Lee's telegram last night was very en- 
 couraging; he speaks of having captured two major-gen- 
 erals and killed three brigadiers. We have not yet heard 
 of pur casualties, except in one or two iustances. We have 
 been dreadfully shocked by the death of Colonel William 
 Eandolph, of Clarke County. He fell on the 6th of May. 
 The country has lost no more devoted patriot, the army no 
 more gallant officer, and society no more brilliant member. 
 It was but last Sunday that his sister-in-law, Miss M. S., 
 said to me with natural pride and pleasure : " William 
 Randolph has been promoted; he is now colonel of the 
 Second." I expressed the pleasure which I then felt; but 
 as she passed out of the room, and my thoughts again 
 turned to the subject, a superstitious horror came over me, 
 and I said to those around me, " This is a fatal honour con- 
 ferred upon W. R.," and I could not get rid of the impres- 
 sion. The Second Regiment has invariably lost its field 
 officers. It is one of the most gallant regiments of the 
 Stonewall Brigade, and has frequently had what is called 
 the post of honour. Colonel Allen, Colonel Botts, Lieu- 
 tenant-Colonel Lackland, Lieutenant-Colonel Colston, Major 
 Jones, and now Colonel Randolph, have fallen ! and Colonel 
 Nadenboush, of the same regiment, has been so mutilated by 
 wounds, as to be obliged to retire from the service. 
 
 The fleet upon James River has landed about 30,000 or 
 40,000 troops. One of their gunboats ran upon a torpedo, 
 which blew it to atoms. We repulsed them near Port Wal- 
 
264 DIAEY OF A SOUTHEKN BEFUGEE. 
 
 thall. Yesterday they came with a very stroDg force upon the 
 Petersburg Railroad. They were too strong for us, and we 
 had to fall back; the enemy consequently took the road, and, 
 of course, injured it very much; but they have fallen back; 
 why, we do not know, unless they have heard of Grant's 
 failure. The alarm-bell is constantly ringing, making us 
 nervous and anxious. The militia have been called out, and 
 have left the city, but where they have gone I know not. 
 It is strange how little apprehension seems to be felt in the 
 city. Our trust is first in God, and, under Him, in our 
 brave men. At this moment Yankee prisoners are passing 
 by. I do not know where they were captured. Those 
 taken at the battle of " The Wilderness" were sent South. 
 
 I went to the Monumental Church this morning. Mr. 
 — — read the service, and Mr. Johnston, of Alexandria, 
 preached. 
 
 Wednesday, May 11. — The last three days have been 
 most exciting. The enemy on the south side of the river 
 have made heavy demonstrations; their force is perhaps 
 40,000; ours not half that number. The militia, the City 
 Battalion, and the clerks have gone from Richmond. They 
 have had a heavy fight at Port Walthall, and another near 
 Chester, in which we had, upon the whole, the advantage of 
 them. In the mean time a large body of raiders are going 
 over the country. They have cut the Central Railroad, and 
 burnt three trains of cars, laden with provisions for General 
 Lee's army, and are doing all manner of mischief to public 
 and private property. Not a word can we hear from Gen- 
 eral Lee, except through private telegrams sent from 
 Guiney's Station. The wires (telegraph) above that place 
 have been cut. Our accounts from Guiney's are very 
 encouraging. It is astonishing how quiet everybody is — all 
 
may, 1364. 265 
 
 owing, I must believe, to an abiding faith in the goodness 
 of God. Prayer-meetings are held in almost all the 
 churches, and we take great comfort in them. It seems 
 to me evident that the Lord is fighting our battles for 
 us. 
 
 The last was a most disturbed night. We knew that the 
 attaches of the War Department had received orders to 
 spend the night there, and our son had promised us that if 
 any thing exciting occurred he would come up and let us 
 know. We were first aroused by hearing a number of sol- 
 diers pass up Broad Street. I sprang up, and saw at least 
 a brigade passing by. As we were composing ourselves to 
 sleep, I heard several pebbles come against the window. 
 On looking out, I saw J. standing below. In a moment the 
 door was opened and he was in our room, with the informa- 
 tion, brought by a courier, that 7,000 raiders were within 
 sixteen miles of us, making their way to the city. He also 
 said that 3,000 infantry had marched to meet them. Every 
 lady in the house dressed immediately, and some of us went 
 down to the porch. There we saw ladies in every porch, 
 and walking on the pavements, as if it were evening. We 
 saw but one person who seemed really alarmed; every one 
 else seemed to expect something to occur to stop the raiders. 
 Our city had too often been saved as if by a miracle. About 
 two o'clock a telegram came from General Stuart that he 
 was in pursuit of the enemy. J. came up to bring us the 
 information, and we felt that all was right. In a Very short 
 time families had retired to their chambers, and quietness 
 reigned in this hitherto perturbed street. For ourselves, 
 we were soon asleep. To-day General Stuart telegraphs 
 that the enemy were overtaken at Ashland by Lomax's 
 Brigade, and handsomely repulsed. We have just heard 
 12 
 
266 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 that they have taken the road to Dover's Mills, and our 
 men are in hot pursuit. 
 
 Thursday, May 12. — The cannon is now roaring in our 
 ears. It cannot be more than three miles off. The Lord 
 reigneth; in that is our trust. There was a severe cavalry 
 fight yesterday morning, in which our brilliant cavalry leader, 
 General J. E. B. Stuart, was severely wounded. He was 
 brought to the city last night. One of his aids, our rela- 
 tive, Lieutenant T. S. Garnett, has told us with what 
 difficulty they got him here; in an ambulance, going out of 
 the way, hither and thither, to avoid the enemy; of course, 
 every jolt inflicting intense agony. He is now at the house 
 of his brother-in-law, Dr. Brewer, surrounded by the most 
 efficient surgeons and devoted friends. The prayers of the 
 community are with him. 
 
 My time, when out of the office, is much absorbed by 
 the hospital. Many wounded are brought in from both 
 sides of the river. This morning, as I entered St. James's 
 Church, I saw the smoke from the cannon distinctly. I 
 stood for a moment on the steps and listened to the con- 
 tinued roaring, and felt that the contest was fearfully near to 
 us. The prayers, hymns, psalms, and address were most 
 comforting. God be praised for his goodness, that we are 
 still surrounded by Christian people, and have the faith and 
 trust of Christians. The town is as calm as if it were not 
 the great object of desire to hundreds of thousands of im- 
 placable enemies, who desire nothing so much as its de- 
 struction. 
 
 General Lee's telegram last night gave us an account of 
 another repulse given General Grant, with great slaughter. 
 "We suffered little in comparison;" such was his telegram, 
 signed " R. B. Lee." His signature is always cheering to 
 
mat, 1864. 267 
 
 our people. For some time we had not seen it, in conse- 
 quence of cut telegraphic wires. Both armies are now 
 fortifying. The Yankees have such indomitable persever- 
 ance, that they will never give up. 
 
 May 13. — General Stuart died of his wounds last night, 
 twenty-four hours after he was shot. He was a member of 
 the Episcopal Church, and expressed to the Rev. Dr. 
 Peterkin his resignation to the •will of God. After much 
 conversation with his friends and Dr. P., and joining them 
 in a hymn which he requested should be sung, he calmly 
 resigned his redeemed spirit to the God who gave it. Thus 
 passed away our great cavalry general, just one year after 
 the immortal Jackson. This seems darkly mysterious to us, 
 but God's will be done. The funeral took place this even- 
 ing, from St. James's Church. My duty to the living pre- 
 vented my attending it, for which I am very sorry ; but I 
 was in the hospital from three o'clock until eight, soothing the 
 sufferers in the only way I could, by fanning them, bathing 
 their wounds, and giving them a word of comfort. Mr. 
 
 and others of our household were at the funeral. 
 
 They represent the scene as being very imposing. 
 
 lith. — The cavalry fight on the Chickahominy was very 
 severe. The Yankees escaped on Thursday night ; they 
 should not have been allowed to get off. Our sad defi- 
 ciency in numbers is always in our way. 
 
 The death of another of our beloved E. H. S. boys has 
 shocked us greatly — I mean that of Colonel Robert Ran- 
 dolph, of Fauquier, for a long time the chivalric captain 
 of the famous " Black Horse Company." After fighting 
 desperately for hours, he was ordered to change his position; 
 he immediately raised himself in his saddle, exclaiming, 
 " Boys, we will give them one round more before we go 1" 
 
268 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 fired, and was at that moment struck in the forehead by a 
 Minie ball, and laid low, a few hours after the fall of his 
 General. Thus our young men, of the first blood of the 
 country — first in character and education, and, what is more 
 important to us now, first in gallantry and patriotism — fall 
 one by one. What a noble army of martyrs has already 
 passed away ! I tremble for the future ; but we must not 
 think of the future. " Sufficient unto the day is the evil 
 thereof." 
 
 General Lee's last telegram tells of a furious fight on 
 Thursday, near Spottsylvania Court-House. The enemy was- 
 repulsed, and driven back ; and yet General Grant prepares 
 for a fresh attack. It is said that 15,000 wounded Yan- 
 kees are in Fredericksburg. We have heard cannon 
 all day in the direction of Drury's Bluff ; yet we are 
 calm! 
 
 Tuesday Morning, May IT. — For some days the can- 
 non has been resounding in our ears, from the south side of 
 James River. Colonel Garnett has come in to tell us that 
 for the first two days there was only heavy skirmishing, but 
 that on yesterday there was a terrific fight all along the 
 lines. Yesterday evening a brigadier, his staff, and 840 
 meu, were lodged in the Libby Prison. Nothing definite 
 has been heard since that time. The impression is, that we 
 have been generally successful. Very brilliant reports are 
 afloat on the streets, but whether they are reliable is the 
 question. My nephew, Major B., has just called to tell me 
 that his brother W. is reported " missing." His battery 
 suffered dreadfully, and he has not been seen. God grant 
 that he may be only a prisoner! We suppose that it would 
 have been known to the fragment of his battery which is 
 left, if he had fallen. 
 
may, 1864. 269 
 
 18th. — W. B. certainly captured. I thank God for it, 
 as the least of casualties. 
 
 Generals Lee and Grant still fighting. 
 
 On the south side, Beauregard has driven Butler to 
 Bermuda Hundreds, where he is under shelter of his gun- 
 boats. Oh! when will this fearful state of things end ? 
 
 23d. — Our young relative, Lieutenant G., a member of 
 General Stuart's staff, who was always near his person, 
 has just been giving us a most gratifying account of General 
 Stuart's habits. He says, that although he considered him 
 ' one of the most sprightly men he has ever seen, devoted to 
 society, particularly to that of the ladies, always social and 
 cheerful, yet he has never seen him do any thing, even 
 under the strongest excitement, unbecoming his Christian 
 profession or his high position as a soldier; he never saw 
 him drink, or heard an oath escape his lips; his sentiments 
 were always high-minded, pure, and honourable, and his ac- 
 tions entirely coincided with them. In short, he considered 
 him, whether on the field or in the private circle, the model 
 of a Christian gentleman and soldier. When speaking of 
 his gallantry as an officer, Lieutenant G's admiration knows 
 no bounds. He speaks of the devotion of the soldiers to 
 him as enthusiastic in the extreme. The evening before his 
 fatal wound, he sent his troops on in pursuit of Sheridan, 
 under the command of General Fitz Lee, as he was un- 
 avoidably detained for some three or four hours. General 
 Lee overtook the enemy, and a sharp skirmish ensued, in 
 which Sheridan's rear suffered very much. In the mean time, 
 General Stuart determined to overtake General Lee, and, 
 with his staff, rode very rapidly sixteen miles, and reached 
 him about nightfall. They were halting for a few moments, 
 as General Stuart rode up quietly, no one suspecting he was 
 
270 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 there, until a plain-looking soldier crossed the road, stopped, 
 peered through the darkness into his face, and shouted out, 
 " Old Jeb has come I" In an instant the air was rent with 
 huzzas. General Stuart waved his cap in recognition; but 
 called out in rather a sad voice, " My friends, we won't 
 halloo until we get out of the woods 1" intimating that 
 there was serious work before them. At that hour the 
 next night he was pursuing his weary and suffering way to 
 Eichmond. A friend, who knows how much I regretted 
 not being able to serve General Stuart in any way, or even 
 to be at his funeral, has been so kind as to write me a 
 minute account of his sickness, death, and burial. "Per- 
 haps (she says) it is not generally known how entirely 
 General Stuart sacrificed his life to save Richmond. An 
 officer of high rank, who knew the circumstances, told me 
 that in all the war there was not one man more truly a mar- 
 tyr to our cause. In the many raids upon Richmond there 
 was none in which we seemed in such imminent peril as the 
 one in which General Stuart has just fallen. How we 
 listened, and watched, and prayed, as the cannon sounded 
 nearer and nearer, and even the volleys of musketry could 
 be heard out on the roads by which the enemy were ap- 
 proaching ! We knew that General Stuart had a baud of 
 about 2,000 cavalry against overwhelming odds on the 
 Yankee side, and that he knew that upon this 2,000 men 
 alone it depended to bar the enemy's approach on that side. 
 He met the Yankees, 5,000 strong, beat them back, and 
 fell in the encounter ! It was with difficulty that he could 
 be rescued from those who were bearing him away, but one 
 of his own troopers saved him, and with his staff and sur- 
 geon (Dr. John Fontaine) bore him to the city. We.heard 
 that he was dying, and, in spite of the anxiety and confu- 
 
MAY, 1S64. 271 
 
 sicm reigning at such a time, many of us rushed to Dr. 
 Brewer's house to hear tidings of the beloved commander, 
 whose gallantry, whose youthful gayety and chivalrous 
 character, made him the prince among our cavalry officers. 
 His life was ebbing out from internal hemorrhage; but his 
 senses were as clear and his mind as calm as noontide. He 
 asked repeatedly for his wife, who, though but fifteen miles 
 away, could not, be reached, so completely was the city 
 hemmed in by the enemy. By his side stood our President, 
 who, upon hearing of his situation, had hastened to thank 
 him in "the name of his country. ' I have but done my 
 duty,' was the soldier's reply. And near him was the min- 
 ister of God, good Mr. Peterkin, of whose church (Episco- 
 pal) General S. was a member. He asked for his favourite 
 hymn, and joined his feeble voice with the touching words : 
 ' I would not live alway.' From time to time, he turned 
 his head to ask, ' Is she come V But she, for whom his 
 loving heart so yearned, came not till that heart was stilled 
 forever. At the funeral — at the head of his coffin — sat the 
 soldier who had rescued him, all battle-stained and soiled ; 
 and near by, the members of his staff, who all adored him. 
 Upon the coffin lay a sword, formed of delicate white 
 flowers, a cross of white roses, and above these the heavenly 
 crown, symbolized by one of green bay-leaves. We fol- 
 lowed him to the church, where, after appropriate cere- 
 monies, attended by many persons, his body was taken to 
 Hollywood Cemetery. No martial pomp, no soldier's fu- 
 neral, but — 
 
 '"Slowly and sadly we laid him down, 
 
 From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; 
 We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, 
 But we left him alone with his glory.' 
 
272 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 Everybody was struck with the resemblance to the fu- 
 neral so beautifully described in the lines jnst quoted. As 
 we passed, in slow procession — 
 
 '"We knew by the distant and random gun, 
 That the foe was sullenly firing.' 
 
 These guns were his funeral knell, sounding at intervals 
 the solemn peal, with which, in the haste and uncertainty of 
 the time, it was impossible for us to honour him." 
 
 One of the morning papers has some lines on the same 
 subject, more poetic, though not so graphic, as the account 
 given by my friend : 
 
 "J. E. B. STUART. 
 
 "We could not pause, while yet the noontide air 
 Shook with the cannonade's incessant pealing, 
 The funeral pageant, fitly to prepare, 
 A nation's grief revealing. 
 
 "The smoke above the glimmering woodland wide, 
 That skirts our southward border with its beauty, 
 Marked where our heroes stood, and fought and died, 
 For love, and faith, and duty 
 
 " And still what time the doubtful strife went on, 
 We might not find expression for our sorrow; 
 We could but lay our dear, dumb warrior down, 
 And gird us for the morrow. 
 
 " One weary year ago, when came a lull 
 
 With victory, in the conflicts' stormy closes, 
 When the glad Spring, all flushed and beautiful, 
 First mocked us with her roses — 
 
 " With dirge and bell, and minute-gun, we paid 
 Some few poor rites, an inexpressive token 
 
may, 1864. 273 
 
 Of a great people's pain, to Jackson's shade, 
 In agony unspoken. 
 
 " No wailing trumpet, and no tolling bell, 
 
 No cannon, save the battle's boom receding, 
 When Stuart to the grave we bore, might tell 
 With hearts all crushed and bleeding. 
 
 "The crisis suited not with pomp, and she, 
 
 Whose anguish bears the seal of consecration, 
 Had wished his Christian obsequies should be 
 Thus void of ostentation. 
 
 " Only the maidens came, sweet flowers to twine 
 Above his form, so still, and cold, and painless, 
 Whose deeds upon our brightest records shine, 
 Whose life and sword were stainless. 
 
 "We well remembered how he loved to dash 
 Into the fight, festooned from summer bowers • 
 How like a fountain's spray, his sabre's flash 
 Leaped from a mass of flowers. 
 
 "And so we carried to his place of rest, 
 All that of our Paladin was mortal ; 
 The cross, and not the sabre, on his breast, 
 That opes the heavenly portal. 
 
 " No more of tribute might to us remain ; 
 
 But there will come a time when freedom's martyrs 
 A richer guerdon of renown shall gain 
 Than gleams in stars and garters. 
 
 " I claim no prophet's vision, but I see, 
 
 Through coming years now near at hand, now distant, 
 My rescued country, glorious and free, 
 And strong and self-existent. 
 12* 
 
274 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 "I hear from out that sunlit land which lies 
 
 Beyond these clouds which darkly gather o'er us, 
 The happy sounds of industry arise, 
 In swelling, peaceful chorus. 
 
 "And mingling with these sounds, the glad acclaim 
 Of millions, undisturbed by war's afflictions, 
 Crowning each martyr's never-dying name 
 With grateful benedictions. 
 
 "In some fair, future garden of delights, 
 
 Where flowers shall bloom, and song-birds sweetly warble. 
 Art shall erect the statues of our knights, 
 In living bronze and marble. 
 
 "And none of all that bright, heroic throng 
 
 Shall wear to far-off time a semblance grander, 
 Shall still be decked with fresher wreaths of song, 
 Than the beloved commander. 
 
 " The Spanish legends tell us of the Cid, 
 
 That after death he rode erect and stately 
 Along his lines, e'en as in life he did, 
 In presence yet more stately. 
 
 "And thus our Stuart at this moment seems 
 To ride out of our dark and troubled story, 
 Into the region of romance and dreams, 
 A realm of light and glory. 
 
 "And sometimes when the silver bugles blow, 
 That radiant form in battle reappearing, 
 Shall lead his horsemen headlong on the foe 
 In victory careering." 
 
 May 26.— We are now anticipating a fight at Hano- 
 ver Junction. General Lee fell back to that point on 
 
june, 1864. 275 
 
 Sunday last, for some good purpose, no doubt. Our army 
 is in line of battle on the Cedar Hill plantation. The ladies 
 of the family have come to Richmond to avoid the awful 
 collision about to take place. That house, I sadly fear, ia 
 to be another sacrifice. Our successes have been wonderful, 
 and evidently, I think, directed by God. We have, how- 
 ever, just met with a sad reverse in Charles City County. 
 General FitzLee, commanding two brigades, fought a much 
 larger body of men, who were strongly fortified, and was 
 of course repulsed. Alas, alas for our gallant army! bra- 
 very cannot always contend safely against overwhelming 
 numbers. We are very uneasy about our dear ones who 
 were in that fight. Strange stories are told of the wounded 
 having been bayoneted. It is difficult to believe that men 
 of human hearts could do such things ; and while I feel un- 
 happy about the rumour, I cannot credit it. 
 
 May 21. — News from Fitz Lee's fight; it was not dis- 
 astrous as at first reported; many were wounded, many 
 captured, and but four killed. But four desolated homes 
 by this stroke ! but four widows, or broken-hearted moth- 
 ers, in addition to the bereaved of the land ! Cod be with 
 them to comfort them ! Nothing farther of the bayoneted 
 wounded: I trust that it was all a fabrication. 
 
 We returned to the office yesterday, which had been 
 closed for a week. It is pitiable to see how the rations are 
 being reduced by degrees. The Government is exerting 
 itself for the relief of the soldiers. God have mercy upon 
 and help us ! 
 
 June i. — There has been skirmishing for some days. 
 One day a fight at Ashland, another at Cold Harbour; but 
 yesterday the heaviest cannonading I ever heard continued 
 all day, until after dark. The fighting was between Bethesda 
 
276 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 Church and Cold Harbour. We were well fortified, and 
 General Lee reports great success to our arms. " It is the 
 Lord's doings, and it is marvellous in our eyes.'' We went 
 to church this evening and returned thanks. 
 
