No light on our sorrow — still gloomy, dark, and uncertain.
I went to-day to the hospital, as was my duty. My dear
friend S. T. cheers me, by being utterly incredulous about the reported
surrender. As usual, she is cheerfully devoting her powers of mind and body to
her hospital. For four years she has never thought of her own comfort, when by
sacrificing it she could alleviate a soldier's sorrow. Miss E. D., who has
shared with her every duty, every self-sacrificing effort in behalf of our sick
and wounded soldiers, is now enduring the keenest pangs of sorrow from the
untimely death of her venerable father. On the day of the evacuation, while
walking too near a burning house, he was struck by a piece of falling timber,
and the blow soon closed his long life. Alas! the devoted daughter, who had
done so much for other wounded, could do nothing for the restoration of one so
dear to her.
SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 352-3
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