Spent yesterday in the hospital. I am particularly
interested in two very ill men. One is a youth of seventeen years, who has been
seventeen months in service. Poor boy! he is now sinking with consumption, and
has lately been brought to our hospital from another. His case elicits great
sympathy and kindness. His name is Stansberry, and he is from Baltimore. We
have reason to hope that he is prepared to meet his God.
Letters (underground) from the Valley to-day. Millroy is
doing his worst among the dear people there. It is grievous to think how much
of Virginia is down-trodden and lying in ruins. The old State has bared her
breast to the destroyer, and borne the brunt of battle for the good of the
Confederacy, and this too after long and vain efforts for peace. Her citizens,
young and old, are doing what they can. Her sons have bled and died, and are
still offering themselves willing sacrifices on the country's altar. Her
daughters are striving in their vocation in this hallowed cause, all looking to
God for his blessing upon our efforts.
SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 207
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