On Saturday Mr. ––– and myself went up to Cedar Hill, and he
attempted to go to Fredericksburg; when he reached Hamilton's Crossings he
found it impossible to go on — conveyances were so scarce and the roads so
terrible. He had the pleasure to dine, by invitation, at General Jackson's
head-quarters. That night he spent with his old friend, Mr. M. Garnett. Once
having every luxury which could be desired, he now lives in his desolated
house, surrounded by down-trodden fields, without fences, trees, or vegetation
of any sort. His servants, except a few faithful ones, have deserted him; his
horses and stock of all kinds have been swept away; his sons in the army; and
he is cheerful and buoyed with hope, not for himself, but for the cause good
old patriot as he is, forgetting his own privations in zeal for his country. On
Sunday Mr. ––– heard an admirable sermon at head-quarters (General Jackson's)
from the Rev. Mr. Lacy, a Presbyterian chaplain, and returned home on Monday,
having found it impossible to fulfil the object of his trip, that of preaching
to the soldiers in Fredericksburg.
SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 208-9