 June 5. — Our daughter-in-law, Mrs. Dr. , came 
 
 from Charlottesville this evening. The regular communica- 
 tion being cut off, she went up to Lynchburg, taking that 
 route to Richmond ; but the Government having impressed 
 the cars, she was obh'ged to take a freight-train, and was 
 fortunate in finding a friend coming down in the same way, 
 who acted as her escort. At Burkesville (shall I record it 
 of a Virginia house of any degree ?) she was treated with 
 such inhospitality, that she was compelled to pass the night 
 in a car filled with bags of corn, which the gentlemen fixed 
 so carefully as to give her almost a comfortable resting- 
 place. When she returned from her unsuccessful applica- 
 tion for quarters, one of the soldiers said to her, (she was 
 the only lady in the company,) " Lady, where are you from?" 
 "The Y alley of Virginia," was her reply. He instantly 
 sprang up: " Boys, we must burn that house!" he exclaimed; 
 " they won't take in this lady from the ' Valley,' where 
 we have been treated so kindly." Of course he had no 
 idea of burning the house, though he seemed highly 
 indignant. She came to us looking well after a three 
 days' journey, having borne her difficulties with great cheer- 
 fulness. 
 
 11th. — Just heard from W. and S. H. Both places 
 in ruins, except the dwelling-houses. Large portions of the 
 Federal army were on them for eight days. S. H. was used 
 as a hospital for the wounded brought from the battle-fields; 
 this protected the house. At W. several generals had 
 their head-quarters in the grounds near the house, which, of 
 
june, 1864. 277 
 
 course, protected it. General Warren had his tent in the 
 "shrubbery'' for two days, General Burnside for a day or 
 two, and those- of lesser rank were there from time to time. 
 General Grant was encamped at S. H. for a time. Dr. B. 
 was at home, with several Confederate wonnded from the 
 battle of " Haw's Shop" in the house. Being absent a mile 
 or two from home when they arrived, they so quickly threw 
 out pickets, spread their tents over the surrounding fields 
 and hills, that he could not return to his house, where his 
 wife aud only child were alone, until he had obtained a pass 
 from a Yankee officer. As he approached the house, thou- 
 sands and tens of thousands of horses and cattle were 
 roaming over the fine wheat fields on his and the adjoining 
 estate, (that of his niece, Mrs. N".,) which were now ripe for 
 the sickle. The clover fields and fields of young corn were 
 sharing the same fate. He found his front porch filled with 
 officers. They asked him of -his sentiments with regard to 
 the war. He told them frankly that he was an original 
 Secessionist, and ardently hoped to see the North and South 
 separate and distinct nations now and forever. One of them 
 replied that he " honoured his candour," and from that mo- 
 ment he was treated with great courtesy. After some 
 difficulty he was allowed to keep his wounded Confederates, 
 and in one or two instances the Federal surgeons assisted 
 him in dressing their wounds. At S. H. the parlour was 
 used for an amputating room, and Yankee blood streamed 
 through that beautiful apartment and the adjoining passage. 
 Poor M. had her stricken heart sorely lacerated in every 
 way, particularly when her little son came running in and 
 nestled up to her in alarm. A soldier had asked him, " Are 
 you the son of Captain Newton, who was killed in Cul- 
 peper ?" " Yes," replied the child. " Well, I belong to the 
 
278 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 Eighth Illinois, and was one of the soldiers that fired at 
 him when he fell," was the barbarous reply. 
 
 On these highly cultivated plantations not a fence is left, 
 except mutilated garden enclosures. The fields were as free 
 from vegetation after a few days as the Arabian desert; the 
 very roots seemed eradicated from the earth. A fortifica- 
 tion stretched across W., in which were embedded the fence 
 rails of that and the adjoining farms. Ten thousand cav- 
 alry were drawn up in line of battle for two days on the 
 two plantations, expecting the approach of the Confederates ; 
 bands of music were constantly playing martial airs in all 
 parts of the premises; and whiskey flowed freely. The 
 poor servants could not resist these intoxicating influences, 
 particularly as Abolition preachers were constantly collect- 
 ing immense crowds, preaching to them the cruelty of the 
 servitude which had been so long imposed upon them, and 
 that Abraham Lincoln was the Moses sent by God to 
 deliver them from the "land of Egypt and the house of 
 bondage,'' and to lead them to the promised land. After 
 the eight days were accomplished, the army moved off, 
 leaving not a quadruped, except two pigs, which had en- 
 sconced themselves under the ruins of a servant's house, and 
 perhaps a dog to one plantation ; to the other, by some 
 miraculous oversight, two cows and a few pigs were left. 
 Not a wheeled vehicle of any kind was to be found; all the 
 grain, flour, meat, and other supplies were swept off, except 
 the few things hid in those wonderful places which could 
 not be fathomed even by the " Grand Army." Scarcely a 
 representative of the sons and daughters of Africa remained 
 in that whole section of country; they had all gone to 
 Canaan, by way of York River, Chesapeake Bay, and the 
 Potomac — not dry-shod, for the waters were not rolled back 
 
June, 1864. 279 
 
 at the presence of these modern Israelites, but in vessels 
 crowded to suffocation in this excessively warm weather. 
 They have gone to homeless poverty, an unfriendly climate, 
 and hard work; many of them to die without sympathy, 
 for the invalid, the decrepit, and the infant of days have 
 left their houses, beds, and many comforts, the homes of 
 their birth, the masters and mistresses who regarded them 
 not so much as property as humble friends and members of 
 their families. Poor, deluded creatures ! I am grieved not 
 so much on account of the loss of their services, though that 
 it excessively inconvenient and annoying, but for their griev- 
 ous disappointment. Those who have trades, or who are brought 
 up as lady's maids or house servants, may do well, but woe 
 to the masses who have gone with the blissful hope of idle- 
 ness and free supplies ! We have lost several who were 
 great comforts to us, and others who were sources of care, 
 responsibility, and great expense. These particulars from 
 W. and S. H. I have from our nephew, J. P., who is now a 
 scout for General W. H. F. Lee. He called by to rest a 
 few hours at his uncle's house, and says he would scarcelj 
 have known the barren wilderness. The Northern officers 
 seemed disposed to be courteous to the ladies, in the little 
 intercourse which they had with them. General Ferrara, 
 who commanded the negro troops, was humane, in having a 
 coffin made for a young Confederate officer who died in Dr 
 B's house, and was kind in other respects. The surgeons, 
 too, assisted in attending to the Confederate wounded. An 
 officer one morning sent for Mrs. N. to ask her where he 
 should place a box of French china for safety; he said that 
 some soldiers had discovered it buried in her garden, dug it 
 up and opened it, but he had come up at this crisis and 
 had placed a guard over it, and desired to know where she 
 
280 DIAEY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 wished it put. A place of safety of course was not on the 
 premises, but she had it taken to her chamber. She 
 thanked him for his kindness. He seemed moved, and said, 
 " Mrs. ~N., I will do what I can for you, for I cannot be too 
 thankful that my wife is not in an invaded country." She 
 then asked him how he could, with his feelings, come to the 
 South. He replied that he was in the regular army, and 
 was obliged to come. Many little acts of kindness were 
 done at both houses, which were received in the spirit in 
 which they were extended. Per contra : On one occasion 
 Miss D., a young relative of Mrs. N's, was in one of the 
 tents set aside for the Confederate wounded, writing a letter 
 from a dying soldier to his friends at home. She was 
 interrupted by a young Yankee surgeon, to whom she was 
 a perfect stranger, putting his head in and remarking pertly, 
 "Ah, Miss D., are you writing? Have you friends in 
 Richmond ? I shall be there in a few days, and will with 
 pleasure take your communications." She looked up calmly 
 into his face, and replied, " Thank you; /have no friends 
 in the Libby I" It was heard by his comrades on the out- 
 side of the tent, and shouts and peals of laughter resounded 
 at the expense of the discomfited surgeon. The ladies 
 frequently afterwards heard him bored with the question, 
 " Doctor, when do you go to the Libby ?" 
 
 12lh.- — I am grieved to say that we have had a re- 
 verse in the " Valley,'' and that General Jones, of the 
 cavalry, has been killed, and his command repulsed. Thej 
 have fallen back to Waynesborougb, leaving Staunton it 
 the hands of the enemy. General Johnston is doing well 
 in Georgia. Oh, that he may use up Sherman entirely ! 
 We are getting on well at home ; everybody looks as caln 
 as if there were no belligerent armies near. 
 
july, 1864. 281 
 
 Mth. — I have been much occupied nursing the sick, 
 not only in the hospital, but among our own friends; and a 
 sad, sad week has the last been to us. We have had very 
 little time to think of public affairs, but now that the last 
 sad offices have been performed for one very, very dear to 
 us, with sore hearts we must go back to busy life again. It 
 is wonderful to me that we retain our senses. While the 
 cannon is booming in our ears from the neighbourhood of 
 Petersburg, we know that Hunter is raiding among our 
 friends in the most relentless way; that the Military Insti- 
 tute has been burnt, and that we have nothing to hope for 
 the West, unless General Early and General Breckinridge 
 can destroy him utterly. 
 
 July 18. — Since the last note in my diary we have been 
 pursuing our usual course. The tenor of our way is singu- 
 larly rough and uneven, marked by the sound of cannon, 
 the marching of troops, and all the paraphernalia of grini- 
 visaged war; but we still visit our friends and relatives, and 
 have our pleasant social and family meetings, as though we 
 were at peace with all the world. The theme of every 
 tongue is our army in Maryland. What is it doing? 
 What will be the result of the venture ? The last accounts 
 are from the Washington papers. Early, they say, is before 
 Washington, throwing in shells, having cut the railroads 
 and burnt the bridges. We are of course all anxiety, and 
 rumour is busier than ever. The army, it is said, has driven 
 innumerable horses, beeves, etc., into Virginia. I trust so ; 
 it is surmised that to supply the commissariat is the chief 
 object of the trip. Grant still before Petersburg, sending 
 transports, etc., with troops to defend Washington. 
 
 Mth. — Amid all the turbulent scenes which surround us, 
 our only grandchild has first seen the light, and the dear 
 
282 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 little fellow looks as quiet as though all were peace. We 
 thank God for this precious gift, this little object of all- 
 absorbing interest, which so pleasantly diverts our troubled 
 minds. His father has left his far-off military post to wel- 
 come him, and before he returns we must by baptism receive 
 him into the Church on earth, praying that he may be a 
 " member of Christ, a child of God, and an inheritor of 
 the kingdom of heaven." This rite thus early administered, 
 bringing him into the Episcopal Church, seems to belong to 
 him by inheritance, as he is the grandson of a Presbyter on 
 one side, and of a Bishop on the other. 
 
 The city looks warlike, though the inhabitants are quiet. 
 Troops are constantly passing to and fro; army wagons, 
 ambulances, etc., rattle by, morning, noon, and night. 
 Grant remains passive on the Appomattox, occasionally 
 throwing a shell into Petersburg, which may probably ex- 
 plode among women and children — but what matters it ? 
 They are rebels — what difference does it make about then' 
 lives or limbs ? 
 
 July 27. — General Early has returned from Maryland, 
 bringing horses, cattle, etc. While near Washington, the 
 army burned Mr. Montgomery Blair's house, which I cannot 
 persuade myself to regret, and spared the residence of his 
 father, by order, it is said, of General Breckinridge. I 
 know that General B. was right, but I think it required 
 great forbearance, particularly in the soldiers, who have felt 
 in their own persons and families the horrors of this cruel 
 war of invasion. It seems to our human view that unless 
 the war is severely felt by those in high authority, it will 
 never cease. Hunter has just passed through the upper 
 part of the Valley of "Virginia, his pathway marked by fire 
 and sword; and Sheridan has followed Early into Virginia, 
 
july, 1864. 283 
 
 with no very gentle intent, I fear. I am glad that Mary- 
 land was spared as a general thing, particularly as our 
 Mends might have suffered with our foes, for it would have 
 been difficult to discriminate; but I cannot avoid thinking 
 that if other places, besides Governor Bradford's house and 
 the town of Chambersburg, had been burnt, it would 
 shorten the war. Yet God has said, " Vengeance is mine, 
 I will repay ;" and I hope that Christian principles will 
 ever be observed by our commanders. There seems to be 
 no touch of pity in the hearts of many of the Federal gen- 
 erals. Women and children are made homeless at midnight, 
 and not allowed to save any thing, even their clothes. 
 When houses are not burned, they are robbed of every thing 
 which a rapacious soldiery may desire. The last barrel of 
 flour, the last ham, is taken from store-rooms; and this is 
 done, not in Virginia only ; nor are Hunter, Sheridan, 
 Kilpatrick, or Stoneman the only men who do it; but every 
 State in the Confederacy has felt the heel of the despot. 
 North and South Carolina have suffered on their eastern 
 borders most severely; the same of Georgia and Florida. 
 Alabama has had much to bear. The Mississippi country 
 in Louisiana, Arkansas, and the State of Mississippi, has 
 been ravaged and desolated; Tennessee has perhaps had 
 more to bear than any of them. But poor old Virginia 
 has been furrowed and scarred until her original likeness is 
 gone. From the Potomac to the Roanoke, from the sea- 
 board to the Kentucky boundary, including the down- 
 trodden Eastern Shore, she could scarcely be recognized by 
 her sons. Marked by a hundred battle-fields, and checkered 
 by fortifications, almost every spot is classic ground. From 
 the beginning she has acted her part nobly, and has already 
 covered herself with glory; but when the war is over, where 
 
284 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 shall we find her old churches, where her noble homesteads, 
 scenes of domestic comfort and generous hospitality ? Either 
 laid low by the firebrand, or desecrated and desolated. In 
 the march of the army, or in the rapid evolutions of raiding 
 parties, woe betide the houses which are found deserted! 
 In many cases the men of the family having gone to the 
 war, the women and children dare not stay; then the law- 
 less are allowed to plunder. They seem to take the greatest 
 delight in breaking up the most elegant or the most humble 
 furniture, as the case may be; cut the portraits from the 
 frames, split pianos in pieces, ruin libraries, in any way that 
 suits their fancy; break doors from their hinges, and locks 
 from the doors; cut the windows from the frames, and leave 
 no pane of glass unbroken; carry off house-linen and car- 
 pets; the contents of the store-rooms and pantries, sugar, 
 flour, vinegar, molasses, pickles, preserves, which cannot he 
 eaten or carried off, are poured together in one general 
 mass; the horses are of course taken from' the stables; 
 cattle and stock of all kinds driven off or shot in the woods 
 and fields. Generally, indeed I believe always when the 
 whole army is moving, inhabited houses are protected. To 
 raiders such as Hunter and Co. is reserved the credit of 
 committing such outrages in the presence of ladies — of 
 taking their watches from their belts, their rings from their 
 fingers, and their ear-rings from their ears; of searching 
 their bureaux and wardrobes, and filling pockets and haver- 
 sacks in their presence. Is it not then wonderful that 
 soldiers whose families have suffered such things could be 
 restrained when in a hostile country ? It seems to me to 
 show a marvellous degree of forbearance in the officers 
 themselves, and of discipline in the troops. 
 
 August 11. — Sheridan's and Early's troops are fighting 
 
august, 1864. 285 
 
 in the Valley. "We suffered a disaster near Martinsburg, 
 and our troops fell back to Strasburg; had a fight on the 
 old battle-ground at Kernstown, and we drove the enemy 
 through Winchester to Martinsburg, which our troops took 
 possession of. Poor Winchester, how checkered its history 
 throughout the warl Abounding with patriotism as it is, 
 what a blessing it must be to have a breath of free air, even 
 though it be for a short time ! Their welcome of our sol- 
 diers is always so joyous, so bounding, so generous ! How 
 they must enjoy the blessed privilege of speaking their own 
 sentiments without having their servants listening and act- 
 ing as spies in their houses, and of being able to hear from 
 or write to their friends! Ohl I would that there was a 
 prospect of their being disenthralled forever. 
 
 12^/i. — I am sorry to record a defeat near Moorfield, in 
 Hardy County. These disasters are very distressing to us all, 
 except to the croakers, who find in them so much food for their 
 gloom, that I am afraid they are rather pleased than other- 
 wise. They always, on such occasions, elongate their mourn- 
 ful countenances, prophesy evil, and chew the cud of dis- 
 content with a better show of reason than they can gener- 
 ally produce. The signal failure of Grant's mine to blow 
 up our army, and its recoil upon his own devoted troops, 
 amply repay us for our failure in Hardy. God's hand was 
 in it, and to Him be the praise. 
 
 One of my friends in the office is a victim of Millroy's 
 reign in Winchester. She wrote to a friend of hers at the 
 North, expressing her feelings rather imprudently. The 
 letter was intercepted, and she was immediately arrested, 
 and brought in an ambulance through the enemy's lines to 
 oar picket-post, where she was deposited by the roadside. 
 She says that she was terribly distressed at leaving her 
 
286 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 mother and sisters, but when she got into Confederate lines 
 the air seemed wonderfully fresh, pure and free, and she soon 
 found friends. She came to Richmond and entered onr of- 
 fice. About the same time a mother and daughters who lived 
 perhaps in the handsomest house in the town, were arrested, 
 for some alleged imprudence of one of the daughters. An 
 ambulance was driven to the door, and the mother was 
 taken from her sick-bed and put into it, together with the 
 daughters. Time was not allowed them to prepare a lunch 
 
 for the journey. Before Mrs. was taken from her house 
 
 Mrs. Millroy had entered it, the General having taken it 
 for his head-quarters; and before the ambulance had beeD 
 driven off, one of their own officers was heard to say to Mrs. 
 M., seeing her so entirely at home in the house, " For good- 
 ness' sake, madam, wait until the poor woman gets, off." Is 
 it wonderful, then, that the Winchester ladies welcome oui 
 troops with gladness ? that they rush out and join the band, 
 singing " The bonnie blue flag" and " Dixie,"" as the troops 
 enter the streets, until their enthusiasm and melody melt 
 all hearts ? Was it strange that even the great and glori- 
 ous, though grave and thoughtful, Stonewall Jackson should, 
 when pursuing Banks through its streets, have been excited 
 until he waved his cap with tears of enthusiasm, as they 
 broke forth in harmonious songs of welcome ? Or that 
 the ladies, not being satisfied by saluting them with their 
 voices, waving their handkerchiefs, and shouting for joy, 
 should follow them with more substantial offerings, filling 
 their haversacks with all that their depleted pantries could 
 afford? Or is it wonderful that our soldiers should love 
 Winchester so dearly and fight for it so valiantly ? No, it 
 is beautiful to contemplate the long-suffering, the firmness 
 under oppression, the patience, the generosity, the patriotism 
 
august, 1861. 287 
 
 of Winchester. Other towns, I dare say, have borne their 
 tyranny as well, and when their history is known they will 
 call forth our admiration as much; but we know of no such 
 instance. The "Valley" throughout shows the sarae devo- 
 tion to our cause, and the sufferings of the country people 
 are even greater than those in town. 
 
 Some amusing incidents sometimes occur, showing the 
 eagerness of the ladies to serve our troops after a long sep- 
 aration. A lady living near Berryville, but a little remote 
 from the main road, says, that when our troops are passing 
 through the country, she sometimes feels sick with anxiety 
 to do something for them. She, one morning, stood in her 
 porch, and could see them turn in crowds to neighbouring 
 houses which happened to be on the road, but no one turned 
 out of the way far enough to come to her house. At last 
 one man came along, and finding that he was passiug her gate, 
 she ran out with the greatest alacrity to invite him to come 
 in to get his breakfast. He turned to her with an amused 
 expression and replied : " I am much obliged to you, madam ; 
 I wish I could breakfast with you, but as I have already 
 eaten four breakfasts to please the ladies, I must beg you 
 to excuse me.'' 
 
 lUh. — Norfolk, poor Norfolk 1 nothing can exceed its 
 long-suffering, its night of gloom and darkness. Unlike 
 Winchester, it has no bright spots — no oasis in its blank 
 desert of wretchedness. Like Alexandria, it has no relief, 
 but must submit, and drag on its chain of servility, till 
 the final cry of victory bursts its bonds, and makes it free. 
 I have no time to write of all I hear and know of the 
 indignities offered to our countrymen and countrywomen 
 in Alexandria, Norfolk, Portsmouth, and other places 
 which remain incarcerated in the sloughs of Federal tyr- 
 
288 DIARY OF A SOUTHERX REFUGEE. 
 
 army. God help them, and give us strength speedily to 
 break the chain that binds them. 
 
