University Of
Virginia.—Arrived here yesterday, and met with a glowing reception from
the friends of my youth, Professor and Mrs. Maupin. My sister, Mrs. C, and
daughters, staying next door, at Professor Minor's. In less than five minutes
we were all together — the first time for many anxious months. They are
refugees, and can only hear from home when our army finds it convenient to clear
“The Valley” of invaders. One of her sons, dear R., was ordered last winter, by
General Jackson, to command a body of soldiers, whom he sent to break the dam
in the Potomac, which at that point supplied the Ohio and Chesapeake Canal with
water — (it also worked his mother's mill) — and the breaking of which, if
effectually done, would prevent the Yankees from using the canal for
transportation. This dangerous project was undertaken most cheerfully, and was
most thoroughly effected. It was necessarily done in the night, to elude the
vigilance of the Yankees on the Maryland shore. In the dead hour of the
winter's night did some of the first gentlemen's sons in the South, who
happened to belong to that portion of the army, work up to their waists in
water, silently, quietly, until the work was finished; nor were they discovered
until day dawned, and revealed them retiring; then shot and shell began to fall
among them furiously. One of the brave band fell! Notwithstanding their danger,
his companions could not leave him, but lifted him tenderly, and carried him to
a place of safety, where he might at least have Christian burial by
sympathizing friends. The large old mill, which had for many years sent its
hundreds and thousands of barrels of flour to the Baltimore and Georgetown
markets, still stood, though its wheels were hushed by the daring act of the
night before. It had been used of late by the Yankees for their own purposes.
The enemy seemed to have forgotten to destroy it, but the Union men could not
allow their old friend and neighbour, though the widow of one whom they had
once delighted to honour, to have such valuable property left to her; they
immediately communicated to the Yankees that it belonged to the mother of the
leader of the party who broke the dam. It was, of course, shelled and burned to
the ground, except its old stone walls, which defied their fury; but if it
helped the cause, the loss of the property did not weigh a feather with
the family. This son has just been promoted to the lieutenant-colonelcy of the
Second Regiment. His mother expressed her gratification, but added, that he had
been so successful as captain of the company which he had raised, drilled, and
led out from his own county, that she dreaded a change; besides, in that Second
Regiment so many field-officers had fallen, that she had almost a superstitious
dread of it. My dear R., his heart is so bound up in the cause, that
self-preservation is the last thing that ever occurs to him. Oh! I trust that
all evil may be averted from him.
It is sad to see these elegant University buildings, and
that beautiful lawn, which I have always seen teeming with life and animation,
now almost deserted. Two of the Professors are on the field; the Professors of
Medicine and Surgery are surgeons in the neighbouring hospitals, and Dr. B. is
Assistant Secretary of War. Others, unfitted by age and other circumstances for
the service, are here pursuing their usual avocations with assiduity, but
through many difficulties. The students are mere boys, not arrived at military
age, or, in a few instances, wounded soldiers unfit for service. The hospitals
at Charlottesville are very large, and said to be admirably managed. Every lady
at this place, or in town, seems to be actively engaged in making the patients
comfortable. The kitchens are presided over by ladies; each lady knows her own
day to go to a particular kitchen to see that the food is properly prepared and
served to the patients — I mean those who are confined to their beds or wards —
the regular “matrons” do every thing else. This rich country supplies milk,
butter, fruit, vegetables, fresh meat, etc.; and all kinds of delicacies are
prepared by the ladies. Our friends, Dr. and Mrs. M., have sons in the field.
The elder, though not of military age at the time, shouldered his musket at the
first tap of the drum; he would not be restrained. When I saw him, with his
slight figure and boyish look, in his uniform and soldier's trappings, my heart
sank within me, as I remembered that ’twas but as yesterday that this child,
with his picture beauty, was the pet of the household. Now he is quite a
veteran; has fought on many a field; scorns the idea of danger; prides himself
on being a good soldier; never unnecessarily asking for furloughs, and always
being present at roll-call. The second son, but sixteen, as his father would
not allow him to enlist, has gone as an independent in a cavalry company,
merely, he said, for the “summer campaign.” Ah! in this “summer campaign,”
scarcely equalled in the annals of history, what horrors might have come! But
he has passed through safely, and his father has recalled him to his college
duties. Their mother bears the separation from them, as women of the South
invariably do, calmly and quietly, with a humble trust in God, and an
unwavering confidence in the justice and righteousness of our cause.
SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 161-4
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