Since the last note in my diary we have been pursuing our
usual course. The tenor of our way is singularly rough and uneven, marked by
the sound of cannon, the marching of troops, and all the paraphernalia of grim-visaged
war; but we still visit our friends and relatives, and have our pleasant social
and family meetings, as though we were at peace with all the world. The theme
of every tongue is our army in Maryland. What is it doing? What will be the
result of the venture? The last accounts are from the Washington papers. Early,
they say, is before Washington, throwing in shells, having cut the railroads
and burnt the bridges. We are of course all anxiety, and rumour is busier than
ever. The army, it is said, has driven innnmerable horses, beeves, etc., into
Virginia. I trust so; it is surmised that to supply the commissariat is the
chief object of the trip. Grant still before Petersburg, sending transports,
etc., with troops to defend Washington.
SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 281
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