Showing posts with label John P McGuire II. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John P McGuire II. Show all posts

Monday, April 11, 2016

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: January 11, 1865

Every thing seems unchanging in the outer world during the few past days. We were most delightfully surprised last night. While sitting quietly in the Colonel's room, (in the basement,) the window was suddenly thrown up, and in sprang our son J., just returned from Northern captivity. Finding that we had changed our quarters since he was here, he walked up the street in search of us, and while stopping to ascertain the right house, he espied us through the half-open window shutter, and was too impatient for the preliminaries of ringing a bell and waiting for a servant to open the door. He was in exuberant spirits, but much disappointed that his wife was not with us. So, after a short sojourn and a cup of tea, he went off to join her on “Union Hill.” They both dined with us to-day. His confinement has not been so bad as we feared, from the treatment which many other prisoners had received, but it was disagreeable enough. He was among the surgeons in Winchester in charge of the sick and wounded; and when we retreated before Sheridan after the battle of the 19th of August, it fell to his lot, among eighteen or twenty other surgeons, to be left there to take care of our captured wounded. When those duties were at an end, instead of sending them under flag of truce to our own army, they were taken first to the old Capitol, where they remained ten days, thence to Fort Delaware, for one night, and thence to Fort Hamilton, near Fortress Monroe, where they were detained four weeks. They there met with much kindness from Southern ladies, and also from a Federal officer, Captain Blake.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 330-1

Saturday, June 6, 2015

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: September 5, 1862

Our son J. arrived last night with quite a party, his health greatly suffering from over-work in Richmond during these exciting times. One of the party told me an anecdote of General J. E. B. Stuart, which pleased me greatly. Mrs. S. was in the cars, and near her sat a youth, in all the pride of his first Confederate uniform, who had attended General S. during his late raid as one of his guides through his native county of Hanover. At one of the water stations he was interesting the passengers by an animated account of their hair-breadth escapes by flood and field, and concluded by saying, “In all the tight places we got into, I never heard the General swear an oath, and I never saw him drink a drop.” Mrs. S. was an amused auditor of the excited narrative, and after the cars were in motion she leaned forward, introduced herself to the boy, and asked him if he knew the reason why General S. never swears nor drinks; adding, “It is because he is a Christian and loves God, and nothing will induce him to do what he thinks wrong, and I want you and all his soldiers to follow his example.”

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 151