Diary of a Southern Refugee, Judith White McGuire.

14th.—–To-day spent in the hospital; a number of wounded there from the fatal field of Gettysburg. They are not severely wounded, or they could not have been brought so far. Port Hudson has fallen! It could not be retained after losing Vicksburg. General Lee’s army is near Hagerstown. Some of the casualties of the Gettysburg fight which have reached me are very distressing. The death of James Maupin, of the University of Virginia—so young, so gentle, so brave! He fell at his gun, as member of the Second Howitzers of Richmond. My heart goes out in warmest sympathy for his parents and devoted grandmother. Colonel James Marshall, of Fauquier, has fallen. He is yet another of those dear ones over whose youth we so fondly watched. Yet another was Westwood McCreery, formerly of Richmond. Another was Valentine Southall. They all went with bright hope, remembering that every blow that was struck was for their own South. Alas! alas! the South now weeps some of her bravest sons. But, trying as it is to record the death of those dear boys, it is harder still to speak of those of our own house and blood. Lieutenant B. H. McGuire, our nephew, the bright, fairhaired boy, from whom we parted last summer at Lynchburg as he went on his way to the field, full of buoyancy and hope, is among the dead at Gettysburg. Also, Captain Austin Brockenbrough, of Essex County. Virginia had no son to whom a brighter future opened. His talents, his education, his social qualities, his affectionate sympathy with all around him, are all laid low. Oh, may God be with those of whose life they seemed a part! It is hard to think of so many of our warm-hearted, whole-souled, brave, ardent Southern youths, now sleeping beneath the cold clods of Pennsylvania. We can only hope that the day is not far distant when we may bring their dear bodies back to their native soil.