Sunday morning before
breakfast,
Tompkins' Farm, Three Miles From Gauley Bridge,
October 27, 1861.
Dear Uncle: —
It is a bright October morning. Ever since the great storms a month ago, we
have had weather almost exactly such as we have at the same season in Ohio —
occasional rainy days, but much very fine weather. We are still waiting events.
Our winter's work or destination yet unknown. Decided events near Washington
will determine our course. We shall wait those events several weeks yet before
going into winter quarters. If things remain there without any events, we shall
about half, I conjecture, build huts here and hereabouts, and the rest go to
Ohio, and stay there, or go to Kentucky or Missouri as required. I hope and
expect to be of the half that leaves here. But great events near Washington are
expected by the powers that be, and it looks, as you see, some like it.
I have been occupied the whole week trying cases before a
court-martial. Some painful things, but on the whole, an agreeable time. While
the regiment is in camp doing nothing, this business is not bad for a change.
The paymasters are here at last, making the men very happy
with their pretty government notes and gold. The larger part is taken
(seven-eighths) in paper on account of the bother in carrying six months' pay
in gold. Each regiment will send home a very large proportion of their pay —
one-half to three-fifths.
The death of Colonel Baker is a national calamity, but on
the whole, the war wears a favorable look. Lucy says you are getting ready to
shelter us when driven from Cincinnati. All right, but if we are forced to
leave Cincinnati, I think we can't stop short of the Canada line. There is no
danger. These Rebels will go under sooner or later. I know that great battles
are matters of accident largely. A defeat near Washington is possible, and
would be disastrous enough, but the Southern soldiers are not the mettle to
carry on a long and doubtful war. If they can get a success by a dash or an
ambuscade, they do it well enough, but for steady work, such as finally
determines all great wars, our men are far superior to them. With equal
generalship and advantages, there is a perfect certainty as to the result of a
campaign. Our men here attack parties, not guerrillas merely, but uniformed
soldiers from North Carolina, Georgia, South Carolina, etc., of two or three
times their number with entire confidence that the enemy will run, and they
do. They cut us up in ambuscades sometimes, and with stratagems of all
sorts. This sort of things delays, but it will not prevent, success if our
people at home will pay the taxes and not tire of it. Breakfast is ready.
Sincerely,
R. B. Hayes.
P. S. — You hear a great deal of the suffering of soldiers.
It is much exaggerated. A great many lies are told. The sick do suffer. A camp
and camp hospitals are necessarily awful places for sickness, but well men, for
the most part, fare well — very well. Since I have kept house alone as
judge-advocate, my orderly and clerk furnish soldiers' rations and nothing
else. It is good living. In the camp of the regiment we fare worse than the
rest, because the soldiers are enterprising and get things our lazy darkies
don't.
Warm bedding and clothing will be greatly needed in the
winter, and by troops guarding mountain passes. The supply should be greater
than the Government furnishes. Sewing Societies, etc., etc., may do much good.
The Government is doing its duty well. The allowance is ample for average service;
but winter weather in mountains requires more than will perhaps be allowed.
S. Birchard.
SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and
Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 122-4
No comments:
Post a Comment