July 1, 1863
There is a war. It was told to never hit here but it did. A war in Gettysburg. I shutter just to think of it. Ma is trying to help by healing the soilders. More and more flood into our home. Some I whisper comforting words to but some- they be to far gone. The roads run red with their sweat and blood. It makes me miserable even by this candlelight to hear their moaning. I try to help but even I- all but fifeteen years of age- shutter at the sight of the men, blood running down into their mouths. Yet this is but day one! What horrors await us! How long shall this last? How many shall yet die. only in this one house- seventeen miles from the battlefield has had five men die. My father is still away. We are not sure if he is here or away. He is aganist the slavery of man. I see not why we need to fight over it, though I do agree with him. I hear more moans. I might as well go see what it is.
July 2,1863
In my haste I forgot to open this new journal. I am Sarah, daughter of General Morris and Lady Mary. My father is away, to fight in this ' Civil War'. 'Tis petty , this war, the sake of so many lives on one foolish request. President Licoln should see this house! 'Tis filled to the brim with wounded and dead. There came a man just this morning, his tendon torn apart by a bullet. My mother had no chice but to cut of his leg. Oh the blood! I will never again see so much again. Oh dear Lord forgive me for critizizing my authorities. I be sorry but my heart speaks my truth.
July 3, 1863
I did not sleep last night. There is but no room and I must help my mother. The soilders are coming in less now but they tell tales of victory. I wish my heart to be lifted but their eyes speak tales of sadness. The rebels of the bunch tell the tales of men dieing, of both sides. I sit here rocking back and forth fearing my father is dead. Lieing on the ground, bullet in his chest. Stop it. I will not speak of such foolish thoughts. I wish they would tell me more, but each remaine tight lipped. I shall hope it for a good cause.
July 4, 1863
I write this with haste but 'tis important.The war is over!A man came in an hour ago, singing the joyful news. Then in my excitement, I did forget only the Gettysburg war is over. Many more lives shall be lost in the Civil war. I will not let that thought dim my mind. We have released some soilders but have many more days of healing left to us. Yet 'tis victory! The soilders tell me of their reasons and I belive I am seeing the light. They belive so much! I admire them so! They are still horses to try to fight. 'Least I see their resons. Shan't that be enough?
Gender:
Points: 3558
Reviews: 131