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
Presbyterian 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 not to come, but to have the congregation dismissed at once, as the
enemy were certainly approaching. We returned home in a most perturbed state,
and found that my husband had just arrived, with several 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 reigned 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, feeling desolate, but thankful that our
gentlemen were safely off.
SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 134-5
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