 August 15. — An account from my relatives, of the 
 raid of the 19th of June into the village of Tappahannock, 
 has lately reached me. The village had been frequently 
 visited and pillaged before, and both sides of the beautiful 
 Rappahannock, above and below, had been sadly devas- 
 tated; but the last visit seems to carry with it more of the 
 spirit of revenge than any before. My aunt writes : 
 
 " About daybreak on that peaceful Sabbath morn six gun- 
 boats were seen returning down the river. A rumour that 
 Hampton was after them, had driven them from then' work 
 of devastation in the country above us to their boats for 
 safety. By six o'clock six hundred negroes and four hun- 
 dred cavalry and marines were let loose upon the defenceless 
 town. The first visit I received was from six cavalrymen; the 
 pantry-door was unceremoniously broken open, and a search 
 made for wine and plate ; but all such things had been 
 removed to a place of safety, and when I called loudly for 
 an officer to be sent for, the ruffians quietly went to their 
 horses and departed. Next came a surgeon from Point 
 Lookout, to search the house, and deliver the key to Dr. 
 R's store, which he had sent for as soon as he landed — 
 making a great virtue of his not breaking open the door, 
 and of his honesty in only taking a few pills. This dignitary 
 walked through the rooms, talking and murdering the 
 ' king's English ' most ludicrously. However, he behaved 
 quite well through the day, and was, under Heaven, the 
 means of protecting us from aggressions by his frequent 
 visits. In a short time every unoccupied house in the vil- 
 lage was forcibly entered, and every thing taken from them 
 or destroyed. Dr. R's house was completely sacked. L. 
 
august, 1864. 289 
 
 had made all necessary preparations for returning home, 
 but all was" swept by the Vandals. Dr. R's surgical in- 
 struments, books, medicines, his own and his sister's clothes, 
 as well as those of their dead parents, were taken, the offi- 
 cers sharing the plunder with the soldiers. The furniture, 
 such as was not broken up, was carried off in dray-loads 
 to the boats, and these two young people were as desti- 
 tute of domestic comforts as though a consuming fire had 
 passed over their pleasant residence. My lot was filled with 
 the creatures going in and out at pleasure, unless the cry, 
 ' The Johnnies are coming,' sent them running like scared 
 beasts to their rendezvous, and gave us a few moments of 
 quiet. The poor negroes belonging to the town seemed to 
 lose all power over themselves, and to be bereft of reason. 
 Some seemed completely brutalized by the suggestions that 
 were constantly -whispered in their ears ; others so fright, 
 ened by the threats made, that reason deserted them ; 
 others so stupefied that they lost all power to direct them- 
 selves, and gave up to the control of others. It is impos- 
 sible to describe the madness that possessed them. For 
 myself, I had but one care left — to keep them from polluting 
 my house any farther by keeping them out; and this I was 
 enabled to do after shutting and locking the door in the face 
 of one of them. The most painful event of the day was 
 when a little coloured girl, a great pet with us, was dragged 
 from the house. The aunt of the child was determined to 
 take her with her, but she resisted all her aunt's efforts, 
 and came to the house for protection. An officer came for 
 her, and after talking with her, and telling her that he 
 would not ' trouble her, but she was not old enough to 
 know what was good for her,' he went off. About night 
 a white man and the most fiendish-looking negro I ever 
 13 
 
290 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 saw came for her in the name of the aunt, and vowed they 
 would have her at all risks. 
 
 "The officers had all gone to the boats, and it was in vaia 
 to resist them, and with feelings of anguish we saw the 
 poor child dragged from us. I cannot think of this event 
 without pain. But night now set in, and our apprehensions 
 increased as the light disappeared ; we knew not what 
 was before us, or what we should be called on to 
 encounter during the hours of darkness. We only knew 
 that we were surrounded by lawless banditti, from whom 
 we had no reason to expect mercy, much less kindness; 
 but above all, there was an eye that never slumbered, 
 and an arm mighty to defend those who trusted to it, 
 so we made the house as secure as we could, and kept 
 ready a parcel of sharp case-knives (don't laugh at our 
 weapons) for our defence, if needed, and went up-stairs, 
 determined to keep close vigils all night. Our two faith- 
 ful servants, Jacob and Anthony, kept watch in the 
 kitchen. Among the many faithless, those two stood as 
 examples of the comfort that good servants can give in 
 time of distress. About nine o'clock we heard the sound 
 of horses' feet, and Jacob's voice under the window. Upon 
 demanding to know what was the matter, I was answered 
 by the voice of a gun-boat captain, in broken German, that 
 they were going to fire over my house at the ' Rebs ' on 
 the hill, and that we had better leave the house, and seek 
 protection in the streets. I quietly told our counsellor 
 that I preferred remaining in my own house, and should go 
 to the basement, where we should be safe. So we hastily 
 snatched up blankets and comforts, and repaired to the 
 basement, where pallets were spread, and G's little baby 
 laid down to sleep, sweetly unconscious of our fears and 
 
august, 1864. 291 
 
 trembles. We sent to apprise the Misses G. of the danger, 
 and urge them to come to ns. They came, accompanied by 
 an eDsign, who had warded off danger from them several 
 times during the day. He was a grave, middle-aged man, 
 and was very kind. At the request of the ladies, he came 
 into the room with us and remained until twelve o'clock. 
 He was then obliged to return to the gun-boat, but gave us 
 an efficient guard until daybreak. He pronounced. Captain 
 Schultz's communication false, as they had no idea of 
 firing. We knew at once that the object had been to 
 rob the house, as all unoccupied houses were robbed 
 with impunity. This gentleman's name was Nelson. I 
 can never forget his kindness. During the night our rela- 
 tive, Mrs. B m, came to us in great agitation ; she had 
 
 attempted to stay at home, though entirely alone, to pro 
 tect her property. She had been driven from her house at 
 midnight, and chased across several lots to the adjoining one, 
 where she had fallen from exhaustion. Jacob, hearing cries 
 for help, went to her, and brought her to us. Our party 
 now consisted of twelve females of all ages. As soon as 
 the guard left us at daybreak, they came in streams to the 
 hen-yard, and woe to the luckless chicken who thought it- 
 self safe from robbers ! At one o'clock on Monday the 
 fleet of now eight steamers took its departure. Two of the 
 steamers were filled with the deluded negroes who were 
 leaving their homes. We felt that the incubus which had 
 pressed so heavily upon us for thirty hours had been re- 
 moved, and we once more breathed freely, but the village 
 was left desolate and destitute." 
 
 18th. — For several days our whole time has been occupied 
 nursing the dear little grandchild, whose life was despaired 
 of for two days. We are most thankful for his recovery 
 
292 MART OP A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 The army is now on the north side of James River, and 
 this evening, at this moment, wo hear heavy cannonading, 
 and musketry is distinctly heard from the hills around the 
 city. Oh, Heavenly Father ! guide our generals and troops, 
 and cause this sanguinary conflict to end by a desirable, an 
 honourable peace Y 
 
 %Qth. — A friend from the Valley has described a success- 
 ful attack made by Mosby on a Federal wagon-train near 
 Berryville. It was on its way to the army near Strasbnrg, 
 and Mosby was on the other side of the Shenandoah. He 
 crossed in the night with one cannon and about seventy-five 
 men, and at daylight surprised the drivers and guard as 
 they were beginning to hitch their mules, by a salute from 
 the cannon and seventy-five pistols. There was a general 
 stampede in an instant of all who were unhurt. As quick 
 as thought, 600 mules were turned towards the river, and 
 driven to the command in Loudoun. In the mean time, the 
 wagons were set on fire, and most of them and their con- 
 tents were consumed before the luckless drivers could return 
 to their charge. 
 
 It is said that our new steamer, the " Tallahassee," has been 
 within sixty miles of the city of New York, Tery much to the 
 terror of the citizens. It also destroyed six large vessels. 
 I bid it God-speed with all my heart ; I want the North to 
 feel the war to its core, and then it will end, and not before. 
 
 2M. — Just been on a shopping expedition for my sister 
 and niece, and spent $1,500 in about an hour. I gave 
 $110 for ladies' morocco boots; $22 per yard for linen; $5 
 apiece for spools of cotton; $5 for a paper of pins, etc. It 
 would be utterly absurd, except that it is melancholy, to see 
 our currency depreciating so rapidly. 
 
 olst. — The last day of this excitiDg, troubled summer of 
 
august, 1S64. 293 
 
 1864. How many young spirits have fled — how many 
 bleeding, breaking hearts have been left upon earth, from 
 the sanguinary work of this summer! Grant still remains 
 near Petersburg; still by that means is he besieging Rich- 
 mond. He has been baffled at all points, and yet his in- 
 domitable perseverance knows no bounds. Sherman still 
 besieges Atlanta. God help us i 
 
 We are again troubled in mind and body about engaging 
 rooms; we find we must give up these by the 1st of Oc- 
 tober, and have begun the usual refugee occupation of room- 
 hunting. 
 
 Letters from our friends in the Yalley, describing the 
 horrors now going on there. A relative witnessed the 
 burning of three very large residences on the 20th of Au- 
 gust. General Custar was stationed with his brigade of 
 Michigan Cavalry near Bcrryville. He had thrown out 
 pickets on all the roads, some of which were fired on by 
 Mosby's men. This so exasperated the Federals, that an 
 order was at once issued that whenever a picket-post was 
 fired on the nearest house should be burned. On the morn- 
 ing of the 20th this dreadful order was put into execution, 
 and three large houses were burnt to the ground, together 
 with barns, wheat-stacks, and outhouses. The house of 
 
 Mr. was near a picket-post, and about midnight on 
 
 the 19th a messenger arrived with a note announcing the 
 
 sudden death of Mrs. 's sister, on a plantation not 
 
 many miles distant. A lamp was lighted to read the note, 
 and, unfortunately, a little while afterwards the picket-post 
 was fired on and one man wounded. The lighting of the 
 lamp was regarded as a signal to Colonel Mosby. During 
 the same night the pickets near two other large houses 
 were fired on. This being reported at head-quarters, the 
 
294 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 order was at once issued to burn all three houses. Two 
 companies of the Fifth Michigan Cavalry, commanded by 
 Captain Drake, executed the fearful order. They drew up 
 
 in front of Mr. 's house and asked for him. " Are you 
 
 Mr. ?" demanded the Captain. "I have orders to 
 
 burn your house.'' In vain Mr. remonstrated. He 
 
 begged for one hour, that he might see General Custar and 
 explain the circumstances of the night before ; he also 
 pleaded the illness of his son-in-law, then in the house. No 
 reply was vouchsafed to the old gentleman, but with a look 
 of hardened ferocity, he turned to the soldiers, with the 
 order: "Men, to your work, and do it thoroughly!" In 
 an instant the torch was applied to that home of domestic 
 elegance and comfort. One soldier seized the sick son-in- 
 law, who is a surgeon in our service, threatening to carry him 
 to head-quarters, and was with difficulty prevented by the 
 kind interposition of Dr. Sinclair, the surgeon of the regi- 
 ment. They allowed the family to save as much furniture 
 as they couldj but the servants were all gone, and there was 
 no one near to help them. The soldiers at once went to 
 Mr. 's secretary, containing $40,000 in bonds, de- 
 stroyed it, and scattered the mutilated papers to the winds. 
 Matches were applied to window and bed curtains; burning 
 coals were sprinkled in the linen-closet, containing every 
 
 variety of house and table linen. Mrs. , the daughter, 
 
 opened a drawer, and taking her jewelry, embracing an ele- 
 gant diamond ring and other valuables, was escaping with 
 them to the yard, when she was seized by two ruffians on 
 the stair-steps, held by the arms by one, while the other 
 forcibly took the jewels; they then, as she is a very small 
 woman, lifted her over the banister and let her drop 
 into the passage below; fortunately it was not very far 
 
august, 1864. 295 
 
 and she was not at all injured. Nothing daunted, she 
 rushed up-stairs, to rescue a box containing her bridal 
 presents of silver, which was concealed in the wall above a 
 closet. She climbed up to the highest shelf of the closet, 
 seized the box, and, with unnatural strength, threw it 
 through the window into the yard below. While still on 
 the shelf, securing other things from their hiding-place, all 
 unconscious of danger, a soldier set fire to some dresses 
 hanging on the pegs below the shelf on which she stood. 
 The first intimation she had of it was feeling the heat ; she 
 then leaped over the flames to the floor; her stockings were 
 scorched, but she was not injured. She next saw a man 
 with the sign of the Cross on his coat; she asked him if he 
 was a chaplain ? He replied that he was. She said, 
 " Then in mercy come, and help me to save some of my 
 mother's things." They went into her mother's chamber, 
 and she hurriedly opened the bureau drawer, and began 
 taking out the clothes, the chaplain assisting, but what was 
 her horror to see him putting whatever he fancied into his 
 pocket — among other things a paper of pins. She says she 
 could not help saying, as she turned to him, " A minister 
 of Christ stealing pins ! !" In a moment the chaplain was 
 
 gone, but the pins were returned to the bureau. Mrs. 
 
 is the only daughter of Mr. , and was the only lady 
 
 on the spot. Her first care, when she found the house 
 burning, was to secure her baby, which was sleeping in its 
 cradle up-stairs. A guard was at the foot of the steps, 
 and refused to let her pass; she told him that she was go- 
 ing to rescue her child from the flames. " Let the little 
 
 d d rebel burn !" was the brutal reply. But his bayonet 
 
 could not stop her; she ran by, and soon returned, bearing 
 her child to a place of safety. When the house had be- 
 
296 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 come a heap of ruins, the mother returned from the bedside 
 of her dead sister, whither she had gone at daylight that 
 morning, on horseback, (for her harness had been destroyed 
 by the enemy, making her carriage useless.) She was, of 
 course, overwhelmed with grief and with horror at the scene 
 before her. As soon as she dismounted, a soldier leaped 
 on the horse, and rode off with it. Their work of destruc- 
 tion in one place being now over, they left it for another 
 scene of vengeance. 
 
 The same ceremony of Captain Drake's announcing his 
 orders to the mistress of the mansion (the master was a 
 prisoner) being over, the torch was applied. The men had 
 dismounted; the work of pillage was going on merrily; the 
 house was burning in every part, to insure total destruction. 
 The hurried tramp of horses' feet could not be heard amidst 
 the crackling of flames and falling of rafters, but the sud- 
 den shout and cry of " No quarter! no quarter!" from many 
 voices, resounded in the ears of the unsuspecting maraud- 
 ers as a death-knell. A company of Mosby's men rushed 
 up the hill and charged them furiously; they were aroused 
 by the sound of danger, and fled hither and thither. 
 Terrified and helpless, they were utterly unprepared for 
 resistance. The cry of " No quarter! no quarter!" still 
 continued. They hid behind the burning ruins ; they 
 crouched in the corners of fences ; they begged for life ; 
 but their day of grace was past. The defenceless wo- 
 men, children, and old men of the neighbourhood had 
 borne their tortures too long; something must be done, 
 and all that this one company of braves could do, was 
 done. Thirty were killed on the spot, and others, wounded 
 and bleeding, sought refuge, and asked pity of those whom 
 they were endeavouring to ruin. writes : "Two came to 
 
august, 1864. 297 
 
 us, the most pitiable objects you ever beheld, and we 
 did what we could for them; for, after all, the men are 
 not to blame half so much as the officers. Whether these 
 things hare been ordered by Sheridan or Custar, we do 
 not know. These two wounded men, and all who took 
 refuge among Secessionists, were removed that night, con- 
 trary to our wishes, for we knew that their tortures in the 
 ambulances would be unbearable; but they were unwilling 
 to trust them, and unable to believe that persons who were 
 suffering so severely from them could return good for 
 evil. 
 
 " One man gruffly remarked : ' If we leave any of them with 
 you all, Mosby will come and kill them over again.' We have 
 since heard that those two men died that night. The 
 pickets were then drawn in nearer to head quarters. All 
 was qaiet for the rest of the day, and as Colonel Mosby 
 had but one company in that section of the country, it had 
 of course retired. That night, two regiments (for they 
 could not trust themselves in smaller numbers) were seen 
 passing along the road; their course was marked by the 
 torches which they carried. They rode to the third devoted 
 house, and burned it to the ground. No one knows whose 
 house will be the next object of revenge. Some fancied 
 wroDg may make us all homeless. We keep clothes, house- 
 linen, and every thing compressible, tied up in bundles, so 
 that .they can be easily removed." 
 
 Such are some of the horrors that are being enacted in Vir- 
 ginia at this time. These instances, among many, many others, 
 I note in my diary, that my children's children may know 
 what we suffer during this unnatural war. Sheridan does 
 not mean that Hunter or Butler shall bear the palm of 
 cruelty— honours will at least be divided. I fear, from 
 
 13* 
 
298 DIARY OP A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 appearances, that he will exceed them, before his reign of 
 
 terror is over. says she feels as if she were nightly 
 
 encircled by fire — camp-fires, picket-fires, with here and 
 there stacks of wheat burning, and a large fire now and 
 then in the distance, denote the destruction of something — 
 it may be a dwelling, or it may be a barn. 
 
 September 1. has this day entered on her duties as 
 
 clerk in the " Surgeon-General's Department,'' which she 
 obtained with very little trouble on her part. We had 
 always objected to her applying for an office, because we 
 were afraid of the effect of sedentary employment on her 
 health; but now it seems necessary to us, as the prices of 
 provisions and house-rent have become so very high. Prov- 
 idence has dealt most mercifully with us from the begin- 
 ning of the war: at first it seemed to be the pleasure of 
 our friends as well as ourselves that we should be with 
 them ; then, when it became evident that the war would 
 
 continue, Mr. obtained an office, which gave us a 
 
 limited, but independent, support. Then, when prices be- 
 came high, and we could not live ou the salary, the chap- 
 laincy came, with a little better income. As provisions 
 continued to increase in price, and our prospect seeraedl 
 very poor for the winter, my office was obtained without the >. 
 least effort on my part, though I had often sought one in the < 
 Treasury without success ; and now, when difficulties seem 
 to be increasing with the great scarcity of provisions, the 
 way is again made comparatively easy. So it seems that the. 
 Lord intends us to work for our daily bread, and to be in- 
 dependent, but not to abound. 
 
 10th. — We must give up our rooms by the last of 
 this month, and the question now arises about our future 
 abode. We are searching hither and thither. We had': 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1864. 299 
 
 thought for a week past that our arrangements were most 
 delightfully made, and that we had procured, together with 
 Dr. M. aud Colonel G., six rooms in a house on Franklin 
 Street. The arrangement had been made, and the proprie- 
 tor gone from town. The M's and ourselves were to take 
 four rooms in the third story ; the back parlour on the first 
 floor was to be used by all parties; and Colonel G. would 
 take the large front basement room as his chamber, aud at 
 his request, as our dining-room, as we could not be allowed 
 to use the upper chambers as eating-rooms. Our large screen 
 was to be transferred to the Colonel's bedstead and washing 
 apparatus, and the rest of the room furnished in dining-room 
 style. These rooms are all furnished and carpeted. Nothing 
 could have suited us better, and we have been for some 
 days anticipating our comfortable winter-quarters. The 
 M's have left town with the blissful assurance of a nice home; 
 to add to it all, the family of the proprietor is all that we 
 could desire as friends and companions. Last night I met 
 with a friend, who asked me where we had obtained rooms. 
 I described them with great alacrity and pleasure. She 
 looked surprised, and said, " Are you not mistaken ? those 
 rooms are already occupied." " Impossible," said I ; ''we have 
 engaged them." She shook her head, saying, " There was 
 some mistake; they have been occupied for some days by a 
 family, who say that they have rented them." None but per- 
 sons situated exactly in the same way can imagine our dis- 
 appointment. The Colonel looked aghast; Mr. pro- 
 nounced it a mistake; the girls were indignant, and I went 
 a little farther, and pronounced it bad treatment. This 
 morning I went up before breakfast to hear the truth of 
 the story — the family is still absent, but the servants con- 
 firmed the statement by saying that a family had been in 
 
300 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 tbe rooms that we looked at for a week, and that a gentle- 
 man, a third party, had been up the day before to claim the 
 rooms, and said that the party occupying them had no right to 
 them, and must be turned out. The servant added, that 
 this third gentleman had sent np a dray with flour which 
 was now in the house, and had put his coal in the coal-cel- 
 lar. All this seems passing strange. Thus have we but 
 three weeks before us in which to provide ourselves with 
 an almost impossible shelter. The " Colonel" has written 
 to Mr. for an explanation, and the M's have been ap- 
 prised of their dashed hopes. I often think how little the 
 possessors of the luxurious homes of Richmond know of the 
 difficulties with which refugees are surrounded, and how 
 little we ever appreciated the secure home-feeling which we 
 had all enjoyed before the war began. We have this even- 
 ing been out again in pursuit of quarters. The advertise- 
 ments of " Rooms to let" were sprinkled over the morning 
 papers, so that one could scarcely believe that there w.ould 
 be any difficulty in our being supplied. A small house that 
 would accommodate our whole party, five or six rooms in a 
 large house, or two rooms for ourselves, if it were impossi- 
 ble to do better, would answer our purpose — any thing for 
 a comfortable home. The first advertisement alluded to 
 basement rooms — damp, and redolent of rheumatism. The 
 next was more attractive — -good rooms, well furnished, and 
 np but two flights of stairs; but the price was enormous, 
 far beyond the means of any of the party, and so evidently 
 an extortion designed to take all that could be extracted 
 from the necessity of others, that we turned from our hard- 
 featured proprietor with disgust. The rooms of the third 
 advertisement had been already rented, and the fourth 
 seemed more like answering our purpose than any we- had 
 
SEPTEMBEK, 1864. 301 
 
 seen. There were only two rooms, and though small, and 
 rather dark, yet persons whose shelter was likely to be the 
 " blue vault of heaven'' could not be very particular. The 
 price, too, was exorbitant, but with a little more self-denial 
 it might be paid. The next inquiry was about kitchen, ser- 
 vant's room and coal-house ; but we got no further than 
 the answer about the kitchen. The lady said there was no 
 kitchen that we could possibly use; her stove was small, 
 and she required it all; we must either be supplied from a 
 restaurant, or do our own cooking in one of the rooms. 
 As neither plan was to be thought of, we ended the parley. 
 A. part of a kitchen is indispensable, though perhaps the 
 most annoying thing to which refugees are subjected. The 
 mistress is generally polite enough, but save me from the self- 
 sufficient cook. " I would like to oblige you, madam, but you 
 can't have loaf-bread to-morrow morning, because my mistress 
 has ordered loaf-bread and rolls, and our stove is small;" 
 or, " No, madam, you can't ' bile 1 a ham, nor nothing else 
 to-day, because it is our washing-day;" or, " No, ma'am, 
 you can't have biscuits for tea, because the stove is cold, 
 and I've got no time to heat it." So that we must either 
 submit, or go to the mistress for redress, and probably find 
 none, and thus run the risk of offending both mistress and 
 maid, both of whom have us very much in their power. As 
 I walked home from this unsuccessful effort, it was nearly 
 dark; the gas was being lighted in hall, parlour, and cham- 
 ber. I looked in as I passed, and saw cheerful countenan- 
 ces collecting around centre-tables, or sitting here and there 
 on handsome porticoes or marble steps, to enjoy the cool 
 evening breeze — countenances of those whose families I had 
 known from infancy, and who were still numbered among 
 my friends and acquaintances. I felt sad, and asked myself, 
 
302 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 if those persons could realize the wants of others, would 
 they not cheerfully rent some of their extra rooms ? Rooms 
 once opened on grand occasions, and now, as such occasions 
 are few and far between, not opened at all for weeks and 
 months together. 
 
