Diary of Musician David Lane, October 9, 1862

Pleasant Valley, October 9th, 1862.

We moved from Antietam day before yesterday, in order, as reported, to be nearer our supplies. However, as soldiers know nothing of movements until after they are made, we may leave here today. As I was writing the last sentence, I learned we are to move this afternoon, about two miles, where we will have more room and better accommodations. The order to march is always welcome to me. I hate the monotony of camp life. The same is true of nearly all our regiment. We want to finish up our work and go home to our families—for nearly all have families. From our old camp to the present one is about twelve miles—the toughest twelve miles I ever traveled. Our route lay over the Elk Ridge Mountain, about six miles winding up its steep, rocky sides, the remaining half down the opposite side, the midday sun pouring his fierce rays against its rocky surface, making the heat well-nigh unbearable. There was not even a whispering breeze to cool our throbbing brows. Two men of our brigade melted down and died, while hundreds fell out by the way and came straggling into camp next morning. The movement was foolishly conducted on the principle of a forced march when there was no call for haste. I was quite lame at the time, having cut a deep gash in my heel a few days before, which compelled me to walk on the toe of that foot. This made walking over such a road and for so long a distance rather difficult. I fell behind the regiment for the first time, but came into camp about sundown. Some companies left nearly every man by the roadside.

On Friday Robert Covert and myself went down to the river to wash our clothing. The day was hot, and Robert went in to bathe. I was sitting on the shore, in company with others of my regiment, dreamily watching the sportive antics of the bathers, when my attention was attracted to Robert by what I thought to be a peal of laughter.

With an exclamation of horror I sprang to my feet. "My God, boys, he's sinking, drowning!" He had made but two or three strokes when taken with cramps and rendered helpless. I will long remember the pleading look, the agonized cry, as he rose to the surface. There was no time for thought; he was going down the second time; in a moment he will be beyond our reach. I cannot swim, but I seized a long pole and plunged in. It was not quite long enough to reach the place where he went down, but at that instant a man stripped for a swim rushed past me, and, holding to the end of my pole, threw his shirt to Robert as he came to the surface. He caught it, and we pulled him to the shore.

I am frequently asked how I like soldiering. For a wonder, I am not disappointed. If anything, it is more endurable than I expected to find it. There are hardships as a matter of fact, it is all hardship—but I was prepared for all that. I expected to suffer—to endure—and find myself the gainer by it. While others say: "If I had known, I would not have enlisted," I can say with truth I am glad I did. If I can be of service to my country, I will be satisfied. That which troubles and annoys me most, others do not seem to mind. It is the intolerable, nauseating stench that envelops a military camp. My olfactories have become SO acutely sensitive I can smell an encampment "afar off." Many complain of the strictness of military discipline. That does not trouble me. The law is a "terror to evil doers.” I am thankful for the many kind friends I have found here. I hail with delight the President's proclamation. I believe it is a step in the right direction.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 15-7

Diary of Musician David Lane, December 9, 1862

Camp near Fredericksburg, Dec. 9th, 1862.

It has been a long time—fully five weeks since I made the last entry in this journal. The forced marches, exposure, and insufficient food of the week preceding our arrival at this place had been too much even for me. It had rained or snowed almost continuously; we were out of reach of our supply train for seven days. Food gave out, but on we pressed. When we halted on the evening of our arrival, too utterly worn out to pitch a tent, I spread my blanket on the ground, threw myself upon it and slept the sleep of exhaustion. It rained during the night, and when I awoke I found myself lying in a pool of water that half covered me. My recollection of what occurred for several successive days is very vague; I knew I was being cared for by somebody, somewhere; I had no cares, no anxious doubts or perplexing fears. If in pain, I had not sense to realize it. One morning after, I do not know how many days, I awoke to consciousness; I heard a well-remembered step tripping across the floor and stop at my bedside, a soft, cool hand was pressed upon my brow; a sweet, familiar voice whispered in my ear: "You are better, dear; you will get well now." Nay, do not smile, thou unbelieving cynic, for from that hour—yes, from that instant—I began to mend. I learned afterward that I had been very low with some form of fever; that I was not taken to the hospital because my kind friend and comrade, Orville Collier, had begged the privilege of nursing me in his own tent. I can now sit up, can walk about a little, and hope soon to be well.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 22

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, May 27, 1862

Hanover County, V a.,        

May 27, 1862.

