Judith White McGuire, Diary of a southern refugee during the war, by a lady of Virginia

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[171] McC. was too slow about every thing. The “Young Napoleon” has fallen from his high estate, and returns to his family at Trenton! The Yankees are surely an absurd race, to say the least of them. At one moment extolling their generals as demi-gods, the next hurling them to the dust-none so poor as to do them reverence. “General McClellan is believed to have passed through Washington last night,” is the announcement of a late Yankee paper, of the idol of last week.

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November 18th, 1862.

Another raid upon Fredericksburg; much mischief done! They are preparing for a second evacuation of the town! The number of refugees will be greatly increased, and where are they to go? Poor homeless wanderers, leaving business and the means of support to the mercy of a vindictive soldiery!

Letters from our Valley friends taking leave of us, written some time ago, when the enemy were again closing around them. We are very anxious about them. Their situation is becoming pitiable; every new set of troops help themselves to whatever suits their fancy-stock of all sorts, grain, meat, every thing valuable and portable I Silver, glass, china, has to be buried, and very adroitly, or it is found. Some of the servants are very unfaithful, and let the enemy in to the most private places. There are some honourable exceptions to this last remark. Our relative, Mr. P., has moved below the mountains for security; but he was in the habit, when at home, of intrusting every thing to his house-servant, including his wine and ardent spiritsand it was all kept sacredly — the master knew not where; but on each departure of the enemy every thing would be returned to its accustomed place, in good order.

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November November 23, 1862.

Poor Fredericksburg! The enemy on