 Would they not cheerfully remove some of their showy 
 and fragile furniture for a time, and allow those who had 
 once been accustomed to as large rooms of their own, to 
 occupy and take care of them ? The rent would perhaps 
 be no object with them, but their kindness might be 
 twice blessed — the refugees would be made comfortable and 
 happy, and the money might be applied to the wants of the 
 soldiers or the city poor. And yet a third blessing might be 
 added — the luxury of doing good. Ah, they would then find 
 that the " quality of mercy is not strained," but that it 
 would indeed, like the " gentle dew from heaven," fall into 
 their very souls, and diffuse a happiness of which they know 
 not. These thoughts filled my mind until I reached the 
 present home of a refugee friend from Washington. It 
 was very late, but I thought I would run in, and see if she 
 could throw any light upon our difficulties. I was sorry to 
 find that she was in a similar situation, her husband having 
 that day been notified that their rooms would be required 
 on the first of October. We compared notes of our room- 
 hunting experiences, and soon found ourselves laughing 
 heartily over occurrences and conversations which were both 
 provoking and ridiculous. I then wended my way home, 
 amid brilliantly lighted houses and badly lighted streets. 
 Squads of soldiers were sauntering along, impregnating the 
 air with tobacco-smoke ; men were standing at every 
 corner, lamenting the fall of Atlanta or the untimely end 
 of General Morgan. I too often caught a word, convey- 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1864. 303 
 
 ing blame of the President for having removed General 
 Johnston. This blame always irritates me, because the 
 public became so impatient at General Johnston's want of 
 action, that they were clamorous for his removal. For 
 weeks the President was abused without measure because 
 he was not removed, and now the same people are using 
 the same terms towards him because the course which they 
 absolutely required at his hands has disappointed them. 
 The same people who a month ago curled the lip in scorn 
 at General Johnston's sloth and want of energy, and 
 praised General Hood's course from the beginning of the 
 war, now shrug their unmilitary shoulders, whose straps 
 have never graced a battle-field, and pronounce the change 
 " unfortunate and uncalled for." General Hood, they say, 
 was an " admirable Brigadier," but his '' promotion was 
 most unfortunate ;" while General Johnston's " Fabian pol- 
 icy " is now pronounced the very thing for the " situation " — 
 the course which would have saved Atlanta, and have made 
 all right. This may all be true, but it is very distressing 
 to hear it harped upon now ; quite as much so as it was 
 six weeks ago to hear the President called obstinate, Be- 
 cause he was ruining the country by not removing General 
 J. But I will no longer make myself uneasy about what I 
 hear, for I have implicit confidence in our leaders, both in 
 the Cabinet and on the field. Were I a credulous woman, 
 and ready to believe all that I hear in the office, in the hos- 
 pital, in my visits and on the streets, I should think that 
 Richmond is now filled with the most accomplished mili- 
 tary geniuses on which the sun shines. Each man expresses 
 himself, as an old friend would say, with the most " dog- 
 matic infallibility " of the conduct of the President, Gen- 
 eral Lee, General Johnston, General Hampton, General 
 
304 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 Beauregard, General Wise, together with all the other 
 lights of every degree. It is true that there are as many 
 varieties of opinion as there are men expressing them, or I 
 should profoundly regret that so much military light should 
 be obscured among the shades of the Richmond Depart- 
 ments ; but I do wish that some of them would refrain from 
 condemning the acts of our leaders, and from uttering such 
 awful prophecies, provided the President or General Lee 
 does not do so and so. Although I do not believe their fore- 
 bodings, yet the reiteration of such opinions, in the most 
 assured tones, makes me nervous and uneasy. I would that 
 all such men could be sent to the field ; I think at least a 
 regiment could be spared from Richmond, for then the wo- 
 men of the city at least would be more peaceful. 
 
 12th. — After holding a consultation with a particular 
 
 friend of Dr. M., together with Mr. and the " Colonel," 
 
 we have determined to await the decision of Mr. about 
 
 the rooms on Franklin Street, and not to attempt to get 
 others, hoping that as there are so many competitors for 
 them, we may be considered the rightful claimants. There 
 can be no doubt that they were promised to us. 
 
 The morning papers report " all quiet " at Petersburg, 
 except that shells are daily thrown into the city, and that 
 many of the women and children are living in tents in the 
 country, so as to be out of the reach of shells. 
 
 The death of the bold and dashing General Morgan is 
 deeply regretted. He has done us great service through- 
 out the war, but particularly since his wonderful escape 
 from his incarceration in the Ohio Penitentiary. It seems 
 so short a time since he was here, all classes delighting to do 
 him reverence. It is hard for us to have to give up such men. 
 
 General Hood telegraphs that the inhabitants of Atlanta 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1S64. 305 
 
 have been ordered to leave their homes, to go they know 
 not whither. Lord, how long must we suffer such things ? 
 I pray that the enemy's hands may be stayed, and that they 
 may be driven from oar fair borders to their own land. I ask 
 not vengeance upon them, but that they may be driven to 
 their own homes, and that we may be henceforward and 
 forever a separate people. 
 
 Wth. — A visit to-day from my • brother Dr. B., who 
 bears the utter desolation of his home quietly, though so 
 sudden a change of circumstances is of course very depress- 
 ing. He tells me that he has lately had a visit from a very 
 interesting young South Carolinian, who came to look for 
 the body of his brother. The two brothers were being 
 educated in Germany when the war broke out; and as soon 
 as they were of military age, with the consent of their par- 
 ents, they hastened home to take part in their country's 
 struggle. In one of the cavalry fights in Hanover, in May 
 last, one brother was killed, and the other, " not being able 
 to find the body at the time, was now seeking it." His 
 mother was on the ocean returning to her home, and he 
 could not meet her with the information that her son's body 
 could not be found. He had heard that some of the fallen 
 had been buried at S. H. or W. He mentioned that 
 their intimate friend, young Middleton, had fallen in the same 
 fight. Mr. Middleton had been buried at S. H., and his 
 grave had been marked by Mrs. N. ; but young Pringle 
 (the name of the brothers) had been carried to neither 
 place. Mr. Pringle had seen in a New York paper an 
 account given by a Yankee officer of several wounded Con- 
 federates who had been captured, and having died on their 
 way to the " White House," they were buried by the road- 
 side, and he had some reason to believe that his brother was 
 
306 DIAEY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 among them. It was then remembered that there were 
 three graves on the opposite side of the Pamunky River, and 
 one was marked with the name " Tingle." It was an ex- 
 cessively warm Sunday morning ; but as the young soldier's 
 furlough only extended to the following day, there was no 
 time to be lost. Dr. B. and the brother set out upon their 
 melancholy mission, having obtained a cart, one or two men, 
 and given an order at a neighbouring carpenter's shop for a 
 coffin. After crossing the river they found the three 
 graves, at the place designated, in the county 'of King Wil- 
 liam. The one marked " Tingle " contained the body of a 
 Federal and one of a Confederate soldier, but not the broth- 
 er. The next one opened was not the right one; but the 
 third contained the much-loved remains, which were easily 
 recognized by the anxious brother. Tenderly and gently, 
 all wrapped in his blanket, he was transferred from his 
 shallow grave to his soldier's coffin, and then conveyed to 
 S. II., to be placed by his friend Middleton. It was now 
 night, the moon shone brightly, and all was ready. The fam- 
 ilies from both houses gathered around the grave. " Slow- 
 ly and sadly they laid him down.'' No minister of the 
 Gospel was near to perform the services. Dr. B. stood at 
 the head with a Prayer-Book for the purpose, but his defec- 
 tive sight obliged him to yield the book to Mrs. N., who, 
 with a clear, calm voice read by the light of a single lan- 
 tern the beautiful ritual of the Episcopal Church. The 
 grave was filled in solemn silence, the brother standing at 
 the foot. "When all was over, the young ladies and chil- 
 dren of the families advanced with wreaths and bouquets, 
 and in an instant the soldier's grave was a mound of fresh 
 flowers. The brother could no longer restrain his feelings ; 
 he was completely overwhelmed, and was obliged to retire 
 
SEPTEMBER, 1864. 307 
 
 to his room, where he could indulge thera freely. Next 
 morning he returned to his command, after a leave-taking 
 in which the feelings expressed by all parties evinced more 
 of the friendship of years than the acquaintance of hours. 
 It seems strange indeed that this scene, so similar to that 
 of the burial of the lamented Captain Latane, should have 
 occurred at the same place. But who could relate, who 
 could number the sad scenes of this war ? Many such have 
 probably occurred in various parts of the country. 
 
 18th. — Nothing yet from Mr. about our rooms. 
 
 All the furnished rooms that I have seen, except those, 
 would cost us from $100 to $110 per month for each 
 room, which, of course, we cannot pay; but we will try and 
 not be anxious overmuch, for the Lord has never let us 
 want comforts since we left our own dear home, and if we 
 use the means which He has given us properly and in His 
 fear, He will not desert us now. 
 
 I went with Mr. as usual this morning to the " Officers' 
 
 Hospital," where he read a part of the service and delivered 
 an address to such patients among the soldiers as were well 
 enough to attend. I acted as his chorister, and when the ser- 
 vices were over, and he went around to the bedsides of the 
 patients, I crossed the street, as I have done several times 
 before, to the cemetery — the old " Shockoe Hill Cemetery." 
 It is, to me, the most interesting spot in the city. It is a 
 melancholy thought, that, after an absence of thirty years, 
 I am almost a stranger in my native place. In this ceme- 
 tery I go from spot to spot, and find the names that were 
 the household words of my childhood and youth ; the names 
 of my father's and mother's friends ; of the friends of my 
 sisters, and of my own school-days. The first that struck 
 me was that of the venerable and venerated Bishop Moore, 
 
308 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 on the monument erected by his church: then, that of his 
 daughter, the admirable Miss Christian; then the monu- 
 ment to Colonel Ambler, erected by his children. Mrs. 
 Ambler lies by him. Mr. and Mrs. Chapman Johnson, 
 Judge and Mrs. Cabell, Mr. and Mrs. John "Wickham, sur- 
 rounded by their children, who were the companions of my 
 youth; also, their lovely grand-daughter, Mrs. W. H. P. 
 Lee, who passed away last winter, at an early age, while 
 her husband was prisoner of war. Near them is the grave 
 of the Hon. Benjamin Watkins Leigh; of Judge and Mrs. 
 Stanard, and of their gifted son; of dear Mrs. Henningham 
 Lyons and her son James, from whose untimely end she never 
 recovered; of our sweet friend, Mrs. Lucy Green. Then 
 there is the handsome monument of Mrs. Abraham War- 
 wick and the grave of her son, dear Clarence, who died 
 so nobly at Gaines's Mill in 1862. His grave seems to be 
 always covered with fresh flowers, a beautiful offering to 
 one whose young life was so freely given to his country. 
 Again I stood beside the tombs of two friends, whom I 
 dearly loved, Mrs. Virginia Heth and Mrs. Mary Ann Bar- 
 ney, the lovely daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Gwath- 
 ney, whose graves are also there. Then the tomb of our 
 old friend, Mr. James Rawlings, and those of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Herbert A. Claiborne and their daughter, Mary Burnet. 
 Just by them is the newly-made grave of our sweet niece, 
 Mary Anna, the wife of Mr. H. Augustine Claiborne, 
 freshly turfed and decked with the flowers she loved so 
 dearly. A little farther on lies my young cousin, Yirginia, 
 wife of Major J. H. Claiborne, and her two little daughters, 
 But why should I go on ? Time would fail me to enu- 
 merate all the loved and lost. Their graves look so peaee^ 
 ful in that lovely spot. Most of them died before wui 
 
SEPTEMBEE, 1864. 309 
 
 came to distress them. The names of two persons I can- 
 not omit, before whose tombs I pause with a feeling of ven- 
 eration for their many virtues. One was that of Mrs. Sully, 
 my music-teacher, a lady who was known and respected by 
 the whole community for her admirable character, accom- 
 panied by the most quiet and gentle manner. The other 
 was that of Mr. Joseph Danforth, the humble but excellent 
 friend of my precious father. The cemetery at Hollywood 
 is of later date, though many very dear to me repose amid 
 its beautiful shades. 
 
 But enough of the past and of sadness. I must now turn 
 to busy life again, and note a little victory, of which Gen- 
 eral Lee telegraphed yesterday, by which we gained some 
 four hundred prisoners, many horses and wagons, and 2,500 
 beeves. These last are most acceptable to our commissa- 
 riat ! 
 
 The Southern Army are having an armistice of ten days, 
 for the inhabitants of Atlanta to get off from their homes. 
 Exiled by Sherman, my heart bleeds for them. May the 
 good Lord have mercy upon them, and have them in His holy 
 keeping ! 
 
 2lst. — Bad news this morning. General Early has had 
 a defeat in the Valley, near Winchester, and has fallen back 
 to Strasburg. Our loss reported heavy. Major-General 
 Rodes killed, and Brigadier-General Godwin and General 
 Fitz Lee wounded. No other casualties heard of; and I 
 dread to hear more. 
 
 28th. — Mr. P. came home, and at once decided that we 
 were entitled to the rooms. By this arrangement we a"re 
 greatly relieved. The family who occupied them have 
 
 moved off, and Mr. having convinced the third 
 
 party of his mistake, has taken off his hands the coal and 
 
310 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 flour which he had stored away, and now all is straight. 
 The " Colonel" and ourselves moved our goods and chattels 
 to these rooms yesterday. The M's will be here in a day 
 or two. We have a long walk to our offices, but it is very 
 
 near my hospital. Mr. 's hospital is very far from every 
 
 point, as it is on the outskirts of the city; but he thinks the 
 walk is conducive to his health, so that we are, upon the 
 whole, very comfortable. 
 
 October 10. — I am cast down by hearing that J. P. has 
 been captured; he was caught while scouting in the enemy's 
 lines, on James River. Poor child ! I feel very, very 
 anxious about him. 
 
 Our army in the Yalley has regained its foothold, the 
 enemy having retreated. E. C. had his horse killed under 
 him in a fight near Waynesborough, but he escaped unhurt. 
 
 The Federal Army below Richmond advanced a few days 
 ago, and took " Port Harrison." We live now amid perpet- 
 ual firing of cannon. The loss of Fort Harrison is, I am 
 afraid, a very serious loss to us. The enemy made a second 
 advance, which has been handsomely repulsed. They seem 
 to be putting forth their utmost efforts against us. I pray 
 that our armies may be able to resist them and drive them 
 to their own land. 
 
 12th. — The armies around Richmond remain quiet. But- 
 ler is digging the canal at " Dutch Gap," and Grant is for- 
 tifying " Fort Harrison " most vigorously. General Rosser 
 has had a little reverse in the Valley, losing some guns. He 
 had a cavalry fight, overcame the enemy, and drove them 
 for miles; but encountering a body of infantry "which was too 
 much for him, he had to retreat, leaving his guns to the 
 enemy. 
 
 The hospitals are full of the wounded; my afternoons 
 
*3 
 
 OCTOBER, 1864. 311 
 
 are very much engaged, nursing them. I was very sorry 
 yesterday to find R. S. painfully wounded. 
 
 13tt. — The day has passed as usual — six hours in the 
 Commissary Department, and the remainder occupied in 
 various ways. Rumours of fighting below Eichmond; we 
 hear the cannon, but it is said to be merely a skirmish. 
 
 20th. — Nothing new in the field. Armies quiet; per- 
 haps preparing for dreadful work. I got a note last night 
 from J. P., written with a pencil. He and other prisoners 
 are working ten hours a day on "Dutch Gap Canal." 
 They work under the fire of our own batteries. Poor fel- 
 low ! my heart yearns over him. 
 
 26tt. — The armies around Richmond continue quiet. 
 General Early's second misfortune was very depressing to 
 us all. "We are now recovering from it. I trust that God 
 will turn it all to our good. A striking and admirable ad- 
 dress from him to his soldiers was in the morning papers. 
 Oh, I trust they will retrieve their fortunes hereafter. 
 
 28tt. — Yery much interested lately in the hospitals ; not 
 only in our own, " the Robertson hospital," but in Mr. 
 's, " the officers' hospital." 
 
 He has just told me of a case which has interested me deep- 
 ly. An officer from the far South was brought in mortally 
 wounded. He had lost both legs in a fight below Peters- 
 burg. The poor fellow suffered excessively ; could not be 
 still a moment; and was evidently near his end. His 
 brother, who was with him, exhibited the bitterest grief, 
 watching and waiting on him with silent tenderness and 
 
 flowing tears. Mr. was glad to find that he was not 
 
 unprepared to die. He had been a professor of religion for 
 
 . some years, and told him that he was suffering too much to 
 
 think on that or any other subject, but he constantly tried 
 
312 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 to look to God for mercy. Mr. then recognized him, 
 
 for the first time, as a patient who had been in the hospital 
 last spring, and whose admirable character had then much 
 impressed him. He was a gallant and brave officer, yet so 
 kind and gentle to those under his control that his men 
 were deeply attached to him, and the soldier who nursed 
 him showed his love by his anxious care of his beloved cap- 
 tain. After saying to him a few words about Christ and his 
 free salvation, offering up a fervent prayer in which he 
 seemed to join, and watching the sad scene for a short time, 
 
 Mr. left him for the night. The surgeons apprehended 
 
 that he would die before morning, and so it turned out; at 
 the chaplain's early call there was nothing in his room but 
 the chilling signal of the empty " hospital bunk." He was 
 buried that day, and we trust will be found among the re- 
 deemed in the day of the Lord. This, it was thought, 
 would be the last of this good man; but in the dead of night 
 came hurriedly a single carriage to the gate of the hospital. 
 A lone woman, tall, straight, and dressed in deep mourniDg, 
 got quickly out, and moved rapidly up the steps into the 
 large hall, where, meeting the guard, she asked anxiously, 
 " Where's Captain T. V Taken by surprise, the man 
 answered hesitatingly, " Captain T. is dead, madam, and 
 was buried to-day." This terrible announcement was as a 
 thunderbolt at the very feet of the poor lady, who fell to 
 the floor as one dead. Starting up, oh, how she made that 
 immense building ring with her bitter lamentations! Worn 
 down with apprehension and weary with travelling over a 
 thousand miles by day aud night, without stopping for a 
 moment's rest, and wild with grief, she could hear no voice 
 of sympathy — she regarded not the presence of one or many; ■ 
 she told the story of her married life, as if she were alone— 
 
OCTOBER, 1864. 313 
 
 how her husband was the best man that ever lived; how 
 everybody loved him; how kind he was to all; how devoted 
 to herself; how he loved his children, took care of, and did 
 every thing for them; how, from her earliest years almost, 
 she had loved him as herself; how tender he was of her, 
 watching over her in sickness, never seeming to weary of it, 
 never to be unwilling to make any sacrifice for her comfort 
 and happiness; how that, when the telegraph brought the 
 dreadful news that he was dangerously wounded, she never 
 waited an instant nor stopped a moment by the way, day 
 nor night, and now " I drove as fast as the horses could 
 come from the depot to this place, and he is dead and 
 buried! — I never shall see his face again 1" " What shall 
 I do?" — " But where is he buried ?" They told her where. 
 "I must go there; he must be taken up; I must see him !" 
 "But, madam, you can't see him; he has been buried some 
 hours." " But I must see him; I can't live without seeing 
 him ; I must hire some one to go and take him up ; can't 
 you get some one to take him up ? I'll pay him well ; just 
 get some men to take him up. I must take him home ; he 
 must go home with me. The last thing I said to his 
 children was, that they must be good children, and I would 
 bring their father home, and they are waiting for him now ! 
 He must go; I can't go without him; I can't meet his chil- 
 dren without him !" and so, with her woman's heart, she 
 could not be turned aside — nothing could alter her purpose. 
 The next day she had his body taken up and embalmed. 
 She watched by it until every thing was ready, and then car- 
 ried him back to his own house and his children, only to seek 
 a grave for the dead father close by those he loved, among 
 kindred and friends in the fair sunny land he died to defend. 
 Many painfully interesting scenes occur, which I would like 
 14 
 
314 DIAET OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 so much to write in my diary, but time fails me at night, 
 and my hours of daylight are very closely occupied. 
 
