Fairfax C. H. — The day of suspense is at an end. Alexandria
and its environs, including, I greatly fear, our home, are in the hands of the
enemy. Yesterday morning, at an early hour, as I was in my pantry, putting up
refreshments for the barracks preparatory to a ride to Alexandria, the door was
suddenly thrown open by a servant, looking wild with excitement, exclaiming, “Oh,
madam, do you know?” “Know what, Henry?” “Alexandria is filled with Yankees.” “Are
you sure, Henry?” said I, trembling in every limb. “Sure, madam! I saw
them myself. Before I got up I heard soldiers rushing by the door; went out,
and saw our men going to the cars.” “Did they get off?” I asked, afraid to hear
the answer. “Oh, yes, the cars went off full of them, and some marched out; and
then I went to King Street, and saw such crowds of Yankees coming in! They came
down the turnpike, and some came down the river; and presently I heard such
noise and confusion, and they said they were fighting, so I came home as fast
as I could.” I lost no time in seeking Mr. ____, who hurried out to hear the
truth of the story. He soon met Dr. ____,
who was bearing off one of the editors in his buggy. He more than confirmed
Henry's report, and gave an account of the tragedy at the Marshall House. Poor
Jackson (the proprietor) had always said that the Confederate flag which
floated from the top of his house should never be taken down but over his dead
body. It was known that he was a devoted patriot, but his friends had amused
themselves at this rash speech. He was suddenly aroused by the noise of men rushing
by his room-door, ran to the window, and seeing at once what was going on, he
seized his gun, his wife trying in vain to stop him; as he reached the passage
he saw Colonel Ellsworth coming from the third story, waving the flag. As he
passed Jackson he said, “I have a trophy.” Jackson immediately raised his gun,
and in an instant Ellsworth fell dead. One of the party immediately killed poor
Jackson. The Federals then proceeded down the street, taking possession of
public houses, etc. I am mortified to write that a party of our cavalry,
thirty-five in number, was captured. It can scarcely be accounted for. It is
said that the Federals notified the authorities in Alexandria that they would
enter the city at eight, and the captain was so credulous as to believe them.
Poor fellow, he is now a prisoner, but it will be a lesson to him and to our
troops generally. Jackson leaves a wife and children. I know the country will
take care of them. He is the first martyr. I shudder to think how many more
there may be.
The question with us was, what was next to be done? Mr. ____ had voted for secession, and there
were Union people enough around us to communicate every thing of the sort to
the Federals; the few neighbours who were left were preparing to be off, and we
thought it most prudent to come off too. Pickets were already thrown out beyond
Shuter's Hill, and they were threatening to arrest all secessionists. With a
heavy heart I packed trunks and boxes, as many as our little carriage would
hold; had packing boxes fixed in my room for the purpose of bringing off
valuables of various sorts, when I go down on Monday; locked up every thing;
gave the keys to the cook, enjoining upon the servants to take care of the
cows, “Old Rock,” the garden, the flowers, and last, but not least, J____’s splendid
Newfoundland. Poor dog, as we got into the carriage how I did long to take him!
When we took leave of the servants they looked sorrowful, and we felt so. I promised
them to return to-day, but Mr. ____ was so sick this morning that I could not
leave him, and have deferred it until day after to-morrow. Mr. ____ said, as he
looked out upon the green lawn just before we set off, that he thought he had
never seen the place so attractive; and as we drove off the bright flowers we
had planted seemed in full glory; every flower-bed seemed to glow with the “Giant
of Battles” and other brilliant roses. In bitterness of heart I exclaimed, “Why
must we leave thee, Paradise!” and for the first time my tears streamed. As we
drove by “The Seminary,” the few students who remained came out to say “Good-by.”
One of them had just returned from Alexandria, where he had seen the bodies of
Ellsworth and Jackson, and another, of which we had heard through one of our
servants who went to town in the morning. When the Federal troops arrived, a
man being ordered to take down the secession flag from above the market-house,
and run up the “stars and stripes,” got nearly to the flag, missed his
foothold, fell, and broke his neck. This remarkable circumstance was told me by
two persons who saw the body. Is it ominous? I trust and pray that it may be.
When we got to Bailey's Cross Roads, Mr. ____ said to me
that we were obliged to leave our home, and as far as we have a right to
any other, it makes not the slightest difference which road we take — we might
as well drive to the right hand as to the left — nothing remains to us but the
barren, beaten track. It was a sorrowful thought; but we have kind relations
and friends whose doors are open to us, and we hope to get home again before
very long. The South did not bring on the war, and I believe that God will
provide for the homeless.
About sunset we drove up to the door of this, the house of
our relative, the Rev. Mr. B., and were received with the warmest welcome. As
we drove through the village we saw the carriage of Commodore F. standing at
the hotel door, and were soon followed by the C.'s of our neighbourhood and
many others. They told us that the Union men of the town were pointing out the
houses of the Secessionists, and that some of them had already been taken by
Federal officers. When I think of all this my heart quails within me. Our
future is so dark and shadowy, so much may, nay must, happen before we again
become quiet, and get back, that I feel sad and dreary. I have no fear for the
country — that must and will succeed; but our dear ones! — the representatives
of every State, almost every family, from the Potomac to the Gulf of Mexico — how
must they suffer, and how must we at home suffer in their behalf!
This little village has two or three companies quartered in
it. It seems thoroughly aroused from the quiescent state which it was wont to
indulge. Drums are beating, colours flying, and ever and anon we are startled
by the sound of a gun. At Fairfax Station there are a good many troops, a South
Carolina regiment at Centreville, and quite an army is collecting at Manassas
Station. We shall be greatly outnumbered, I know, but numbers cannot make up
for the zeal and patriotism of our Southern men fighting for home and liberty.
SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 17-21
