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Judith White McGuire, Diary of a southern refugee during the war, by a lady of Virginia, 1861. (search)
eyes filled with tears as he replied, Not now; I have been, and my little children, away in Alabama, are always in my mind. At first I thought I could not leave the little motherless things, but then our boys were all coming, and mother said, Go, Jack, the country must have men, and you must bear your part, and I will take care of the children; and then I went and ‘listed, and when I went back home for my things, and saw my children, I ‘most died like. Mother, says I, I am going, and father must take my corn, my hogs, and every thing else he likes, and keep my children; but if I never get back, I know it will be a mighty burden in your old age; but I know you will do your best. Jack, says she, I will do a mother's part by them; but you must not talk that way. Why should you get killed more than another? You will get back, and then we shall be so happy. God will take care of you, I know He will. He then took a wallet from under his pillow, and took two locks of hair: This is Pet