 November 13. — The "military situation" seems very 
 much the same. Some cheering intimations from Georgia. 
 Hood has made movements on Sherman's flank, and For- 
 rest upon his rear, which it is thought promise most valu- 
 able results, but nothing final has been yet accomplished, 
 and we may be too sanguine. 
 
 General Price is still successful in Missouri. 
 
 In the Valley of Virginia an immense amount of private 
 property has been destroyed. Sheridan, glorying in his 
 shame, boasts of, and probably magnifies, what has been 
 done in that way. He telegraphs to Grant that he has 
 burned 2,000 barns. The Lord shorten his dreadful work, 
 and have mercy upon the sufferers I 
 
 Nothing new about Richmond. A few days ago the en- 
 emy made several attempts to advance upon the Darbytown 
 road, and were handsomely repulsed. The firing of cannon 
 is so common a sound that it is rather remarkable when we 
 do not hear it. 
 
 Mr. has been telling us of some other interesting 
 
 cases in his hospital; among them, that of Captain Brown, 
 of North Carolina, has awakened our sympathies. He came 
 into the hospital bright and cheerful, with every appearance 
 of speedy recovery. He talked a great deal of his wife and 
 six children at home, one of whom he had never seen. 
 Knowing that his wife would be sick, he had obtained a 
 furlough, and made arrangements to go home, but the re- 
 eent battles coming on, he would not leave his post. Through 
 many a hard-fought action God had kept him unharmed; he 
 had never been touched by a solitary weapon, until he be- 
 gan to feel that there was not the slightest danger to him, 
 
NOVEMBER, 1864. 315 
 
 even amid the harvest of death. He wrote that he should be 
 at home as soon as this fight was over ; but it was not to 
 be so, and he soon came into the hospital severely wounded. 
 As he lay upon his bed of suffering, the image of his dear 
 wife in her sickness and sorrow, and then with her new-born 
 infant, seemed constantly before him. " I intended to be 
 there," he would say dreamily ; " I made all my arrange- 
 ments to be there ; I know she wants me ; she wrote to me 
 to come to her ; oh, I wish I was there, but now I can't go, 
 but I hope I did right ; I hope it is all right." A letter 
 from her, speaking of herself and infant as doing well 
 relieved his anxiety, and he tried to bear the disappoint- 
 ment with patience, still hoping soon to be at home. God, 
 however, had ordered it otherwise. "The word had gone 
 forth, " He shall not return to his house, neither shall his 
 place know him any more." Gangrene appeared, and it 
 was melancholy to see his strength giving way, his hopes 
 fading, and death coming steadily on. He was a professor 
 
 of religion, and Mr. says he was always ready to hear 
 
 the word of God, and, though anxious to -live, yet he put 
 himself into the Lord's hand, with humble faith and hope, 
 such as may give his friends assurance that death was gain 
 to him. 
 
 The war news seems encouraging. Many persons are 
 very despondent, but I do not feel so — perhaps I do not un- 
 derstand the military signs. Our men below Richmond 
 have certainly had many successes of late. Sheridan, in- 
 stead of capturing Lynchburg, as he promised, is retreating 
 down the Valley. In the South, the army of Tennessee is 
 in Sherman's rear, and Forrest still carries every thing be- 
 fore him. General Price seems to be doing well in Mis- 
 souri ; Arkansas and Texas seem to be all right. Kentucky, 
 
316 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 too, (poor Kentucky ! ) seems more hopeful. Then why 
 should we despond ? Maryland, alas for Maryland ! the 
 tyrant's heel appears too heavy for her, and we grievously 
 fear that the prospect of her union with the South is rapid- 
 ly passing away. If we must give her up, it will not be 
 without sorrow and mortification. We shall mournfully 
 bewail her dishonour and shame. If her noble sons who 
 have come to the South must return, they will take with 
 them our gratitude and admiration for their gallant bear- 
 ing in many a hard-fought battle. Readily will we receive 
 those who choose to remain among us ; and in holy ground 
 take care of her honoured dead, who so freely gave their lives 
 for Southern rights. The Potomac may seem to some the 
 natural boundary between North and South ; but it is hard 
 to make up one's mind yet to the entire surrender of our sister 
 State ; and if we could, gladly would we hope for Mary- 
 land, even as we hope for the Southern Confederacy herself. 
 2,1st. — -We attended hospital services yesterday as usual. 
 There are few patients, and none are very ill. On Friday 
 night a most unexpected death took place, under very pain- 
 ful circumstances. A young adjutant lost his life by jump- 
 ing out of a window at the head of his bed, about ten feet 
 from the ground. His attendants were a sister, brother, and 
 two servants. His suffering with a wound in his foot had 
 been so intense that he would not allow any one to touch it 
 except the ward-master, who handled it with the greatest 
 tenderness. Yet while his attendants were asleep (for they 
 thought it unnecessary to be up with him all night) he 
 managed to get up, raise the window, and throw himself 
 out, without disturbing one of them. His mind was no 
 doubt unsettled, as it had been before. He lived about an 
 hour after being found. His poor sister was wild with 
 
NOVEMBER, 1864. 317 
 
 grief and horror, and his other attendants dreadfully 
 shocked. 
 
 23tf. — Military movements are kept very much in the 
 dark. Nothing going on about Richmond, except cannon- 
 ading, particularly at Dutch Gap. 
 
 Sherman is moving across Georgia in direction of Mil- 
 ledgeville, looking towards Savannah, or perhaps Charles- 
 ton, or to some intermediate point on the coast, where he 
 may, if necessary, meet with reinforcements and supplies 
 from Federal shipping already there, or on their way down 
 the Atlantic coast for that very purpose. Efforts are being 
 made by the Governors of South Carolina and Georgia to 
 arrest him. Beauregard, too, has made a short, stirring 
 address, assuring them that he was hastening down to their 
 aid, and that with proper exertions which might be made 
 on their part, the destruction of the enemy would be cer- 
 tain. Nothing equal to the demands of these trying times 
 has yet been done by any of the authorities. Oh that they 
 would strain every nerve to put a stop to this bold and 
 desolating invader ! It would require united effort, made 
 without delay. No hesitation, no doubting and holding 
 back must there be ; every human being capable of bearing 
 arms must fly to the rescue ; all the stores of every kind 
 should be destroyed or removed ; bridges burned, roads 
 torn up or obstructed ; every difficulty should be thrown in 
 the way. He should be harassed day and night, that he 
 might be delayed, and entrapped, and ruined. Oh that 
 ■ these things could be done ! It may be a woman's thought, 
 but I believe that had Georgia one tithe of the experience 
 of the ruined, homeless Virginians, she would exert every 
 fibre of her frame to destroy the enemy ; she would have 
 no delusive hope of escape. I trust that the doctrines of 
 
318 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUG-EE. 
 
 Brown, Stephens, and such like, are not now bearing their 
 bitter fruits ! that the people of patriotic Georgia have not 
 been rendered unfit for the sacrifices and dangers of this 
 fearful day, when every man is required to stand in the 
 deadly breach, and every earthly interest, even life itself, 
 must be surrendered rather than yield to the barbarous 
 foe, by their treasonable doctrines of reconstruction, re- 
 union, etc. Oh, I trust not ; and I hope that our now un- 
 certain mails may bring information that all Georgia and 
 South Carolina are aroused to their awful condition. 
 
 December 4, Sunday. — We attended this evening the 
 funeral of Colonel Angus W. McDonald, the relative of 
 
 Mr. . His is a sad story. He was educated at 
 
 West Point, but in early life resigned his position in the 
 regular army and joined a company of fur traders, went 
 with them to the Rocky Mountains, where he led an adven- 
 turous life, well suited to his excitable temper. For years 
 his life was full of adventure, with the broad heavens for 
 his roof and the cold earth for his couch. With a bold 
 spirit and great muscular power, he soon acquired extensive 
 influence with the Indian tribes among which he moved, 
 and was chosen as the chief of one of them, where he was 
 known as the " Big Warrior." As such he led his braves to 
 many a hard-fought battle, and taught surrounding tribes to 
 fear him and them, by such courage and prowess as always 
 so deeply impress the savage mind. Many incidents of his 
 life among the Indians are full of interest. On one occa- 
 sion, having received an injury from a neighbouring tribe, 
 he sent to them that he was coming to settle with them for 
 it, and that they must meet him for the purpose, at a 
 certain time and place. Accordingly, all their warriors were 
 assembled and seated in due form, at the proper distance 
 
DECEMBEE, 1864. 319 
 
 from and around a central post, ready and waiting for the 
 conference. At the appointed time, the " Big Warrior," in 
 fall dress, made his appearance, and striding through to the 
 centre of the dark, silent circle, he struck his tomahawk 
 deep into the "post," and looking quietly but sternly 
 around from one gloomy warrior to another, he in few 
 words told them why he was there, and what he required 
 of them. " You have insulted me," said he ; " you robbed 
 some of my men, and you killed two of them ; you must 
 restore the goods and give up the murderers, or you must 
 fight it out, and I am here for that purpose." His impos- 
 ing appearance, his boldness, the justice of his cause, and 
 his steady purpose of retaliating to the full, so awed them, 
 that his terms were promptly assented to, and he quickly 
 returned to his people with the most ample satisfaction 
 for the injuries they had received. He grew weary of this 
 life after some years, and determined to return to his early 
 home and associations. Acting upon this impulse, we next 
 find him in Romney, Hampshire County, among his kindred, 
 where he quietly resumed the duties of civilized life, was 
 married, and practised law for years. Still restless and dif- 
 ferent from other men, he was constantly speculating in one 
 thing and another — politics, property, etc. At one time he 
 was in the Virginia Legislature, and controlled the vote 
 of his county in a way new to our republican experience. 
 For this purpose he got possession of a large mountain 
 region, filling it with a population whom he ruled very 
 much as a Scottish chief would have done in his ancestral 
 Highlands, and using their votes to decide any public con- 
 troversy in which he chose to engage. This, of course, did 
 not last long ; it was too much opposed to the public views 
 and feelings, and under the consequent changes around him, 
 
320 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 he found it expedient to return to private life. From this 
 retirement, however, his native State soon recalled him, as 
 one of the three commissioners to settle the boundary line 
 between Maryland and Virginia. In his capacity as such, 
 the Virginia Legislature sent him to England to examine 
 the public records bearing upon this subject. He discharged 
 the duties of his mission with ability aud success, as his 
 voluminous report will show. The present -war found him 
 residing with his large family near Winchester, his native 
 place. The Confederate Government having given him the 
 commission of a colonel, it was hoped that he would be of 
 great use in the bloody contest ; but a discipline better 
 suited in its severity to Indian warriors than to our high- 
 minded volunteers, together with advanced years and de- 
 clining health, disappointed the expectations of himself 
 and his friends. He found, indeed, that bodily infirmity 
 alone rendered him unfit for active service, and this, with 
 other difficulties, made it proper to break up his command. 
 Thus it happened that when that brute, Hunter, marched 
 through Lexington, spreading desolation in his path, 
 Colonel McDonald, then a resident of the town, believing 
 that the euemy, who had manifested great harshness tow- 
 ards him, injuring his property near Winchester, etc., 
 would arrest him, determined to keep out of their way, 
 aud with others took refuge in a neighbouring forest. 
 Here, unfortunately, the enemy found him, with his son Harry, 
 a youth of some sixteen years, and took them prisoners. 
 It is somewhat singular that the presence of this devoted 
 son caused the father's arrest. He had always determined 
 that he would never surrender, never be taken alive. But 
 when he looked at this boy, who had fought so nobly by 
 his side, and who would surely be sacrificed if he refused to 
 
DECEMBER, 1864. 321 
 
 surrender, he could fight no longer ; it seemed to nim, as 
 he afterwards said, as the voice from Heaven which stayed 
 the armed hand of Abraham, and he could not fire an- 
 other shot. Father and son were thus captured. Harry 
 escaped in a day or two ; but the father was tied and 
 dragged along at a rapid pace towards the Maryland line. 
 When he could no longer walk a step, they allowed him to 
 get into a wagon with nothing to rest upon but some old 
 iron, rough tools, etc. Thus they hastened him to Cumber- 
 land, Maryland, where they handcuffed him and put him into 
 solitary confinement ; thence he was hurried to Wheeling, 
 where he was again, with his manacles on, shut up in a dun- 
 geon, seven feet by ten, with nothing to relieve the suffer- 
 ings incident to such a fate, nothing to expect or hope for, 
 but the bitterest cruelty. Prom this dreadful captivity he 
 was released two or three weeks ago, and reached the house 
 of his daughter, in this city, with health, bad for years, now 
 worse than ever, and constitution entirely broken by hard 
 and cruel bondage. Cheered by freedom, and the society 
 of his children who were here, he flattered himself that he 
 would be enabled to return to his home of refuge in Lex- 
 ington. This hope proved delusive. It soon appeared that 
 his whole nervous system was shattered, and his end rapid- 
 ly approaching ; his wife was sent for, but did not arrive 
 until the day after he died. Not dreaming of what awaited 
 her, she came full of hope and joy at the anticipated meet- 
 ing. But who may describe the grief which overwhelmed 
 her on her arrival ? His checkered life was closed in his 
 sixty-sixth year. The funeral took place this evening at 
 St. Paul's Church. He was buried with military honors, at 
 Hollywood Cemetery. While manacled in the horrid dun- 
 geon, his only petition was to be allowed to keep a Bible, from 
 
322 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 which he professed to hare derived great peace and comfort. 
 His family think that he returned from prison a changed 
 man. His spirit, which was naturally stem, had become 
 gentle and loving, and strangely grateful to every being who 
 showed him the least kindness. The Bible was still his daily 
 companion ; from it he seemed to derive great comfort and an 
 abiding faith in Christ his Saviour. 
 
 l'HA. — The military movements are important, but to 
 what they tend we know not. More troops have been 
 added from Sheridan to Grant, and Early to Lee, and Sherman 
 has crossed Georgia with little opposition or loss. Our 
 last news is, that he has taken Fort McAllister, some miles 
 below Savauoah. What fate awaits that city we tremble 
 to think of. A raid on Bristol and up the railroad, tow- 
 ards Saltville, has alarmed us for the salt-works ; but 
 General Breckinridge having turned up in the right place, 
 suddenly appeared in their front and drove them off, to the 
 great relief of the public mind. 
 
 2ith. — Savannah has been evacuated, without loss to us, 
 except of some stores, which could not be removed. The 
 city was surrendered by its mayor, Arnold by name, 
 and he seems to be worthy of the traitorous name. Our 
 troops marched towards Charleston. Savannah was of little 
 use to us for a year past, it has been so closely blockaded, 
 and its surrender relieves troops which were there for its 
 defence, which may be more useful elsewhere ; but the 
 moral effect of its fall is dreadful. The enemy are en- 
 couraged, and our people depressed. I never saw them 
 more so. 
 
 On the 22d General Rosser beat a division of the 
 enemy near Harrisonburg, and on the 23d General Lomax 
 repulsed and severely punished another, near Gordonsville. 
 
DECEMBEB, 1864, 323 
 
 To-morrow is Christmas-day. Our girls and B. have 
 gone to Cedar Hill to spend a week. Our office has sus- 
 pended its labours, and I am anticipating very quiet holi- 
 days. A Christmas present has just been handed me from 
 my sweet young friend S. W. — a box filled with all manner 
 of working materials, which are now so scarce and expen- 
 sive, with a beautiful mat for my toilet at the bottom of it. 
 Christmas will come on the Sabbath. The "Colonel" is 
 gone, but J. and C. will take their usual Sunday dinner, 
 and I have gotten up a little dessert, because Christmas 
 would not be Christmas without something better than 
 usual; but it is a sad season to me. On last Christmas- 
 day our dear R. T. C. was buried; and yesterday I saw my 
 sweet young cousin E. M. die, and to-morrow expect to 
 attend her funeral. Full of brightness and animation, full 
 of Christian hope and charity, she was the life of her 
 father's house, the solace and comfort of her already afflicted 
 mother, one of the many mothers whose first-born has fallen 
 a sacrifice to the war. This interesting girl, with scarcely 
 a warning, has passed into heaven, leaving a blank in the 
 hearts of her family never to be filled. 
 
 26tt. — The sad Christmas has passed away. J. and C. 
 were with us, and very cheerful. We exerted ourselves to 
 be so too. The Church services in the morning were sweet 
 and comforting. St. Paul's was dressed most elaborately 
 and beautifully with evergreens; all looked as usual; but 
 there is much sadness on account of the failure of the South 
 to keep Sherman back. When we got home our family 
 circle was small, but pleasant. The Christmas turkey and 
 ham were not. We had aspired to a turkey, but finding 
 the prices range from $50 to $100 in the market on Satur- 
 day, we contented ourselves with roast-beef and the various 
 
324 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 little dishes which Confederate times have made us believe 
 are tolerable substitutes for the viands of better days. At 
 night I treated our little party to tea and ginger cakes- 
 two very rare indulgences; and but for the sorghum, grown 
 iu our own fields, the cakes would be an impossible in- 
 dulgence. Nothing but the well-ascertained fact that Christ- 
 mas comes but once a year would make such extravagance 
 at all excusable. We propose to have a family gathering 
 when the girls come home, on the day before or after New 
 Year's day, (as that day will come on Sunday,) to enjoy to- 
 gether, and with one or two refugee friends, the contents of 
 a box sent the girls by a young officer who captured it 
 from the enemy, consisting of white sugar, raisins, preserves, 
 pickles, spices, etc. They threaten to give us a plum-cake, 
 and I hope they will carry it out, particularly if we have 
 any of our army friends with us. Poor fellows, how they 
 enjoy our plain dinners when they come, and how we love 
 to see them enjoy them! Two meals a day has become the 
 universal system among refugees, and many citizens, from 
 necessity. The want of our accustomed tea or coffee is very 
 much felt by the elders. The rule with us is only to have 
 tea when sickness makes it necessary, and the headaches 
 gotten up about dark have become the joke of the family. 
 A country lady, from one of the few spots in all Virginia 
 where the enemy has never been, and consequently where 
 they retain their comforts, asked me gravely why we did 
 not substitute milk for tea. She could scarcely believe me 
 when I told her that we had not had milk more than twice 
 in eighteen months, and then it was sent by a country 
 friend. It is now $4 a quart. 
 
 28i/i. — A bright spot in our military horizon. The 
 enemy's fleet of more than thirty gun-boats made a furious 
 
DECEMBEK, 1S64. 325 
 
 attack on Fort Fisher, near Wilmington, N. C, on the 
 24th, (last Saturday;) they kept up an average fire of 
 thirty shots per minute until night. On the 25th the attack 
 was renewed, and on the 27th, after being three times re- 
 pulsed, the enemy abandoned his position above Fort 
 Fisher, and re-embarked. The damage done to us was 
 very slight — only two guns disabled, and but few other 
 casualties. Thus failed utterly this great expedition of 
 land and sea forces, from which the Federal authorities and 
 the whole North confidently expected such grand results. 
 And so may it ever be; the Lord help us, and deliver us in 
 every such hour of need. 
 
