Page:Southern Historical Society Papers volume 03.djvu/255

Rh are burnt, our land desolated, our wealth departed in smoke and ashes, our very hearthstones dyed in blood, our dear dead have fallen in vain, but we shall ever remember, honor and be grateful to them. But I will not admit that the cause is entirely lost. The armies of Generals Joseph Johnston, Dick Taylor and Kirby Smith are still in the field, and may snatch victory from apparent defeat yet. The Yankees guarding us, while jubilant at the news, are seemingly kinder than usual.

April llth to 15th—I was the only officer in our ward that succeeded in buying a morning's paper to-day (the 15th). The Inquirer was brought me at a late hour, hurriedly and stealthily, by the nurse Curry. I was inexpressibly shocked at reading at the head of the first column, first page, the terrible words:

Then followed in detail the account of the assassination. I called aloud to my hospital comrades, and as I read, they left their bunks and crowded around me, listening with awe to the tragic recital. One of them remarked that he would gladly divide his last crust of bread with the daring Booth, if he should meet him in his wanderings. I said I looked upon Lincoln as a tyrant and inveterate enemy of the South, and could shed no tears for him, but deprecated the cruel manner of his taking off. While we were eagerly and excitedly discussing the startling news, the young galvanized renegade Curry came to my bunk and took down my card, saying, "the doctor says you must go to the barracks." The order was given to no one else, and not having recovered sufficiently for the change, I replied that I would not go until ordered to do so by the surgeon in person. Curry left, and, in a few minutes, young Doctor Miller came in, and told me to get ready for the barracks. Protesting against the inhumanity of his order, I crawled on my hands, right foot and hips to the door of the ward, and near by, in a small ante-room, put on my old suit of clothes, laying aside my hospital garb. I was then directed to the door of the hospital, down a long, bleak, windy passage, near the gate to the officers' barracks. Here I waited for my crutches and further orders. Very soon I saw Captain McSherry approaching, and others of my ward and those adjoining followed. Colonel James W. Hinton