We have just finished a forced march of about forty miles, and have fallen back from near Fredericksburg to within ten miles of Richmond. The Yankees intended to take the Richmond and Potomac Railroad, so we came to reinforce the army already stationed here.

We started last Saturday about dark and continued to travel over the bad, muddy roads all night. We had a very tedious march and did not stop except to get the artillery out of the mire, and at one time to eat and rest a little. Whenever the men would come to mud holes and fords of rivers they would plunge right in without hesitating a moment. This is necessary, because an army must never be allowed to hesitate at anything.

Our brigade consists of the Twelfth, Thirteenth and Fourteenth South Carolina and the Thirty-eighth North Carolina regiments, and is commanded by General Maxey Gregg.

Our division is about fifteen thousand strong and is commanded by General Joseph R. Anderson. It extended several miles, and whenever we would get into a long, straight piece of road where I could look back the sight was most amazing. The compact mass moved four deep, and, with their glittering guns, looked like a river of human beings.

I stood the march finely, and your brother Edwin did not seem to be jaded at all, neither did Billie. Coppock was too sick to move, so we left him behind; but I do not believe he will fall into the hands of the enemy. They are not advancing in that direction. We have been living on crackers and bacon, but I got a fine breakfast this morning on the road. General Gregg and his staff were present and I had the honor of being introduced to them all.

There is little doubt but that we shall get into a fight very soon, possibly before you receive this letter. There must be fighting somewhere on the line now, for I hear the booming of field pieces. We are well prepared for them, and whether we whip them or not they cannot whip us badly.

Take good care of yourself and George.

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 10-12

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: January 19, 1862

This morning we receive orders to pack up and move back to Fort Holt. We cross the creek on an old flat-boat bridge. The roads are terrible. We find it a very fatiguing tramp. We arrive at Fort Holt in the evening, almost exhausted by the hard march. All seem glad to again be ushered into their comfortable quarters.

For some days the effect of the forced march in mud and rain, through the swamps of Kentucky are felt by the Seventh. The remaining part of the month we remain quietly at Fort Holt, though sometimes it seemed that the rapid rise of the Ohio would compel us to evacuate, but the waters subsided without submerging us.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 23

Major Wilder Dwight: September 3, 1862

Washington, D. C., September 3, 1862

After an experience of sixteen days here, I am humiliated, exhausted, yet well and determined.

The history of Pope's retreat, without a line and without a base, is a military novelty. We lived on the country, with a witness, — green corn and green apples. Twice cut off by the enemy, — everything in discomfort and confusion.

Forced marches, wakeful bivouacs, retreat, retreat. O, it was pitiful! and now a whole city full, here at Washington begins to feel our presence. Bah!

The regiment has behaved well, the brigade has behaved well. Charley's accident was funny. He was taken from his horse in a mêlée, but Colonel Taylor assures me unhurt and lively.* It is the family luck. I will write more when I can, and when I have been to sleep. I am perfectly well, and in as good spirits as can be expected. Have got a large mail to-day. Thanks for letters. Love to all at home.

Keep —— there. The service is not for the young; and though the race seems to be to the swift, the battle is not yet to the strong.

_______________

* Lieutenant Charles Dwight, of General Sickles's staff, while leading a charge on the enemy, was taken prisoner during the battle of Bristow Station, August, 1862.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 285

Major Wilder Dwight: Monday, March 24, 1862

winchester, Virginia (again), March 24, Monday.

