Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: June 27, 1862 – 10 p.m.

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, and 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 grand 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 "Potomac 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 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, O my soul!”

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 125-6

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