Our people continue to make every effort to repel the foe,
who, like the locusts of Egypt, overrun our land, carrying the bitterest enmity
and desolation wherever they go. Troops are passing through Richmond on their
way to Goldsborough, N. C, where it is said that Burnside is expected to meet
them. Everybody is busy in supplying their wants as they pass through. On
Sunday, just as the girls of one of the large seminaries were about to seat
themselves at table, the principal of the school came in: “Young ladies,” said
he, “several extra trains have arrived, unexpectedly, filled with troops. The
committee appointed to attend them are totally unprepared. What can we do to
help our hungry soldiers?” “Give them our dinner,” cried every young voice at
once. In five minutes baskets were filled and the table cleared. When the girls
reached the cars, the street was thronged with ladies, gentlemen, children,
servants, bearing waiters, dishes, trays, baskets filled with meats, bread,
vegetables, etc. Every table in Richmond seemed to have sent its dinner to
Broad Street, and our dear, dusty, hungry gray coats dined to their hearts' content,
filled their haversacks, shouted “Richmond forever!” and went on their way
rejoicing.
SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 102-3
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