 Yesterday we had a pleasant little dinner-party at Dr. 
 G's — so rare a thing now, that I must note it in my 
 diary. Many nice things on the table were sent by country 
 friends. What would we do without our country friends ? 
 Their hearts seem warm and generous to those who are not 
 so well off as themselves. They set a good example, which 
 1 trust will not be lost on us. Our relatives and friends, 
 though they have been preyed upon by the enemy almost 
 to exhaustion, never seem to forget us. Sausage from one, 
 a piece of beef from another, a bushel of dried fruit, a 
 turkey, etc., come ever and anon to our assistance. One 
 can scarcely restrain tears of affection when it is remember- 
 ed that these things are evidences of self-denial, and not 
 given from their abundance, as at the beginning of the war. 
 The soldiers are not forgotten by these country friends — 
 those who remember the refugees are never forgetful of the 
 soldiers. Take our people as a whole, they are full of gen- 
 erosity and patriotism. The speculators and money-makers 
 of these trying times are a peculiar class, of which I neither 
 like to speak, think, nor write; they are objects of my im- 
 
326 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 placable disgust. They do not belong to our noble South- 
 ern patriots. They are with us, but not of us! I shonld 
 think that a man who had made a fortune during the war 
 would, when the war is over, wish to hide it, and not own 
 his ill-gotten gains. I trust there are not many such. The 
 year 1864 has almost passed away. Oh, what a fearful 
 account it has rendered to Heaven! What calamities and 
 sorrows crowd into its history, in this afflicted country of 
 ours! God help us, and guide us onward and upward, for 
 the Saviour's sake ! 
 
1865. 
 
 January 1st, 1865. — At St. James's Church this morning. 
 Our children came over from Union Hill yesterday, to take 
 their dinner from the contents of the captured box, and 
 were detained by snow and rain. We were too much 
 pleased to have them with us not to make it convenient 
 to accommodate them, which we did with the assistance of 
 our kind friend Mrs. P. To-morrow F. and myself will 
 return to our offices, after a good rest, for which we are 
 very thankful. 
 
 2d. — This bitter cold morning, when we entered the 
 office, we found that our good " Major " had provided 
 us a New Year's treat of hot coffee. Of course we all 
 enjoyed it highly, and were very grateful to him; and when 
 I returned home, the first thing that met my eye was a box 
 sent from the express office. We opened it, and found it 
 a Christmas box, filled with nice and substantial things 
 from a friend now staying in Buckingham County, for whom 
 I once had an opportunity of doing some trifling kindness. 
 The Lord is certainly taking care of us through His people. 
 The refugees in some of the villages are much worse off than 
 we are. We hear amusing stories of a friend in an inland 
 place, where nothing can possibly be bought, hiring a 
 skilletfrom a servant for one dollar per month, and other 
 cooking utensils, which are absolutely necessary, at the 
 same rate; another in the same village, whose health seems 
 to require that she should drink something hot at night, 
 
328 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 has been obliged to resort to hot water, as she has neither 
 tea, coffee, sugar, nor milk. These ladies belong to wealthy 
 Virginia families. Many persons have no meat on their 
 tables for months at a time; and they are the real pat-riots, 
 who submit patiently, and without murmuring, to any priva- 
 tion, provided the country is doing well. The flesh-pots 
 of Egypt have no charms for them; they look forward 
 hopefully to the time when their country shall be disen- 
 thralled, never caring for the trials of the past or the 
 present, provided they can hope for the future. 
 
 8th. — Some persons in this beleaguered city seem 
 crazed on the subject of gayety. In the midst of the 
 wounded and dying, the low state of the commissariat, the 
 anxiety of the whole country, the troubles of every kind by 
 which we are surrounded, I am mortified to say that there 
 are gay parties given in the city. There are those denomi- 
 nated "starvation parties," where young persons meet for 
 innocent enjoyment, and retire at a reasonable hour; but 
 there are others where the most elegant suppers are served — 
 cakes, jellies, ices in profusion, and meats of the finest kinds 
 in abundance, such as might furnish a meal for a regiment of 
 General Lee's army. I wish these thiugs were not so, and 
 that every extra pound of meat could be sent to the army. 
 When returning from the hospital, after witnessing the 
 dying scene of a brother, whose young sister hung over him 
 in agony, with my heart full of the sorrows of hospital-life, 
 I passed a house where there were music and dancing. The 
 revulsion of feeling was sickening. I thought of the gayety 
 of Paris during the French Revolution, of the " cholera 
 ball " in Paris, the ball at Brussels the night before the 
 battle of Waterloo, and felt shocked that our own Yir. 
 ginians, at such a time, should remind me of scenes which 
 
JANUARY, 1865. 329 
 
 we were wont to think only belonged to the lightness of 
 foreign society. It seems to me that the army, when it 
 hears of the gayety of Richmond, must think it heartless, 
 particularly while it is suffering such hardships in her de- 
 fence. The weddings, of which there are many, seem to be 
 conducted with great quietness. We were all very much 
 interested in a marriage which took place in this house a 
 short time ago. Our sweet young friend, Miss A. P., 
 was married to a Confederate States' surgeon from South 
 Carolina. We assembled in the parlour, which was bril- 
 liantly lighted, before the dawn of day. The bride appeared 
 in travelling costume; as soon as the solemn ceremony was 
 done the folding-doors were thrown open, revealing a beauti- 
 fully spread breakfast-table in the adjoining room. Break- 
 fast being over, the bride and groom were hurried off to the 
 cars, which were to bear them South. But, as usual in 
 these war-times, the honeymoon was not to be uninterrupted. 
 The furlough of the groom was of short continuance — the 
 bright young bride will remain in the country with a sister, 
 while he returns to his duty on the field. As soon as the 
 wedding was over and the bridal party had gone, the excite- 
 ment of the week had passed with us, leaving a blank in the 
 house; but the times are too unquiet for a long calm — the 
 gap was closed, and we returned to busy life. There seems 
 to be a perfect mania on the subject of matrimony. Some 
 of the churches may be seen open and lighted almost every 
 night for bridals, and wherever I turn I hear of marriages 
 in prospect. 
 
 " In peace Love tunes the shepherd's reed ; 
 In war he mounts the warrior's steed," 
 
 sings the " Last Minstrel " of the Scottish days of romance; 
 and I do not think that our modern warriors are a whit 
 
330 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN" REFUGEE. 
 
 behind them either in love or war. My only wonder is, 
 that they find the time for the love-making amid the storms 
 of warfare. Just at this time, however, I suppose our 
 valiant knights and ladies fair are taking advantage of the 
 short respite, caused by the alternate snows and sunshine 
 of our variable climate having made the roads impassable 
 to Grant's artillery and baggage-wagons. A soldier in our 
 hospital called to me as I passed his bed the other day, 
 
 " I say, Mrs. , when do you think my wound will be 
 
 well enough for me to go to the country V " Before very 
 long, I hope." " But what does the doctor say, for I 
 am mighty anxious to go ?" I looked at his disabled limb, 
 and talked to him hopefully of his being able to enjoy 
 country air in a short time. " Well, try to get me up, for, 
 you see, it ain't the country air I am after, but I wants to 
 get married, and the lady don't know that I am wounded, 
 and maybe she'll think I don't want to come." " Ah," 
 said I, " but you must show her your scars, and if 
 she is a girl worth having she will love you all the better 
 for having bled for your country; and you must tell her 
 that 
 
 " ' It is always the heart that is "bravest in war, 
 That is fondest and truest in love.' " 
 
 He looked perfectly delighted with the idea; and as I 
 passed him again he called out, " Lady, please stop a 
 minute and tell me the verse over again, for, you see, when 
 I do get there, if she is affronted, I wants to give her the 
 prettiest excuse I can, and I think that verse is beautiful." 
 1 1 th. — Every thing seems unchanging in the outer 
 world during tha few past days. We were most delight- 
 fully surp.i^a last night. While sitting quietly in the 
 Colonel's room, (in the basement,) the window was suddenly 
 
JANUABY, 1865. 331 
 
 thrown up, and in sprang our son J., just returned from 
 Northern captivity. Finding that we had changed our 
 quarters since he was here, he walked up the street in search 
 of us, and while stopping to ascertain the right house, he 
 espied us through the half-open window-shutter, and was 
 too impatient for the preliminaries of ringing a bell and 
 waiting for a servant to open the door. He was in exu- 
 berant spirits, but much disappointed that his wife was not 
 with us. So, after a short sojourn and a cup of tea, he 
 went off to join her on " Union Hill." They both dined 
 with us to-day. His confinement has not been so bad as 
 we feared, from the treatment which many other prisoners 
 had received, but it was disagreeable enough. He was 
 among the surgeons in Winchester in charge of the sick and 
 wounded; and when we retreated before Sheridan after 
 the battle of the 19th of August, it fell to his lot, among 
 eighteen or twenty other surgeons, to be left there to take 
 care of our captured wounded. When those duties were 
 at an end, instead of sending them under flag of truce to our 
 own army, they were taken first to the old Capitol, where 
 they remained ten days, thence to Fort Delaware, for one 
 night, and thence to Fort Hamilton, near Fortress Monroe, 
 where they were detained four weeks. They there met 
 with much kindness from Southern ladies, and also from a 
 Federal officer, Captain Blake. 
 
 16th. — Fort Fisher has fallen; Wilmington will of 
 course follow. This was our last port into which block- 
 ade-runners were successful in entering, and which furnished 
 us with an immense amount of stores. What will be the 
 effect of this disaster we know not; we can only hope and 
 pray. 
 
 2M — We hear nothing cheering except in the pro- 
 
332 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 ceedings of Congress and the Virginia Legislature, par- 
 ticularly the latter. Both bodies lo ok to stern resistance 
 to Federal authority. The city and country are full of 
 rumours and evil surmising; and while we do not believe 
 one word of the croaking, it makes us feel restless and 
 unhappy. 
 
 29th, Sunday. — As usual, we attended Mr. Peter- 
 kin's church, and enjoyed his sermon. Every thing looks so 
 dark without that our only comfort is in looking to God for 
 His blessing. The "Union Prayer-Meetings are great com- 
 forts to us. They are attended by crowds; ministers of all 
 denominations officiate at them. Prayers for the country, 
 hymns of praise, and exhortations, fill up the time. Some 
 of the addresses are very stirring, urging the laity to work 
 and to give, and to every branch of the Christian Church 
 to do its duty to the country. Our brave old Bishop 
 Meade, on his dying bed, admonished one of his presbyters 
 to speak boldly to the people in behalf of the country; and 
 I am glad to hear the ministers do it. They speak cheer- 
 fully, too, on the subject; they are sanguine of our success, 
 depending upon the Lord and on the bravery of our troops 
 — on the " sword of the Lord and of Gideon." 
 
 February 8. — I feel more and more anxious about Rich- 
 mond. I can't believe that it will be given up; yet so many 
 persons are doubtful that it makes me very unhappy. I can't 
 keep a regular diary now, because I do not like to write 
 all that I feel and hear. I am constantly expecting the 
 blessing of God in a way that we know not. I believe that 
 all of our difficulties are to be overruled for good. A croaker 
 accuses me of expecting a miracle to be wrought in our favour, 
 which I do not; but we have been so often led on in a 
 manner so wonderful, that we have no right to doubt the 
 
FEBKUAKY, 1865. 333 
 
 mercy of God towards us. Our troops, too, are standing 
 up under such hardships and trials, which require the most 
 sublime moral as well as personal courage to endure, that 
 I cannot avoid expecting a blessing upon them ! 
 
 Sherman moves on in his desolating path. Oh for men 
 to oppose and crush him I 
 
 In the midst of our trials, Hymen still comes in to assert 
 his claims, and to amuse and interest us. We have lately 
 seen our beautiful young friend, M. G., led to his altar; 
 and two of our young office associates are bidding us fare- 
 well for the same sacrifice. One of them, Miss T. W., 
 has sat by my side for more than a year, with her bright 
 face and sweet manners. She will be a real loss to 
 me, but I cannot find it in my heart to regret that she will 
 bless with her sweetness one of our brave Confederate of- 
 ficers. 
 
 28^/i. — Our new Commissary- General is giving us bright- 
 er hopes for Richmond by his energy. Not a stone is left 
 unturned to collect all the provisions from the country. 
 Ministers of the Gospel and others have gone out to the 
 various county towns and court-houses, to urge the 
 people to send in every extra bushel of corn or pound of 
 meat for the army. The people only want enlightening on 
 the subject; it is no want of patriotism which makes them 
 keep any portion of their provisions. Circulars are sent 
 out to the various civil and military officers in all disen- 
 thralled counties in the State, — which, alasl when com- 
 pared with the whole, are very few, — to ask for their 
 superfluities. All will answer promptly, I know, and gen- 
 erously. 
 
 Since I last wrote in my diary, our Essex friends have 
 again most liberally replenished our larder, just as they did 
 
334 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 this time last year — if possible, more geDerously. The Lord 
 reward them ! 
 
 March 10. — Still we go on as heretofore, hoping and 
 praying that Richmond may be safe. Before Mr. Hunter 
 (Hon. R. M. T.) left Richmond, I watched his countenance 
 whenever I heard the subject mentioned before him, and 
 though he said nothing, I thought he looked sad. I know 
 that he understands the situation of affairs perfectly, and I 
 may have fancied the sad look, but I think not; and when- 
 ever it arises before my mind's eye, it makes me unhappy. I 
 imagine, too, from a conversation which I had with Mr. Sec- 
 retary Mallory, that he fears much for Richmond. Though 
 it was an unexpressed opinion, yet I fear that I understood 
 it rightly. I know that we ought to feel that whatever 
 General Lee and the President deem right for the cause 
 must be right, and that we should be satisfied that all will 
 be well ; but it would almost break my heart to see this 
 dear old city, with its hallowed associations, given over to the 
 Federals. Fearful orders have been given in the offices to 
 keep the papers packed, except such as we are working on. 
 The packed boxes remain in the front room, as if uncer- 
 tainty still existed about moving them. As we walk in 
 every morning, all eyes are turned to the boxes to see if any 
 have been removed, and we breathe more freely when we 
 find them still there. 
 
 To-day I have spent in the hospital, and was very much 
 interested in our old Irishman. He has been there for 
 more than two years; first as a patient sent from Drnry's 
 Bluff, with ague and fever. Though apparently long 
 past the military age, he had enlisted as a soldier in a 
 Georgia regiment, but it was soon discovered that he was 
 physically unable to stand camp-life; he was therefore 
 
march, 1865. 335 
 
 detailed to work in the gardens, which supplied the soldiers 
 at the Bluff with vegetables. He got well, and returned to 
 his post, but was soon sent back again, too sick for service. 
 The climate did not suit him, and when he again recovered 
 Miss T. employed him as gardener and marketman to her 
 hospital. We all became interested in him, because of his 
 quiet, subdued manner, faithfulness to his duty, and respect- 
 ful bearing. Some months ago his health began to decline, 
 and day after day he has been watched and cared for by 
 the surgeon and ladies with deep interest; but he steadily 
 declines in strength, and is now confined to his eot, and it is 
 but too evident that his end is approaching. We had all 
 remarked that he never alluded to his early history, and 
 was singularly reserved with regard to his religious faith ; 
 yet, as long as he was able to go out, he might be seen 
 every Sunday seated alone in a corner of the gallery of St. 
 James's Church. This evening, as I was walking around 
 the room in which he lies, and had just administered to 
 him some nourishment, he said to me : " When you get 
 through with the men won't you come back and let me talk 
 to ye 1" When I returned and took my seat by him, he 
 
 looked earnestly in my face, and said : " Mrs. , you 
 
 . have an Irish name — have you friends there ? " " No, my 
 husband's grandfather was from Ireland, but we have no 
 relatives there now." " Yes," was his reply, " it is a good 
 name in Ireland, and you have been kind to me, and I 
 want to talk to you a bit before I die. You know that 
 I am a Protestant, and I have been constantly to Mr 
 Peterkin's church since I came here, because I like the 
 church, and I like him; and I hope that now I am 
 prepared to die. But I was not brought up an Episco- 
 palian in the old country — our house was divided, like. 
 
336 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 My father was a Catholic, and my mother was a Pres- 
 byterian ; neither went to the church of the other, 
 but they were a loving couple for all that. He said 
 to her, when we were but wee things : 'Mary,' said 
 he, ' the children must go to your church sometimes, and to 
 mine sometimes; you may teach them the Bible; but when 
 they are old enough, they must judge for themselves.' 
 And so it was ; we were obliged every Sunday to go to 
 one church or the other, but we determined for ourselves. I 
 most always went with mother, because she was so good and 
 gentle, and I loved her so much. We grew up a cheerful, 
 happy family. My father was a gardener, three-quarters of a 
 mile from Londonderry; he had a good little farm, and sold 
 his fruit and vegetables in Derry, and had made a great deal 
 of money ; and we had a good house, and were so comfortable. 
 We all went to school, and kept on so until I, the eldest 
 child, was grown. In the neighbourhood was a man that 
 my father hated. Oh, how he hated that man ! But I loved 
 that man's daughter ; with my whole heart I loved that 
 girl." 
 
 Here his voice became excited, his eyes were suffused with 
 tears, and his emaciated, pock-marked face almost glowed 
 with animation. The room had become still ; the sick and 
 wounded and visitors to the room were all listening with 
 deep attention to the old man's story. " I knew,'' he con- 
 tinued, " that my father would see me dead before he would 
 agree to my marrying into that family, and he was a stern 
 man, and I was afraid to let him know; and I tried to get 
 over my love ; but I saw her whenever I went to church, 
 and at last I told her that I loved her, and she said she 
 
 would marry me, and then, Mrs. ," he said with energy, 
 
 " no mortal man could have made me give her up. After 
 
march, 1865. 337 
 
 awhile my father said to me, 'Johnny,' said he, ' you are of age, 
 and must work for yourself now ; I will give you ten acres of 
 my farm; begin early in spring, break it up, and make a gar- 
 den; in a few years you will be an independent man.' Said 
 I, 'Father, may I put a house on it V ' No, my son; when 
 I die you will have this house ; can't you live now with 
 your mother and me ?' ' But, father,' said I, ' suppose I get 
 married, where can I live then ?' ' If I like the match,' 
 said he, ' you may live here.' I said no more then, but I 
 saw Mary Dare,' (he added, in a subdued voice, ' her name 
 was Mary Dare,) and I told her I would try my father 
 again, and if he would not agree to what I said, I would 
 go to America, and make a home for her. She was dis- 
 tressed, and I was in misery. Towards the spring my 
 father said to me every now and then, ' Johnny, why don't 
 you break up your ground ? I have seeds for ye ; it is time 
 to begin.' But I could not begin ; and I could not tell him 
 why, I had such a dread of him. At last he said, 'Johnny, 
 yoa are behindhand ; why don't you go to work V I knew 
 from his look that I must speak now, and my mother looked 
 <to tender-like into my face, that I said, ' Father, I can't 
 live here, unless I can bring my wife here, or build a house 
 for her. I am going to marry Mary Dare, and if you ob- 
 ject to it, I will go to America.' My father looked 
 sternly at me, and said, ' I will not have you in my house 
 or on my land, if you marry that girl ; think about it ; if 
 you will give her up, you may live here and be well off ; if 
 not, you can go to America at once, and I will bear your 
 expenses. Let me know to-morrow morning.' My mother 
 looked heart-broken, but she did not speak. She never op- 
 posed my father. This was Sunday. Next morning he asked 
 me if I had made up my mind. I said, ' Yes, sir ; to go to 
 
 15 
 
338 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 America.' ' Then, Johnny, on Wednesday morning I will 
 go to Derry and get you ready.' On Wednesday he called 
 me to get his pony, and to walk to town, and meet him at 
 a tailor's. He was there before me, and selected cloth to 
 make me two good suits of clothes. We then went to a 
 draper's and got linen (for we wear linen in Ireland, not 
 cotton) to make me twelve shirts, and other clothes besides. 
 Then we went to the packet office, where we were told that 
 a packet would sail on that day week for Liverpool, to meet 
 an emigrant ship just ready to sail for New York. He paid 
 my passage without saying a word to me, though his man- 
 ner was kind to me all the time. As we turned to go home 
 he said, ' I have four pounds to give you for pocket-money, 
 and I shall deposit fifty pouuds in New York for you, 
 which you can draw if you are in want ; but I advise you 
 not to draw it unless you are in want, for it is all I shall 
 give you.' When we got home my mother collected her 
 friends and neighbours to make my clothes. She and 
 my sisters looked sorry enough, but not a word did they say 
 about it. I knew that my father had told them not to do 
 it, and my heart was too full to speak to anybody except 
 to Mary Dare — she knew that as soon as I could come for 
 her that I would come. When I took leave of my mother 
 she almost died, like. I told her, ' Mother,' said I, ' I am 
 coming back when I am independent, and can do as I 
 please. Write to me, mother dear ; I will write to you 
 and my sisters when I get to New York, and tell you where 
 I am ;' and I did write to Mary and to my mother. I could 
 not write to my father ; I could not forgive him, when I 
 thought how he had grieved Mary and me ; and I could not 
 be deceitful. As soon as I got to New York, I engaged 
 with a gentleman at Williamsburg, on Long Island, to work 
 
MARCH, I860. 339 
 
 his garden. For two years I worked, and laid up my 
 wages ; and not a single letter came for me. I grieved and 
 sorrowed, and thought about Mary — I thought maybe her 
 letters were stopped by somebody. I knew she would not 
 forget me. Sometimes I thought I would go home to Ire- 
 land, and see what was the matter. At last, one day, my 
 employer came into the garden with a newspaper in his 
 hand. 'Mr. Crumley,' says he, 'here is something for 
 you;' and sure enough there was a line to John Crumley, 
 asking me to meet an old friend that had just come from 
 Derry. I could not work another stroke, but went to the 
 city, and there he was. I asked him first about my mother. 
 ' All well ; I have a letter from her to you.' ' And haven't 
 you another letter? Didn't Mary Dare write to me?' 
 'Mary Dare!' he said; 'don't you know that Mary Dare 
 died soon after you left the old country ?' " The old man 
 stopped a moment to recover himself. Then, striking the side 
 of his cot with his hard, sunburnt hand, he added, " Yes, 
 she was dead, and I was then left the lone man that you see 
 
 me now, Mrs. . My mother had not written before, 
 
 because she hated to distress me, but she wrote to beg that 
 I would come home ; my father's health was failing, and he 
 wanted me, his first-born, to come and take the homestead. 
 But Ireland and home were nothing to me now. I wrote 
 to her that. my nest brother must take the homestead, and 
 take care of my father and her, God bless her ! I should 
 never see Ireland again, but I loved her and my sisters all 
 the same. The next letter was long after that. My mother 
 wrote, ' Your father is dead ; come back, Johnny, and 
 take your own home.' I could not go ; and then I went to 
 Georgia, and never heard from home again. I tried to 
 fight for the South, because the Southern people were good 
 
340 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 to me, and I thought if I got killed there was nobody to 
 care for me." 
 
