Our daughter-in-law, Mrs. Dr. –––, came from Charlottesville
this evening. The regular communication being cut off, she went up to
Lynchburg, taking that route to Richmond; but the Government having impressed
the cars, she was obliged to take a freight-train, and was fortunate in finding
a friend coming down in the same way, who acted as her escort. At Burkesville
(shall I record it of a Virginia house of any degree ?) she was treated with
such inhospitality, that she was compelled to pass the night in a car filled
with bags of corn, which the gentlemen fixed so carefully as to give her almost
a comfortable restingplace. When she returned from her unsuccessful
application for quarters, one of the soldiers said to her, (she was the only
lady in the company,) “Lady, where are you from?” “The Valley of
Virginia,” was her reply. He instantly sprang up: “Boys, we must burn that
house!” he exclaimed; “they won't take in this lady from the ‘Valley,’ where we
have been treated so kindly.” Of course he had no idea of burning the house,
though he seemed highly indignant. She came to us looking well after a three
days' journey, having borne her difficulties with great cheerfulness.
SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 276
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