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Judith White McGuire, Diary of a southern refugee during the war, by a lady of Virginia, 1861. (search)
on our left. Some thought the enemy was retreating; others that our men had fallen back. It was an hour of painful interest. At eleven o'clock an aid-de-camp rode up in a gallop, and said our men were retiring — the cavalry was ordered to the left. We were temporarily attached to Radford's regiment-ours was the first company, and mine was the first platoon. On we dashed in a gallop, and as we passed within range of a battery of rifled cannon a ball was fired at us which passed between Wickham and myself, knocking up a cloud of dust. Without wavering in their ranks, the men and horses dashed forward at a gallop. As we reached the scene of action the sight was discouraging in the extreme. The enemy had at first the advantage of every attacking party. He had concentrated his forces for an attack upon one point. The First Louisiana Regiment and the Fourth Alabama, attacked in flank and centre by 30,000 men, were literally cut to pieces. They refused to surrender, but retired s
Judith White McGuire, Diary of a southern refugee during the war, by a lady of Virginia, 1864. (search)
p Moore, on the monument erected by his church; then, that of his daughter, the admirable Miss Christian; then the monument to Colonel Ambler, erected by his children. Mrs. Ambler lies by him. Mr. and Mrs. Chapman Johnson, Judge and Mrs. Cabell, Mr. and Mrs. John Wickham, surrounded by their children, who were the companions of my youth; also, their lovely grand-daughter, Mrs. W. H F. Lee, who passed away last winter, at an early age, while her husband was prisoner of war. Near them is the grMrs. John Wickham, surrounded by their children, who were the companions of my youth; also, their lovely grand-daughter, Mrs. W. H F. Lee, who passed away last winter, at an early age, while her husband was prisoner of war. Near them is the grave of the Hon. Benjamin Watkins Leigh; of Judge and Mrs. Stanard, and of their gifted son; of dear Mrs. Henningham Lyons and her son James, from whose untimely end she never recovered; of our sweet friend, Mrs. Lucy Green. Then there is the handsome monument of Mrs. Abraham Warwick and the grave of her son, dear Clarence, who died so nobly at Gaines's Mill in 1862. His grave seems to be always covered with fresh flowers, a beautiful offering to one whose young life was so freely given to his