 His story was done. He looked at me, and said, "You 
 have all been so good to me, particularly Miss T. God bless 
 you all for it ! I am now almost at my journey's end." 
 When I looked up I found the men subdued and sorrowful. 
 The story, and the weak, sad tones with which it was told, 
 had touched them all, and brought tears from some. 
 
 11th. — Sheridan's raid through the country is perfectly 
 awful, and he has joined Grant, without being caught. Oh, 
 how we listened to hear that he had been arrested in his 
 direful career ! It was, I suppose, the most cruel and des- 
 olating raid upon record — more lawless, if possible, than 
 Hunter's. He had an overwhelming force, spreading ruin 
 through the "Upper Yalley, the Piedmont country, the 
 tide-water country, until he reached Grant. His soldiers 
 ■were allowed to commit any cruelty on non-combatants 
 that suited their rapacious tempers — stealing every thing 
 they could find; ear-riugs, breastpins, and finger-rings were 
 taken from the first ladies of the land; nothing escaped 
 them which was worth carrying off from the already des- 
 olated country. And can we feel patient at the idea of such 
 soldiers coming to Richmond, the target at which their 
 whole nation, from their President to the meanest soldier 
 upon their army-rolls, has been aiming for four years ? 
 Oh, I would that I could see Richmond burnt to the ground 
 by its own people, with not one brick left upon another, 
 before its defenceless inhabitants should be subjected to 
 such degradation! 
 
 Fighting is still going on ; so near the city, that the 
 sound of cannon is ever in our ears. Farmers are send- 
 ing in produce which they cannot spare, but which they 
 
makch, 1865. 341 
 
 give with a spirit of self-deuial rarely equalled. Ladies are 
 offering their jewelry, their plate, any thing which can be 
 converted into money, for the country. I have heard some 
 of them declare, that, if necessary, they will cut off their long 
 suits of hair, and send them to Paris to be sold for bread 
 for the soldiers; and there is not a woman, worthy of the 
 name of Southerner, who would not do it, if we could get 
 it out of the country, and bread or meat in return. Some 
 gentlemen are giving up their watches, when every thing 
 else has been given. A colonel of our army was seen the 
 other night, after a stirring appeal had been made for food 
 for the soldiers, to approach the speaker's stand with his 
 watch in his hand, saying: "I have no money, nor provisions; 
 my property was ruined by Hunter's raid last summer; my 
 watch is very dear to me from association, but it must be 
 sold for bread." Remembering, as he put it down, that it 
 had been long worn by his wife, now dead, though not a 
 man who liked or approved of scenes, he obeyed the affec- 
 tionate impulse of his heart, took it up quickly, kissed it, 
 and replaced it on the table. 
 
 12th. — A deep gloom has just been thrown over the city 
 by the untimely death of one of its own heroic sons. General 
 John Pegram fell while nobly leading his brigade against 
 the enemy in the neighbourhood of Petersburg. But two 
 weeks before he had been married in St. Paul's Church, in 
 the presence of a crowd of relatives and friends, to the cele- 
 brated Miss H. C, of Baltimore. All was bright and beau- 
 tiful. Happiness beamed from every eye. Again has St. 
 Paul's, his own beloved church, been opened to receive the 
 soldier and his bride — the one coffined for a hero's grave, 
 the other, pale and trembling, though still by his side, in 
 widow's garb. 
 
342 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 3lst. — A long pause in my diary. Every thing seems 
 so dark and uncertain that I have no heart for keep- 
 ing records. The croakers croak about Richmond being 
 evacuated, but I can't and won't believe it. 
 
 There is hard fighting about Petersburg, and General A. 
 P. Hill has been killed. Dreadful to think of losing such 
 a man at such a time; but yet it comes nearer home when 
 we hear of the young soldiers whom we have loved, and 
 whose youth we have watched with anxiety and hope as 
 those on whom our country must depend in days to come, 
 being cut down when their country most needs them. We 
 have just heard of the death of Barksdale Warwick, another 
 of our E. H. S. boys — another son of the parents who 
 yielded up their noble first-born son on the field of battle 
 three years ago. He fell a day or two ago; I did not hear 
 precisely when or where; I only know that he has passed 
 away, as myriads of our young countrymen have done before 
 him, and in the way in which our men would prefer to die. 
 
 A week ago we made a furious attack upon the enemy's 
 fortifications near Petersburg, and several were taken before 
 daylight, but we could not hold them against overwhelming 
 numbers, and batteries vastly too strong for any thing we 
 could command; and so it is still — the enemy is far too 
 strong in numbers and military resources. The Lord save 
 us, or we perish 1 Many persons think that Richmond is in 
 the greatest possible danger, and may be evacuated at any 
 time. Perhaps we are apathetic or too hopeful, but none 
 of us are desponding at all, and I find myself planning for 
 the future, and feeling excessively annoyed when I find per- 
 sons less sanguine than myself. 
 
 April 3. — Agitated and nervous, I turn to my diary 
 to-night as the means of soothing my feelings. We have 
 
april, 1865. 34:3 
 
 passed through a fatal th ; ,rty-six hours. Yesterday morn- 
 ing (it seems a week ago) we went, as usual, to St. James's 
 Church, hoping for a day of peace and quietness, as well as 
 of religious improvement and enjoyment. How short-sighted 
 we are, and how little do we know of what is coming, either 
 of judgment or mercy! The sermon being over, as it was 
 the first Sunday in the month, the sacrament of the Lord's 
 Supper was administered. The day was bright, beautiful, 
 and peaceful, and a general quietness and repose seemed to 
 rest upon the congregation, undisturbed by rumours and 
 apprehensions. While the sacred elements were being ad- 
 ministered, the sexton came in with a note to General 
 Cooper, which was handed him as he walked from the chancel, 
 and he immediately left the church. It made me anxious; 
 but such things are not uncommon, and caused no excite- 
 ment in the congregation. The services being over, we left 
 the church, and as the congregations from the various 
 churches were being mingled on Grace Street, our children, 
 who had been at St. Paul's, joined us, on their way to the 
 usual family gathering in our room on Sunday. After the 
 salutations of the morning, J. remarked, in an agitated voice, 
 to his father, that he had just returned from the War 
 Department, and that there was sad news — General Lee's 
 lines had been broken, and the city would probably 
 be evacuated within twenty-four hours. Not until then did 
 I observe that every countenance was wild with excitement. 
 The inquiry, " What is the matter ?" ran from lip to lip. 
 Nobody seemed to hear or to answer. An old friend ran 
 across the street, pale with excitement, repeating what 
 J. had just told us, that unless we heard better news 
 from General Lee the city would be evacuated. We could 
 do nothing; no one suggested any thing to be done. We 
 
344 DIARY OP A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 reached home with a strange, unrealizing feeling. In an 
 hour J. (who is now Professor of Mathematics in the 
 Naval School) received orders to accompany Captain Parker 
 to the South with the Corps of Midshipmen. Then we 
 began to understand that the Government was moving, and 
 that the evacuation was indeed going on. The office-hold- 
 ers were now making arrangements to get off. Every car 
 was ordered to be ready to take them south. Baggage- 
 wagons, carts, drays, and ambulances were driving about 
 the streets; every one was going off that could go, and 
 now there were all the indications of alarm and excitement 
 of every kind which could attend such an awful scene. The 
 people were rushing up and down the streets, vehicles of all 
 kinds were flying along, bearing goods of all sorts and people 
 of all ages and classes who could go beyond the corporation 
 lines. We tried to keep ourselves quiet. We could not 
 go south, nor could we leave the city at all in this hurried 
 way. J. and his wife had gone. The "Colonel," with 
 B., intended going in the northern train this morning — 
 he to his home in Hanover County, and she to her father's 
 house in Clarke County, as soon as she could get there. 
 Last night, when we went out to hire a servant to go to 
 Camp Jackson for our sister, we for the first time realized 
 that our money was worthless here, and that we are in fact 
 penniless. About midnight she walked in, escorted by two of 
 the convalescent soldiers. Poor fellows ! all the soldiers will 
 go who can, but the sick and wounded must be captured. 
 We collected in one room, and tried to comfort one another; 
 we made large pockets and filled them with as many of our val- 
 uables as we could suspend from our waists. The geutlemen 
 walked down to the War Office in the night to see what was 
 going on. Alas I every sight and sound was grievous and heavy. 
 
APRIL, 1865. 345 
 
 A telegram just received from General Lee hastened the 
 evacuation. The public offices were all forsaken. They said 
 that by three o'clock in the morning the work must be com- 
 pleted, and the city ready for the enemy to take possession. 
 Oh, who shall tell the horror of the past night I Hope seemed 
 to fade ; none but despairing words were heard, except from 
 a few brave hearts. Union men began to show themselves; 
 treason walked abroad. A gloomy pall seemed to hang 
 over ns; but I do not think that any of us felt keenly, or 
 have yet realized our overwhelming calamity. The sudden- 
 ness and extent of it is too great for us to feel its poignancy 
 at once. About two o'clock in the morning we were 
 startled by a loud sound like thunder; the house shook 
 and the windows rattled; it seemed like an earthquake in 
 our midst. We knew not what it was, nor did we care. 
 It was soon understood to be the blowing up of a magazine 
 below the city. In a few hours another exploded on the 
 outskirts of the city, much louder than the first, and shiver- 
 ing innumerable plate-glass windows all over Shockoe Hill. 
 It was then daylight, and we were standing out upon the 
 pavement. The Colonel and B. had just gone. Shall we 
 ever meet again ? Many ladies were now upon the streets. 
 The lower part of the city was burning. About seven 
 o'clock I set off to go to the central depot to see if the cars 
 would go out. As I went from Franklin to Broad Street, 
 and on Broad, the pavements were covered with broken 
 glass; women, both white and coloured, were walking in 
 multitudes from the Commissary offices and burning stores 
 with bags of flour, meal, coffee, sugar, rolls of cotton cloth, 
 etc.; coloured men were rolling wheelbarrows filled in the 
 same way. I went on and on towards the depot, and as 
 I proceeded shouts and screams became louder. The rabble 
 15* 
 
346 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 rushed by me in one stream. At last I exclaimed, " Who 
 are those shouting? "What is the matter ?" I seemed to be 
 answered by a hundred voices, " The Yankees have come." 
 I turned to come home, but what was my horror, when I 
 reached Ninth Street, to see a regiment of Yankee cavalry 
 come dashing up, yelling, shouting, hallooing, screaming ! 
 All Bedlam let loose could not have vied with them in 
 diabolical roarings. I stood riveted to the spot; I could 
 not move nor speak. Then I saw the iron gates of our 
 time-honoured and beautiful Capitol Square, on the walks and 
 greensward of which no hoof had been allowed to tread, 
 thrown open and the cavalry dash in. I coald see no more; 
 I must go on with a mighty effort, or faint where I stood. 
 I came home amid what I thought was the firing of cannon. 
 I thought that they were thundering forth a salute that 
 they had reached the goal of their ardent desires; but I 
 afterwards found that the Armory was on fire, and that the 
 flames having reached the shells deposited there for our 
 army, they were exploding. These explosions were kept 
 up until a late hour this evening; I am rejoiced they are 
 gone; they, at least, can never be turned against us. I 
 found the family collected around the breakfast-table, and 
 was glad to see Captain M's family with them. The 
 captain has gone, and the ladies have left their home on 
 " Union Hill " to stay here among friends, Colonel P. hav- 
 ing kindly given them rooms. An hour or two after break- 
 fast we all retired to our rooms exhausted. No one had 
 slept; no one had sought repose or thought of their own 
 comfort. The Federal soldiers were roaming about the 
 streets; either whiskey or the excess of joy had given some 
 of them the appearance of being beside themselves. We 
 had hoped that very little whiskey would be found in the 
 
apeil, 1865. 347 
 
 city, as, by order of the Mayor, casks were emptied yesterday 
 evening in the streets, and it flowed like water through the 
 gutters; but the rabble had managed to find it secreted in 
 the burning shops, and bore it away in pitchers and buckets. 
 It soon became evident that protection would be necessary 
 for the residences, and at the request of Colonel P. I went 
 to the Provost Marshal's office to ask for it. Mrs. P. was 
 unfortunately in the country, and only ladies were allowed 
 to apply for guards. Of course this was a very unpleasant 
 duty, but I must undertake it. Mrs. D. agreed to accom- 
 pany me, and we proceeded to the City Hall — the City 
 Hall, which from my childhood I had regarded with respect 
 and reverence, as the place where my father had for years 
 held his courts, and in which our lawyers, whose names 
 stand among the highest in the Temple of Fame, for fifty 
 years expounded the Constitution and the laws, which must 
 now be trodden under foot. We reached it. After pass- 
 ing through crowds of negro soldiers there, we found on 
 the steps some of the elderly gentlemen of the city seeking 
 admittance, which was denied them. I stopped to speak 
 
 to Mr. , in whose commission house I was two days 
 
 ago, and saw him surrounded by all the stores which usually 
 make up the establishment of such a merchant; it was now 
 a mass of blackened ruins. He had come to ask protection 
 for his residence, but was not allowed to enter. We passed 
 the sentinel, and an officer escorted us to the room in which 
 we were to ask our country's foe to allow us to remain 
 undisturbed in our own houses. Mrs. D. leant on me 
 tremblingly; she shrank from the humiliating duty. For 
 my own part, though my heart beat loudly and my blood 
 boiled, I never felt more high-spirited or lofty than at that 
 moment. A large table was surrounded by officials, writing 
 
348 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 or talking to the ladies, who came on the same mission 
 that brought us. I approached the officer who sat at the 
 head of the table, and asked him politely if he was the 
 Provost Marshal. " I am the Commandant, madam," was 
 the respectful reply. " Then to whom am I to apply for 
 -protection for our residence 1" " You need none, madam; 
 our troops are perfectly disciplined, and dare not enter your 
 premises." " I am sorry to be obliged to undeceive you, 
 sir, but when I left home seven of your soldiers were in the 
 yard of the residence opposite to us, and one has already 
 been into our^ kitchen." He looked surprised, and said, 
 " Then, madam, you are entitled to a guard. Captain, 
 write a protection for the residence on the corner of First 
 and Franklin Streets, and give these ladies a guard." This 
 was quickly done, and as I turned to go out, I saw standing 
 
 near me our old friend, Mrs. . Oh ! how my heart sank 
 
 when I looked into her calm, sad face, and remembered that 
 she and her venerable and highly esteemed husband must 
 ask leave to remain in peace in their home of many years. 
 The next person who attracted my attention was that 
 sweet young girl, S. W. Having no mother, she of course 
 must go and ask that her father's beautiful mansion may 
 be allowed to stand uninjured. Tears rolled down her 
 cheeks as she pressed my hand in passing. Other friends 
 were there; we did not speak, we could not; we sadly 
 looked at each other and passed on. Mrs. D. and myself 
 came out, accompanied by our guard. The fire was pro- 
 gressing rapidly, and the crashing sound of falling timbers • 
 was distinctly heard. Dr. Read's church was blazing. 
 Yankees, citizens, and negroes were attempting to arrest 
 the flames. The War Department was falling in; burning 
 papers were being wafted about the streets. The Commis- 
 
apeil, 1865. 349 
 
 sary Department, with our desks and papers, was consumed 
 already. Warwick & Barksdale's mill was sending its 
 flames to the sky. Cary and Main Streets seemed doomed 
 throughout ; Bank Street was beginning to burn, and now 
 it had reached Franklin. At any other moment it would 
 have distracted me, but I had ceased to feel any thing. 
 We brought our guard to Colonel P., who posted him; 
 about three o'clock he came to tell me that the guard was 
 drunk, and threatening to shoot the servants in the yard. 
 Again I went to the City Hall to procure another. I 
 approached the Commandant and told him why I came. 
 He immediately ordered another guard, and a corporal to 
 be sent for the arrest of the drunken man. The flames had 
 decreased, but the business part of the city was in ruins. 
 The second guard was soon posted, and the first carried 
 off by the collar. Almost every house is guarded; and the 
 streets are now (ten o'clock) perfectly quiet. The moon is 
 shining brightly on our captivity. God guide and watch 
 over us ! 
 
 April 5. — I feel as if we were groping in the dark; no 
 one knows what to do. The Yankees, so far, have behaved 
 humanely. As usual, they begin with professions of kind- 
 ness to those whom they have ruined without justifiable 
 cause, without reasonable motive, without right to be here, 
 or anywhere else within the Southern boundary. General 
 Ord is said to be polite and gentlemanly, and seems to do 
 every thing in his power to lessen the horrors of this dire 
 calamity. Other officers are kind in their departments, and 
 the negro regiments look quite subdued. No one can tell 
 how long this will last. Norfolk had its day of grace, 
 and even New Orleans was not down-trodden at once. 
 There are already apprehensions of evil. Is the Church to 
 
350 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 pray for the Northern President ? How is it possible, 
 except as we pray for all other sinners ? But I pause for 
 further developments. 
 
 6th. — Mr. Lincoln has visited our devoted city to-day. 
 His reception was any thing but complimentary. Our people 
 were in nothing rude or disrespectful; they only kept them- 
 selves away from a scene so painful. There are very few 
 Unionists of the least respectability here ; these met them (he 
 was attended by Stanton and others) with cringing loyalty, 
 I hear, but the rest of the small collection were of the low, 
 lower, lowest of creation. They drove through several 
 streets, but the greeting was so feeble from the motley 
 crew of vulgar men and women, that the Federal officers 
 themselves, I suppose, were ashamed of ic, for they very 
 soon escaped from the disgraceful association. It is said 
 that they took a collation at General Ord's — our President's 
 house!! Ah! it is a bitter pill. I would that dear old 
 house, with all its associations, so sacred to the Southerners, 
 so sweet to us as a family, had shared in the general con- 
 flagration. Then its history would have been unsullied, 
 though sad. Oh, how gladly would I have seen it burn ! 
 I have been nowhere since Monday, except to see my dear 
 old friend Mrs. R., and to the hospital. There I am not 
 much subjected to the harrowing sights and sounds by which 
 we are surrounded. The wounded must be nursed ; poor 
 fellows, they are so sorrowful! Our poor old Irishman died 
 on Sunday. The son of a very old acquaintance was 
 brought to our hospital a few days ago, most severely 
 wounded — Colonel Charles Richardson, of the artillery. 
 We feared at first that he must die, but now there is a 
 little more hope. It is so sad that after four years of 
 bravery and devotion to the cause, he should be brought to 
 
April, 1865. 351 
 
 his native city, for the defence of which he would have 
 gladly given his life, dangerously if not mortally wounded, 
 when its sad fate is just decided. I love to sit by his bed- 
 side and try to cheer him; his friends seem to vie with each 
 other in kind attentions to him. 
 
 We hear rumours of battles, and of victories gained by 
 our troops, but we have no certain information beyond the 
 city lines. 
 
