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
No comments:
Post a Comment