Poor Rufus died this evening; 'twas heartrending to hear the piteous wails of his young wife and see the silent but deep anguish of his aged father. I was riding most of the night to procure some conveyance for his remains, but did not succeed, and we will have to bury him in Winchester.
SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 139
No comments:
Post a Comment