In Richmond, to-day, I saw my old friend, Mrs. E. R. C.,
looking after her sons. One was reported "wounded;" the other
"missing." This sad word may mean that he is a prisoner; it may mean
worse. She can get no clue to him. His company has not come, and she is very
miserable. Two mothers, one from Georgia, another from Florida, have come on in
pursuit of their sons, and are searching the hospitals for them. They were not
in our hospital, and we could give them no information, so they went on to
others. There is more unhappiness abroad among our people than I have ever seen
before. Sometimes I wish I could sleep until it is over — a selfish wish
enough; but it is hard to witness so much sorrow which you cannot alleviate.
SOURCE: McGuire, Judith W., Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 231
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