I've only a minute in which to send you greeting. Again are we hurried by a forced march, over rough roads, to see the dregs and debris of a battle, — heaps of wounded, dying, and dead. Well, again fortune is against us. We left here on Saturday morning for Centreville. The bridge across the Shenandoah broke, and luckily delayed us. Back we were ordered at midnight of last night. An angry, bitter, well-fought fight followed, yesterday afternoon, upon an artillery duel which had occupied nearly all day. So little did any one know it was coming, that General Banks went up to Harper's Ferry at three, P. M., and the sharp fight commenced at four! The battle-ground was that on which my pickets had been posted until we left town. It seems to have been an exhibition of dogged courage by unruled and undisciplined soldiers.

So we go The lees and flatness of the sparkling goblet of victory are all that we taste. Jackson and Ashby are clever men. We are slow-w-w!

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 215-6

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Thursday, April 7, 1864

Muddy under foot, but sunshiny and warm; received a letter from home; all well there; have not been very busy to-day; men working hard building cabins in the new camp four or five hundred yards away; will probably complete it in season to break camp in when the spring campaign opens. It's a handsome camp, every cabin being exactly alike, commodious and is symmetrically laid out, the handsomest I ever saw. But the Tenth Vermont leads the army in such a way and is the pride of general officers from army headquarters down; it is just the same in drill, parade, forced marching, fighting or any place it is put. The men have great esprit de corps, and strive not to be outdone by any other regiment in anything. Were it not that the men's minds are kept occupied, I should doubt the expediency of putting so much work into a new camp so late in the season, but they seem to enjoy it, so it's all right; it keeps them healthy and hard, too; besides, they will be in splendid shape for the campaign close at hand; there's no moon to-night but it's beautiful starlight; bands are serenading at division headquarters. In the stillness of the night the distance softens the splendid music and makes it enchanting. I sit outside alone in deep thought and dream over it. War is such a strange companion!

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 33-4

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: September 8, 1864

This morning comes in cool and very cloudy. An opportunity given us to send money home. I sent seventy dollars to put in bank. Did not wish to carry so much with me. One cannot tell what might happen to a soldier, for we remember that every battle kills a soldier. Orders came about ten A. M. to fall in, double quick. The result was we made a forced march across country, through muddy lots, until we came to Summit Point, near the Winchester Pike. A hard march that put us on the right of the line of battle. A march of about ten miles from Charlestown to Winchester Pike. Why it was a forced march in a cold rain storm, we cannot tell. It was through Virginia sticky mud. At this point all things seem to be quiet. Orders to make camp and put up our shelter tents. This all comes in the life of a soldier in the field during war. Obey orders and don't ask questions.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 122-3

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: July 30, 1864

This morning opens up very hot. Having a rest. Trying to break in my new shoes. A bad job for the feet, which are very sore. Early this afternoon, marching orders received. Confederate cavalry reported to be raiding into Pennsylvania and upper Maryland. Ordered to make a forced march. Fearful hot as we break camp and begin the march. Pushing on over Bolivar Heights down through Harper's Ferry, over the railroad bridge into Maryland. Many of the boys are dropping out on account of the severe heat, the sun beating down on us, and no air. New shoes, woolen stockings, sore feet, make me about sick, while pushing along. I was obliged to drop out by the roadside. A member of our company, George W. Cross, said he would drop out and stick to me. After the sun went down we pushed along. Came to a brook of good cold water. Gave my feet a good bath, after which I was able to push on. Found the regiment in camp for the night, after making a forced march of sixteen miles. Glad to get my shoes and stockings off for the night and get a little rest.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 107-8

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: June 27, 1864

Again on the march. I will be thankful if I can hold out until we get rations. Progress is very slow over these mountains. Roads are badly washed by the heavy rains. This is no time to repair roads. They are very dangerous, not only for the men, but also for the poor horses and mules drawing the cannons and heavy army wagons. Very few houses and not much settlement along these mountain roads, so that we see very few people.

