We have no mail communication, and can hear nothing from
General Johnston. We go on as usual, but are almost despairing. Dear M., in her
sadness, has put some Confederate money and postage stamps into a Confederate
envelope, sealed it up, and endorsed it, “In memory of our beloved Confederacy.”
I feel like doing the same, and treasuring up the buttons, and the stars, and
the dear gray coats, faded and worn as they are, with the soiled and tattered
banner, which has no dishonouring blot, the untarnished sword, and other arms,
though defeated, still crowned with glory. But not yet — I cannot feel that all
is over yet.
SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 360
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