Monday, March 30, 2015

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: December 19, 1862

This evening, just before sunset, we saw the mortal remains of the dear boy committed to the grave. It is a sore blow to his precious father, to his sisters, and to us all. God grant it may be a sanctified affliction! We have surely need of chastisement, or it would not have been repeated so painfully, within so brief a period. Three months and a half only, since dear Willy laid down his life on the battle field; and now another, as full of life — as perfect a model of health — as seemingly fitted for long life as any one I ever saw, after a lingering illness of seven weeks, is cut off. How mysterious the providence appears! Few parents have as noble boys to lose; and yet their father bows to the stroke with entireness of Christian resignation. May God sustain his bruised heart!

Had a note from Gen. Jackson yesterday, most kindly written amidst the hurry of a day or two succeeding the Fredericksburg battle, informing me that Bro. John was met on the field by one of his aids, as he was removing the dead — he being a Federal surgeon — and that a cousin named Junkin, whom I have never seen, was among the slain. Bro. John sent word through the aid that my friends were all well. I desire to be thankful for this last item of information.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 156-7

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