As we rose from the dinner table today, I asked Mr. Preston
if he was going to ride out to the farm this afternoon. “No,” he said, “I will
read a while, and then go down street and hear the news.” He had scarcely done
speaking, when he was summoned to the door, to “hear the news,” the sad news,
that in a fight just over, at Winchester, Frank Preston [the second son of the
family] had been “severely wounded.” In about two hours, the carriage was
ready, and Mr. P. on his way to Staunton. Prof. Nelson went with him, as his
brother-in-law is slightly wounded. How he will find poor Frank, God only
knows: he said he would be thankful to find him alive, and seemed little disposed
to be hopeful about him: he has an arm broken, and a ball in his side. Oh! this
horrid, unnatural war! Had a letter today from W. F. J. — he says his time is
absorbed in trying to comfort the afflicted. Must write to the distressed G.
family; R. was brought home dead a few days ago. May God be gracious,
and spare my husband the anguish of seeing his son cut off in the first flush
of his opening manhood!
SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and
Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 141
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