After a forced march, about eighteen miles, came to a halt at the foot of the mountains. In the distance we saw what looked like wagons coming towards us. It proved to be farm wagons. The farmers offered their services to bring us rations. How thankful we were to meet them. Each man received two hardtack and a small piece of fresh meat. We were a foot-sore, hungry, ragged, dirty crowd of Uncle Sam's soldiers. Our suffering has been intense, over the mountains. The farmers informed us it was reported that Hunter's army was starving in the mountains. Raining very hard tonight.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 87

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: June 19, 1864

Last night, by a forced march, we overtook the army. It was a fearful night. Dark, a part of the time marching over rough roads, through lots, wading small streams, fighting back the rebel cavalry. Glad when daylight came, but no time to stop for rest this hot Sunday morning. Tired, foot-sore, hungry, and about played out, but must keep pushing on or be taken a prisoner. The cavalry are now covering the rear. Again passed through Liberty. A few miles from town, our regiment ordered to lie down behind a hill in ambush, to support the cavalry, they having got in the rear of the enemy. After a sharp fight they were routed, and many made prisoners. After these events we had a short rest and a feed of fresh meat. Detailed for guard with the wagon train for tonight.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 80-1

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: June 17, 1864

A cornfield was a rough place to sleep for a night, and try to rest. Up early this morning. After a hasty feed, again on the march, along the main pike to Lynchburg. Our advance is slow most of the time, as we drive the enemy along. At times it is hot work. General Hunter, for reasons best known to himself, has ordered the burning up of many fine old Virginia mansions with all the contents. Many fine appearing ladies weep while their homes are burning. All they can do is to look on. One cannot help but feel sorry for them. That is cruel war. When told it was done by order of the General, I heard one woman say, “I would like to pull the General's nose.” There were some great fires along that Lynchburg Pike. One report was that our men had been fired on from the houses that were burned. They were not all burned, along the pike. It is fight as we advance, at times, making a forced march. Late this P. M. we go into battle near Lynchburg. A hot one. The enemy routed, retire to their main earthworks, near town. We capture two field pieces and a number of prisoners. Darkness put an end to the fight. The battle is known to us as Quaker Church, four miles from Lynchburg. A line of battle having been formed, our guns were stacked, with orders to keep close in line. Getting a little feed, we dropped down on the ground to try and get a little sleep and rest. In front of Lynchburg, Virginia.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 78-9

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: June 5, 1864

Late last night our company detailed for picket duty. Located at the ford, near the town. It was a fearful, dark, rainy night. Every man was on duty and on the alert all night. By order of General Hunter a large woolen mill was burned this morning. I noticed a number of women were crying as the mill burned. It had been used to make cloth for the South. Death and destruction follows in the path of war. This is a quiet Sunday morning in old Connecticut. Here a battle is about to begin. Came off picket, ordered to join the regiment. After a forced march, about six miles, overtook the regiment, taking our position in the line. Soon skirmish firing began and grew hot. Our boys driving the Rebs as we advanced. About 7 A. M. the enemy opened fire on our line with batteries well posted on high hills, distance about two miles, getting range on our colors. At the time we were advancing by division front, when the shells began to come lively. Our Colonel's voice rang out clear “By division, into line, right and left, half wheel, forward, double quick.” The command was quickly executed as the regiment advanced in line through the open lots, taking the extreme right of the line of battle. We could plainly see all that was taking place in the open country. The enemy's line of battle was formed in a wooded field at the top of the highest hills. We were forced to jump brooks, some quite wide, and climb over fences, all this time under fire. We could not return the fire because of our skirmish line in our front, between us and the enemy.

Reaching the foot of the hill on which the enemy was posted, we were ordered to crawl up it on our hands and knees. Reaching the brow we were ordered to rise, at the same time the enemy poured a deadly volley into our ranks. A number fell, and the stock of my gun was shot off. As we started on a charge for the enemy in the woods they broke and ran. As we poured a sharp fire into their ranks, they left their first line of earthworks and fell back to the second. We continued the charge on through the woods, coming out into an open lot. Our Colonel being mounted, saw the second line of earthworks in the edge of another wooded field, commanded a halt, which was done after a while. Then we were ordered to fall back and re-form in the edge of the woods and to wait for orders. My gun having been shot and no good, I picked up another one on the field. I was very sorry to lose the old musket. A number of our boys had fallen. The enemy was strongly posted on another hill across an open field which we must charge through in order to get at them.

