Page:Southern Historical Society Papers volume 02.djvu/88

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Southern Historical Society Papers.

unknown ford on the Potomac, and again in bearing a dispatch to the Commanding General from Emmettsburg.

Grateful to the Giver of all Good for the attainment of such results with such small comparative losses, I have the honor to be

Most respectfully,
Your obedient servant,
J. E. B. Stuart.



Diary of Captain Robert E. Park, Twelfth Alabama Regiment.

[Continued from July Number.]

September 26th,—1864 Miss Janet F—— , a very pretty and intelligent young lady, came to the office, and brought us some delicacies. She is a granddaughter of Brigadier-General Fauntleroy, perhaps the oldest officer on the rolls of the Confederate army, now over eighty years of age, and daughter of Captain Fauntleroy of the Confederate navy, now serving his country on the high seas, aiding Admiral Semmes, Captain Maffitt, Commodore Maury and other gallant seamen. My wound gives me constant pain. The torn flesh protrudes nearly two inches, and the severed nerves torture me much.

September 27th, 28th and 29th—Three days of great suffering. Small bones are constantly working their way out of my wound, and the separated nerves and sinews keep me awake night and day. The good ladies are ministering angels, so incessant are they in their kind attentions. They are doing most excellent service in the Confederate hospital, greatly assisting the surgeons. We owe them a debt of lasting gratitude.

September 30th—In the afternoon, while in conversation with the beautiful Miss N. K——, a sharp piece of bone, making its exit from my wound, cut an artery, and "secondary hemorrhage" was produced. Miss N—— ran immediately for a surgeon, and, in an incredibly short time, returned with Dr. Hardy, who promptly applied sulphate of iron, and bandaged my leg very tightly from the foot to the knee, thus checking the dangerous hemorrhage. The blood flowed in jets from the artery, and I soon became very week and deathly sick. Drs. Weatherly and Hardy came to see me frequently during the day and night, and although they gave me two large doses of morphine, I could not sleep at all for pain. Poor John Attaway died of his wound at the residence of Mrs.