On Monday saw B. removed from the bed of suffering, on which
he had been lying four months, put on a stretcher, and carried to the
canal-boat. His countenance was full of joyful anticipations of home. His arm,
which should have been amputated on the field, hangs lifeless by his side; and
yet he expects to return to his post, that of Major of artillery, as soon as he
is strong enough. Poor fellow, it is well for him to amuse himself with the
idea, but he will never again be fit for any duty but that at a post. He has
been the recipient of kindnesses from Mr. and Mrs. P. and others, which could
only be experienced in this dear, warm-hearted Southern country of ours, and
which he can never forget to his dying day. That night I spent with my kind
friend Mrs. R, and next morning made such purchases as were absolutely
necessary for our comfort. I gave for bleached cotton, which used to be sold
for 12½ cents, $3.50 per yard; towelling $1.25 per yard; cotton 50 cents a
spool, etc. Nothing reconciled me to this extravagance but that I had sold my
soap for $1 per pound!!
The enemy has retired from Vicksburg, their canal having
proved a failure. Where they will reappear nobody knows. Another ineffectual
attempt upon Charleston on the 7th and 8th.
SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 204-5
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