The ladies are now engaged making sand-bags for the
fortifications at Yorktown; every lecture-room in town crowded with them,
sewing busily, hopefully, prayerfully. Thousands are wanted. No battle, but
heavy skirmishing at Yorktown. Our friend, Colonel McKinney, has fallen at the
head of a North Carolina regiment. Fredericksburg has been abandoned to the
enemy. Troops passing 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!
SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 107-8
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