Gettysburg Girls

I was planning on some history yesterday, but I ended up posting all those cute photos instead. Today, however, I've found something terribly interesting - though tragic at the same time - diary entries and letters of girls and women who were witnesses to the battle of Gettysburg that wrought such carnage from July 1 - 3, 1863.

"Hardly had we arrived at our suposed place of refuge, when we were told to hurry back to where we came from; that we were in a great deal of danger, from the fact that the shells would fall just about this place, whereas at the house near Round Top the shells would pass over us. So there was no alternative but to retrace our steps about as fast as we came.
During the whole of this wild goose chase, the cannoning had become terrible! ... Occasionally a shell would come flying over Round Top and explode high in the air over head. It seemed as though the heavens were sending forth peal upon peal of terrible thunder directly over our heads; while at the same time, the very earth beneath our feet trembled."

~ From the diary of Tillie Pierce, a 15-year-old Gettysburg resident who was sent from one farmhouse to another in attempt to ensure her safety.

"He died in my arms, Sunday evening, just at sunset his precious brown eyes fixed in mine, without a struggle, and his last fleeting breath I caught upon his lips... You must not feel that your son died in an enemy's country with none to love or care for him. His whole Brigade loved him as did all who came in contact with him, even those who were opposed to the glorious cause for which so many brave and boble have already been sacrificed, and many were the bitter tears shed over his untimely grave. If this should ever reach you, may I ask that you will answer it. I hope that we may meet after this unhappy war is ended and that wwI maybe able to give you back your darling son's dying kiss."

~ From a letter to a patient's mother from Euphemia Goldsborough, of Baltimore, who went to Gettysburg to care for wounded Confederates.

"I went to the church, where men were lying [on] the pews and on the floors. I knelt by the first one inside the door and said: "What can I do for you?" He replied: "Nothing, I am going to die." ... To be thus met by the first one adressed was more than my nerves could stand and I went hastily out, sat down on the church steps and cried.
In a little while I re-entered the church hospital and spoke again to the dying man. He was Sergeant Alexander Stewart of the 149th Pennsylvania Infantry Regiment.
He lingered until Monday, July 6...I held him in my arms until nearly 11 when his head sank on the pillow and he died with only a slight struggle."

~ From the diary of Elizabeth Salome Myers, resident of Gettysburg, who began nursing wounded soldiers at the Roman Catholic church on July 2.

"Two [friends] came [to help], but one only stayed two days, then got deathly sick and left. The other stayed five days, then he went away very sick, and I had to pay their fare here and very good wages for their work...And then father and I had to dig on harder again. They kept on burying the soldiers until they had the National Cemetery ready, and in that time we buried one hundred and five soldiers. In front of this house there were fifteen dead horses and beside the Cemetery there were nineteen in that field. So you may know it was only excitement that helped me to do all the work, with all of that stench.

~ From the diary of Elizabeth Thorn, caretaker of the local cemetery in her husband's absence. She was obliged to dig graves despite being six months pregnant.