Camp Northwest Of Brookville, Maryland,
September 10, 1862.
Dearest: — We
are now about twenty-five or thirty miles northwest of Washington, about thirty
miles from Baltimore, in Maryland. The army is gradually moving up to operate
against the Rebels who have crossed the Potomac. We march about eight to twelve
miles a day — General Cox's Division always near the front, if not in front. We
are now in front. Captured a Rebel patrol last night. We subordinates know less
of the actual state of things than the readers of the Commercial at
home. Order is coming out of chaos. The great army moves on three roads five or
eight miles apart. Sometimes we move in the night and at all other hours,
moving each subdivision about six or eight hours at a time in each twenty-four
hours. Some large body is moving on each road all the time. In this way the
main body is kept somewhere in the same region. General Burnside is our
commander. I have not yet seen him. He was cheered heartily, I am told,
yesterday when he met his troops below here. His Yankee regiments are much the
best troops we have seen East. “The Grand Army of the Potomac” suffers by
comparison with General Cox's or General Burnside's men. It is not fair,
however, to judge them by what we now see. They are returning [from] a severe
and unfortunate service which of necessity has broken them down.
We march through a well-cultivated, beautiful region — poor
soil but finely improved. I never saw the Twenty-third so happy as yesterday.
More witty things were said as we passed ladies, children, and negroes (for the
most part friendly) than I have heard in a year before. The question was always
asked, “What troops are those,” or “Where are you from?” The answers were “Twenty-third
Utah,” “Twenty-third Bushwhackers,” “Twenty-third Mississippi,” “Drafted men,” “Raw
Recruits,” “Paroled prisoners,” “Militia going home,” “Home Guards,” “Peace
Men,” “Uncle Abe's children,” “The Lost Tribes,” and others “too numerous, etc.”
Nearly all the bands are mustered out of service; ours therefore is a novelty
We marched a few miles yesterday on a road where troops have not before
marched. It was funny to see the children. I saw our boys running after the
music in many a group of clean, bright-looking, excited little fellows.
What a time of it they have in Cincinnati? I got a dispatch
from Mr. Clements yesterday saying I was discharged ten days ago by the War
Department to take command of the Seventy-ninth, but I get no official notice
of it, and at present can't get leave to go and see to it. If the place is not
filled by somebody else I shall join the new regiment before the end of the
month, I suspect. I have no particular preference or wish about it, but having
said that I will join if leave is given, I shall do so unless in the meanwhile
some change in affairs takes place to justify a different course.
I can hardly think the enemy will carry his whole or main
force into Maryland and risk all upon a battle here. If not he will probably
withdraw on the approach of our army. If he does, I can then get leave of
absence.
Kisses and love to all the boys. Love to Grandma and the
dear friends you are among. I feel very grateful for their kindness to you and
the boys. I think of you now almost as constantly as you do of me.
I have very little care or responsibility. The men behave
well, and are always ready. I got into an angry altercation with Major-General
Reno who was in a passion and abusive to some of my men; the men cheered me as
he rode off, which made a little difficulty, but I am told he is ashamed of it,
and it led to no trouble.
Good-bye, darling. “I love you so much.”
Affectionately, yours
ever,
R.
Mrs. Hayes.
SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and
Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 350-1
No comments:
Post a Comment