 10 ili. — Another gloomy Sabbath-day and harrowing 
 night. We went to St. Paul's in the morning, and heard a 
 very fine sermon from Dr. Minnegerode — at least so said 
 ray companions. My attention, which is generally riveted 
 by his sermons, wandered continually. I could not listen; 
 I felt so strangely, as if in a vivid, horrible dream. Neither 
 President was prayed for; in compliance with some arrange- 
 ment with the Federal authorities, the prayer was used as 
 for all in authority ! How fervently did we all pray for our 
 own President ! Thank God, our silent prayers are free 
 from Federal authority. " The oppressor keeps the body 
 bound, but knows not what a range the spirit takes." Last 
 night, (it seems strange that we have lived to speak or 
 write of it,) between nine and ten o'clock, as some of the 
 ladies of the house were collected in our room, we were 
 startled by the rapid firing of cannon. At first we 
 thought that there must be an attack upon the city;' bright 
 thoughts of the return of our army darted through my brain; 
 but the firing was to'o regular. We began to think it must 
 be a salute for some great event. We threw up the 
 windows, and saw the flashes and smoke of cannon towards 
 Camp Jackson. Some one present counted one hundred 
 guns. What could it be ? We called to passers-by : " What 
 do those guns mean ?" Sad voices answered several times : 
 
352 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 " I do not know." At last a voice pertly, wickedly replied: 
 " General Lee has surrendered, thank God! " Of course we 
 did not believe him, though the very sound was a knell. 
 Again we called out : " What is the matter ? " A voice 
 answered, as if from a broken heart : " They say General 
 Lee has surrendered." We cannot believe it, but my heart 
 became dull and heavy, and every nerve and muscle of my 
 frame seems heavy too. I cannot even now shake it off. 
 We passed the night, I cannot tell how — I know not how 
 we live at all. At daybreak the dreadful salute com- 
 menced again. Another hundred guns at twelve to-day. 
 Another hundred — can it be so ? No, we do not believe it, 
 but how can we bear such a doubt ? Where are all our 
 dear ones, our beloved soldiers, and our noble chief to-night, 
 while the rain falls pitilessly ? Are they lying on the cold, 
 hard ground, sleeping for sorrow ? or are they moving 
 southward triumphantly, to join General Johnston, still 
 able and willing — ah, far more than willing — to avenge 
 their country's wrongs ? God help us ! — we must take refuge 
 in unbelief. 
 
 Tuesday Night. — -No light on our sorrow — still gloomy, 
 dark, and uncertain. 
 
 I went to-day to the hospital, as was my duty. My dear 
 friend S. T. cheers me, by being utterly incredulous about 
 the reported surrender. As usual, she is cheerfully devoting 
 her powers of mind and body to her hospital. For four 
 years she has never thought of her own comfort, when by 
 sacrificing it she could alleviate a soldier's sorrow. Miss 
 E. D., who has shared with her every duty, every self-sacri- 
 ficing effort in behalf of our sick and wounded soldiers, is now 
 enduring the keenest pangs of sorrow from the untimely 
 death of her venerable father. On the day of the evacua- 
 
apeil, 1865. 353 
 
 tion, while walking too near a burning house, he was struck 
 by a piece of falling timber, and the blow soon closed his 
 long life. Alas 1 the devoted daughter, who had done so 
 much for other wounded, could do nothing for the restora- 
 tion of one so dear to her. 
 
 Wednesday Night. — We have heard nothing new to-day 
 confirming the report of the surrender, which is perhaps 
 the reason my spirit feels a little more light. We must 
 hope, though our prospects should be as dark as the 
 sky of this stormy night. Our wounded are doing well — 
 those who remain in our hospital and the convalescents 
 have been ordered to " Camp Jackson." Indeed, all the 
 patients were included in the same order; but Miss T. havhg 
 represented that several of them were not in a condition to 
 be removed, they have been allowed to remain where they 
 are. 
 
 Colonel R. is improving, for which we are most thankful. 
 
 Thursday Night. — Fearful rumours are reaching us from 
 sources which it is hard to doubt, that it is all too true, and 
 that General Lee surrendered on Sunday last, the 9th of 
 April. The news came to the enemy by telegram daring 
 the day, and to us at night by the hoarse and pitiless voice 
 of the cannon. We know, of course, that circumstances 
 forced it upon our great commander and his gallant army. 
 How all this happened — how Grant's hundreds of thou- 
 sands overcame our little band, history, not I, must 
 tell my children's children. It is enough for me to 
 tell them that all that bravery and self-denial could do 
 has been done. We do not yet give up all hope. 
 General Johnston is in the field, but there are thou- 
 sands of the enemy to his tens. The citizens are quiet. 
 The calmness of despair is written on every countenance. 
 
351 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 Private sorrows are now corning upon us. We know of but 
 few casualties. 
 
 Good-Friday. — As usual, I went to the hospital, and 
 found Miss T. in much trouble. A peremptory order has 
 been given by the Surgeon-General to remove all patients. 
 In the opinion of our surgeon, to five of them it would be 
 certain death. The ambulances were at the door. Miss T. 
 and myself decided to go at once to the Medical Director 
 and ask him to recall the order. We were conducted to 
 his office, and, for the first time since the entrance of the 
 Federal army, were impolitely treated. On two occasions 
 we had been obliged to make application to officials, and 
 had been received with great respect and consideration, and 
 we believe it has been uniformly the case ; and we were, 
 therefore, very much surprised when a request which seem- 
 ed to us so reasonable was at first refused most decidedly. 
 We could not give up our application, as it seemed to be 
 a matter of life and death ; so we told him what our sur- 
 geon had said, and that we hoped he would reconsider his 
 order. He replied, that he should send a surgeon with the 
 ambulances, and if in his judgment they could be removed, 
 it should be done without hesitation, as he was determined 
 to break up the small hospitals which you have all about 
 town, (ours is the only small hospital in town,) and that he 
 had ordered neither rations nor medicines to be issued to 
 them. Miss T. told him that nothing of the sort was ne- 
 cessary ; she had never asked nor received rations from the 
 Federal Government; that she had now but five men under 
 her care, and they were desperately wounded, and she would 
 greatly prefer that the hospital should be considered in the 
 light of a private establishment, which we could take care 
 of without asking help. A change came over his counte- 
 
April, 1S65. 355 
 
 nance, but not his manner ; he brusquely told us that he 
 would " see about it." In an hour afterwards the surgeon 
 and the ambulance came, but after what seemed to me 
 rather a pompous display of surgical examination and learn- 
 ed medical terms, addressed to the lady-nurses, he deter- 
 mined to leave our dear mangled soldiers to our care. One 
 - of them is in a d} r ing condition ; he cannot survive many 
 hours. 
 
 We had no service in our churches to-day. An order 
 came out in this morning's papers that the prayers for the 
 President of the United States must be used. How could 
 
 we do it ? Mr. went to the hospital by the request 
 
 of Colonel Richardson, and had prayers in his room. Am- 
 bulances are constantly passing with horses in the finest 
 possible condition — even finer than ours were in the begin- 
 ning of the war. It seems to me passing strange that, with 
 all their advantages, we kept them at bay so long, and con- 
 quered them so often. Had one port been left open to us — 
 only one, by which we might have received food and cloth- 
 ing — Richmond would not now be in their hands ; our men 
 were starved into submission. 
 
 Sunday Night. — The Episcopal churches being closed, we 
 went to the Rev. Dr. Hoge's church. The rector was ab- 
 sent ; he went off, to be in Confederate lines ; but the Rev. 
 Dr. Read, whose church is in ruins, occupied the pulpit. 
 
 StraDge rumours are afloat to-night. It is said, and be- 
 lieved, that Lincoln is dead, and Seward much injured. 
 As I passed the house of a friend this evening, she raised 
 the window aud told me the report. Of course I treated 
 it as a Sunday rumour ; but the story is strengthened by the 
 way which the Yankees treat it. They, of course, know 
 all about it, and to-morrow's papers will reveal the partic- 
 
356 DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 ulars. I trust that, if true, it may not be by the hand of 
 an assassin, though it would seem to fulfil the warnings of 
 Scripture. His efforts to carry out his abolition theories 
 have caused the shedding of oceans of Southern blood, 
 and by man it now seems has his blood been shed. But 
 what effect will it have on the South ? We may have much 
 to fear. Future events will show. This event has made 
 us wild with excitement and spesulation. 
 
 General Lee has returned. He came unattended,- save 
 by his staff — came without notice, and without parade ; 
 but he could not come unobserved ; as soon as his approach 
 was whispered, a crowd gathered in his path, not bois- 
 terously, but respectfully, and increasing rapidly as he ad- 
 vanced to his home on Franklin Street, between 8th and 
 9 th, where, with a courtly bow to the multitude, he at once 
 retired to the bosom of his beloved family. "When I called 
 in to see his high-minded and patriotic wife, a day or two 
 after the evacuation, she was busily engaged in her invalid's 
 chair, and very cheerful and hopeful. " The end is not 
 yet," she said, as if to cheer those around her ; "Rich- 
 mond is not the Confederacy.'' To this we all most willing- 
 ly assented, and felt very much gratified and buoyed by 
 her brightness. I have not had the heart to visit her 
 since the surrender, but hear that she still is sanguine, say- 
 ing that " General Lee is not the Confederacy," and that 
 there is " life in the old land yet." He is not the Confed- 
 eracy ; but our hearts sink within us when we remember 
 that he and his noble army are now idle, and that we can 
 no longer look upon them as the bulwark of our land. He 
 has returned from defeat and disaster with the universal 
 and profound admiration of the world, having done all that 
 skill and valour could accomplish. The scenes at the sur- 
 
apeil, 1865. 357 
 
 ^render were noble and touching. General Grant's bearing 
 was profoundly respectful ; General Lee's as courtly and 
 lofty as the purest chivalry could require. The terms, so 
 honourable to all parties, being complied with to the letter, 
 our arms were laid down with breaking hearts, and tears 
 such as stoutest warriors may shed. " Woe worth the 
 day ! " 
 
 Tuesday Night. — I try to dwell as little as possible on 
 public events. I only feel that we have no country, no 
 government, no future. I cannot, like some others, look 
 with hope on Johnston's army. He will do what he can; but 
 ah, what can he do ? Our anxiety now is that our President 
 and other public men may get off in safety. God ! have 
 mercy upon them and help them ! For ourselves, like the 
 rest of the refugees, we are striving to get from the city. The 
 stereotyped question when we meet is, "When and where 
 are you going 1" Our country relatives have been very 
 kind. My brother offers us an asylum in his devastated 
 home at W. While there we must look around for 
 some other place, in which to build up a home for our de- 
 clining years. Property we have none — all gone. Thank 
 G-od, we have our faculties ; the girls and myself, at least, 
 
 have health. Mr. bears up under our difficulties with 
 
 the same hopeful spirit which he has ever manifested. " The 
 Lord will provide," is still his answer to any doubt on our 
 part. The Northern officials offer free tickets to per- 
 sons returning to their homes ■ — ■ alas I to their homes ! 
 How few of us have homes ! Some are confiscated ; others 
 destroyed. The families of the army and navy officers are 
 here. The husbands and sons are absent, and they remain 
 with nothing to anticipate and nothing to enjoy. To-day I 
 met a friend, the wife of a high official, whose hospitality 
 
358 DIARY OP A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 I have often enjoyed in one of the most elegant residences 
 iu Virginia, which has been confiscated and used as a hos- 
 pital for " contrabands." Our conversation naturally turned 
 on our prospects. Hearing where we were going, she re- 
 plied, " I have no brother, but when I hear from my husband 
 and son, I shall accept the whole-souled invitation of a rela- 
 tive in the country, who has invited me to make his house 
 my home ; but," she added, as her beautiful eyes filled with 
 tears, " when are our visits to end ? We can't live with 
 our ruined relatives, and when our visits are over, what 
 then ? And how long must our visits of charity last V 
 The question was too sad ; neither of us could command 
 our voices, and we parted in silence and tears. 
 
 20th. — The cars on the Central Railroad will run to- 
 morrow, for the first time, under Federal rule, and the day 
 after we will use our passports and free tickets to leave 
 the city — dearer than ever, in its captivity and ruin. It is 
 almost impossible to get current money. A whole-hearted 
 friend from Alexandria met me the other day, and with the 
 straightforward simplicity due to friendship in these trying 
 times, asked me at once, " Has your husband any money ?" 
 I told him I thought not. He replied, " Tell him I 
 have between twenty-five and thirty dollars — that's all — 
 and he shall have half of it ; tell him I say so." Ten dollars 
 were accepted, for the circumstances of want which pressed 
 so hard, and for the kindly spirit in which it was offered. 
 Two other friends came forward to share with us their 
 little all. God help the warm hearts of our conquered but 
 precious country ! I know they will be blessed, and that 
 light will yet shine through the blackness of darkness which 
 now surrounds them. 
 
 W., 2ith. — On Saturday evening my brother's wagon 
 
apeil, 1865. 359 
 
 '. met us at the depot and brought us to this place, beautiful 
 in its ruiDS. We have not been here siuce the besom of de- 
 struction swept over it, and to us, who have been in the 
 habit of enjoying its hospitality when all was bright and 
 cheerful, the change is very depressing. We miss the re- 
 spectful and respectable servants, born in the family and 
 brought up with an affection for the household which seemed 
 a part of their nature, and which so largely contributed to 
 the happiness both of master and servant. Even the nurse 
 of our precious little J., the sole child of the house, whose 
 heart seemed bound up in her happiness, has gone. It is 
 touching to hear the sweet child's account of the shock she 
 experienced when she found that her " mammy,'' deceived 
 and misled by the minions who followed Gram's army, had 
 left her ; and to see how her affection still clings to her, 
 showing itself in the ardent hope that her " mammy " has 
 found a comfortable home. The army had respected the in- 
 terior of the house, because of the protection of the officers. 
 Only one ornament was missing, and that was the likeness 
 of this dear child. Since the fall of Richmond, a servant 
 of the estate, who had been living in Washington, told me 
 that it was in the possession of a maid-servant of the 
 house, who showed it to him, saying that she "looked at it 
 every day." We all try to be cheerful and to find a bright 
 side ; and we occupy the time as cheerfully as we can. The 
 governess having returned to her home in Norfolk, I shall 
 employ myself in teaching my bright little niece here and 
 the dear children at S. H., and feel blessed to have so pleas- 
 ant a duty. 
 
 25rt,.— J. P. arrived to-day direct from Mosby's com- 
 mand, which is disbanded, but has not surrendered. He is 
 full -of enthusiasm and visions of coming success, and is bent 
 
360 DIAET OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. 
 
 on joining Johnston. Dear boy, his hopeful spirit has in- 
 fected me, and aroused a hope which I am afraid to indulge. 
 
 28th. — We have no mail communication, and can hear 
 nothing from General Johnston. We go on as usual, but are 
 almost despairing. Dear M., in her sadness, has put some 
 Confederate money and postage stamps into a Confederate 
 envelope, sealed it up, and endorsed it, " In memory of our 
 beloved Confederacy." I feel like doing the same, and 
 treasuring up the buttons, and the stars, and the dear gray 
 coats, faded and worn as they are, with the soiled and tat- 
 tered banner, which has no dishonouring blot, the untar- 
 nished sword, and other arms, though defeated, still 
 crowned with glory. But not yet — I cannot feel that all is 
 over yet. 
 
 May 4. — General Johnston surrendered on the 26th of 
 April. " My native land, good-night !" 
 
 Note to page 60. 
 
 The capture attributed to the 27th Virginia is probably a mistake. 
 The honor claimed for that regiment has since been ascribed to 
 Fisher's 6th North Carolina regiment. In the -excitement of the 
 occasion, the writer of the letter may have been misinformed. The 
 author is glad to make the correction. All honor is certainly due to 
 the noble " Old North State," which, it has always been said, sent a 
 larger number of troops to the field, in proportion to its population, 
 than any other State in the Confederacy, and which .buried so many 
 thousands of its gallant sons, in defence of our "lost cause." 
 
 Note by the Publishers. — Both the statements are probably 
 true, to some extent. We have unquestionable evidence that Fisher's 
 regiment captured one section of Sherman's battery just before CoL 
 Fisher received his mortal wound. But the same evidence shows that 
 there was another section (both under Captain Rieketts) which was 
 captured by other troops ; our friend does not know what troops, but 
 no doubt the 27th Virginia. 
 
EDWARD J. HALE & SON, 
 
 (Late of Fatettevillb, North Carolina,) > 
 
 Publishers & Wholesale Booksellers & Stationers, 
 
 No. 16 MURRAY STREET, New York, 
 
 Publish the following works :— 
 
 DEFENCE OP VIRGINIA, AND OP THE SOUTH. Br 
 
 Rev. Dr. Daenet, author of a Life of Gen. (Stonewall) 
 
 Jackson. 1 vol., 12rno, cloth $1 50 
 
 DIARY OP A REFUGEE, DURING THE WAR. By a 
 
 Lady of Virginia. 1 vol., 12mo, cloth 2 00 
 
 LIFE OF GEN. PAT. CLEBURNE. (Iu preparation.) 
 HISTORY OF NORTH CAROLINA. By Rev. F. L. 
 
 Hawks, D.D., LL.D. 2 vols., 8vo, cloth 5 00 
 
 Library sheep 00 
 
 Half calf 7 00 
 
 DEVEREUX'S NORTH CAROLINA EQUITY REPORTS. 
 
 New edition. Vol. 2. 
 DEVEREUX AND BATTLKS EQUITY REPORTS. New 
 
 edition. 2 vols. 
 DEVEREUX AND BATTLE'S NORTH CAROLINA LAW 
 
 REPORTS. New edition. Vols. 1 and 2. 
 IREDELL'S NORTH CAROLINA LAW REPORTS. Vols. 
 
 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12. 
 IREDELL'S NORTH CAROLINA EQUITY REPORTS. 
 
 Vols. 4, 5, 6, 7. 
 
 They are prepared to furnish any of these, or complete seta 
 of North Carolina Reports, as far aB extant. Also, Battle's 
 New and Complete DIGEST of these Reports, brought down to 
 1866, and superseling all former Digests. 3 vols. 
 
E. J: Hale & Son's Publications. 
 
 SOUTHERN SCHOOL BOOKS. 
 
 The subscribers are prepared and -will be pleased to supply 
 their customers with School Books of all kinds in use, but are 
 particularly desirous to extend the use of books prepared for 
 Southern Schools, by Southern authors, and therefore free from 
 matter offensive to Southern people. Most prominent among 
 these may be mentioned the 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA READERS. By Rev. C. H. Wiley, Su- 
 perintendent of Common Schools in North Carolina, and Rev. 
 Dr. HinBBABD, Professor in the University of North Carolina. 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY SERIES OP SCHOOL AND COLLEGE 
 TEXT-BOOKS. By Professors Holmes, Venable, Gilder- 
 sleeve, De Vere, and Le Comte, of Southern Universities, 
 and Captain M. P. Maury, one of the most distinguished of 
 living Geographers. 
 
 OUR OWN SERLES of Spellers, Readers, and Writing Books. 
 By Rev. Professor Richard Sterling, of Greensborough, 
 N. C. 
 
 Of the above, the following (wholesale prices annexed) are 
 now, and others soon will be, ready : — 
 
 North Carolina Reader, No. 1 30 
 
 2 50 
 
 3 '. 75 
 
 Holmes's Southern Pictorial Primer, per dozen 75 
 
 " Elementary Speller, " net cash . 1 20 
 
 Pictorial 1st Reader, each 20 
 
 2d " 34 
 
 3d " 45 
 
 4th " 64 
 
 5th " 1 00 
 
 Venable's First Lessons in Numbers 24 
 
 " Mental Arithmetic 45 
 
 De Vere's Grammar in French 1 40 
 
E. J. Hale & Son's Publications. 
 
 Sterling's Southern Primer, paper, per dozen 90 
 
 stiff covers, " 1 08 
 
 " " Pictorial Primer, ' " 2 00 
 
 Speller, per dozen, net cash 1 20 
 
 " " 1st Reader, eacli 25 
 
 2d " " 50 
 
 3d " " 60 
 
 4th " " 90 
 
 5th " " 1 08 
 
 " Writing Books, per dozen 1 80 
 
 Bingham's Latin Grammar. By Col. W. Bingham, Prin- 
 cipal of the celebrated Bingham School, Oaks, Ala- 
 mance County, N. C. Each 1 20 
 
 Bingham's English Grammar. By the same. Each 67 
 
 Ross's Southern Speaker. By Professor Boss, of Louisiana 1 13 
 
 Bill's Algebra (Gen. D. H. Hill, of " The Land we Love ") 1 50 
 
 They respectfully invite orders for these or other School, 
 
 f Miscellaneous, and Standard Books, Stationery, &c, &c, from 
 
 their friends and the Southern public. They believe that they 
 
 supply Booksellers, Merchants, Teachers, and others, with goods 
 
 quite as cheaply, for cash, as they can be bought in this city. 
 
 Address 
 
 E. J. HALE & SON, 
 
 No. 16 MURRAY STREET, NEW YORK. 
 
 t^" Any Book, of their- own or others' publications, will be sent 
 by Mail, free of postage, on receipt of Publisher's advertised retail 
 price. 
 
m&