Orders came for us to take their works. A charge was again ordered, but we were ordered to fall back and reform. Another attempt was made to capture the works. Owing to our heavy loss the Colonel ordered us to fall back. Our regiment was holding the extreme right of the line. In the second charge across the field a bullet pierced my tin coffee cup, hanging on my haversack, making, as the boys said, two close calls for me. After the second charge our Colonel called for a battery, posted it in a good position on our right, where it did great execution. The enemy attempted to take the battery but we drove them back. A third charge was ordered across the open field. We were again obliged to fall back. The enemy's fire was too hot for us and we were losing many good fellows. In the third charge the colors went to the ground, the corporal of the color-guard, who was carrying them, being shot down. I jumped and picked up the flag, waving it and holding it up.

Later, orders came to prepare for another charge on the enemy's earth works. A desperate effort must be made to capture those works. As a signal, a cheer would ring out from the left of the line, extending to the right, for the entire length of the line, to charge. It was quickly done and the battle was won.

The enemy threw down their arms and were prisoners. In the fourth and final charge, the Confederate commander, Major General Wm. E. Jones, was killed. He was known as Billy Jones. I saw the dead commander lying on the field, he having been shot through the forehead. I also saw the flag of truce when the Confederates came for the body. I spoke to the escort, they telling me who the dead General was.

The day had been a long, hard one. We were under fire from 7 A. M. to 5 P. M. Sorrow came to us over our loss, but we must have something to eat in order to keep up. I carried several canteens over to the Shenandoah River, filled them. On my return I stopped to see a young wounded Confederate. Bathed his wound on his foot with the water from my own canteen. He thanked me kindly as he lay on the ground, patiently waiting for his turn to be cared for. After having rations I picked up a few blankets, visited the field hospital, and covered our boys over with them, as the nights were cool. It was a sickening sight to me. No more desire to visit a field hospital after a battle. I made my way back to our company in the dark. Lay down on the battle field for the night, for rest and sleep. Dead and wounded around us.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 68-70

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: May 27, 1864

Rain. Regiment ordered out into line about 3 A. M. This is done to guard against a surprise while we are in the enemy's country. Remained in line about two hours, then stacked arms and were dismissed and allowed to get our breakfast. This is a dark, rainy, dismal day in camp. Late this afternoon a battalion, 5th New York Heavy Artillery, came into camp, they having made a forced march, being ordered to join the army. We were old friends, having been in the same brigade during the winter of 1862-3. We greeted them with hearty cheers which they returned, while our Colonel and their Lieutenant-Colonel, who was in command, were shaking hands, while on horseback. Our company detailed for picket duty. Located on the extreme right of the picket line.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 63

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: May 15, 1864

Rain. Rain. On picket, wondering why we do not get relieved. It is past time for the relief to show up. Lieutenant Kerr sends a detail to camp to learn the cause. Returned in a short time, reported the regiment had left for parts unknown. The Lieutenant called in the pickets to the reserve headquarters in the woods. Formed company and were ready for action as we marched out of the woods to the pike, expecting to meet the enemy's scouts. Instead we met our own cavalry scouts who reported our regiment left in the night, going up the valley towards New Market. We started on after them, making a forced march, wet, tired, hungry, well used up. Some misunderstanding of orders was the cause of our being left on picket. It was a wonder to us that we did not meet the rebel cavalry and have a hot time, as they had been in this vicinity, scouting all around us. We were determined to put up a hot fight, had we met the enemy. Lieutenant Kerr kept urging us on, making a forced march up the pike. Duty having been so severe, and the lack of rations for the past few days, we were near used up. The last two miles of the march we ran, and joined the regiment as they were going into action, having made a march of sixteen miles with hardly a rest, and very little to eat.

Colonel Moore, Commander of our brigade, pushed our regiment and an Ohio regiment, with a section of a battery, two field guns, about six miles in advance of the main army, bringing on a general engagement. We could not hold the enemy in check as they advanced with a long line of battle. Our battery fell back. The Ohio regiment followed, when our commander, Lieutenant-colonel Peale, gave the command to our regiment, “By the right of companies, to the rear in column,” so we continued to march until we met the 34th Massachusetts Regiment, coming running up with a battery, taking a good position. The enemy was held in check, but for a short time. Sigel managed to get his main force in line, batteries posted, so the enemy was held in check. Our brigade suffered heavy loss. Some of the field pieces had to be abandoned as the horses had been killed and we were in too much mud to draw them away, or back to the main line. It looked to us like a case of mismanagement.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 59-61

Major Rutherford B. Hayes to Sophia Birchard Hayes, September 4, 1861

On Road To Sutton, South From

Weston, September 3 [4], 1861.

Dear Mother: — We are having great times with forced marches over the hills. It agrees with me. I get all letters by couriers very promptly. . . .

We go south under General Rosecrans. All things look encouragingly. We meet friends constantly and unexpectedly.  . . . On Sunday we had church in camp, with a Presbyterian Congregation of Yankees who came here forty-five years ago. We occupied their church for shelter. They treated us most hospitably. All from Massachusetts and retaining the thrift, morality, and loyalty of their native State, or rather of the State of their fathers, for most of them were born here.

Affectionately,

R. B. Hayes.

Mrs. Sophia Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 85

Major Rutherford B. Hayes to Sardis Birchard, September 4, 1861

Bulltown, September 3, [4], 1861.

Dear Uncle: — All your letters come safely; got one of the 26th yesterday. Mail facilities coming this way are perfect.

We are now under General Rosecrans in person going south toward Summersville, through Sutton, until we meet the enemy unless he leaves western Virginia. Unless overwhelmingly superior in numbers, we shall beat him, accidents always excepted. Our numbers are not, perhaps, as great as we would wish, but you must remember we are over one hundred miles from a railroad and bad roads (not very bad) to haul supplies. It is physically impossible to supply a very large army without a very long preparation. The wagon-trains would actually impede each other, if you were to attempt to crowd too fast, faster than we are now doing.

Take it easy, we shall clean them out in time, if the people at home will hold on and be persevering and patient.

We have had the severest experience soldiers are required to bear, except a defeat; viz, forced marches without shelter, food, or blankets over mountain bridle-paths, in the night and rain. Many fail. My little horse came out well and sound again, the best in the regiment. The doctor's gave out and was left. I gain strength and color; a little flesh perhaps. Never before so healthy and stout. You will hear first of our welfare in the [Cincinnati] Commercial. Their “special correspondent” wrote a letter in my tent this A. M. Good-bye.

Sincerely,

R. B. Hayes.

S. BlRCHARD.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 84-5

Major Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, September 4, 1861

Bulltown, September 3, [4], 1861.  Wednesday Morning.

Dearest: — Let me say first that the army mail arrangement is perfect. All letters are got promptly here. We march forty or sixty miles to a new point. We are hardly stopped at our destination on a sidehill, in a wood or meadow, before a courier steps up and hands us, privates and all, letters just from Clarksburg. For instance, we are seventy miles over mountains from our last camping place. I had not got off of Webby before a fellow came up, “Are you the Major?” and handed me a letter from you, 27th, from Mother, 26th, from Uncle, 26th, and half a dozen others all late. The same thing is happening all the time.

We have had a forced march without tents, cooking utensils, or knapsacks over a mountain road — bridle path. I came out first best. All the horses injured except Webby. . . .

Good time here. McCook gathered his whole regiment. They serenaded us and we them. The Ninth and Twenty-third swear by each other. They Dutch, we Yankees. General Rosecrans takes command here. We go south to Sutton, etc., until we meet the enemy. Shall not write often now.

Good-bye. Blessings, love, and kisses for all.

Affectionately,

R. B. Hayes.

Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 83-4