Colonel Luce is Dead

Colonel Constant C. Luce, one of the old pioneers of Michigan is dead at Monroe. He was commander of the famous Michigan “Stonewall” regiment, which was conspicuous at the battle of South Mountain, Md.

SOURCE: “Colonel Luce is Dead,” Port Huron Daily Times, Port Huron, Michigan, Monday, March 2, 1903

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, Monday, September 15, 1862

Two men in the guard-house. We are improving. Baltimore whiskey got into the camp some way and these men found it. At dress parade to-night, a dispatch was read to us saying a great battle had been fought and a great victory won by McClellan. We gave three cheers that must have reached the scene of battle. It has set us up wonderfully.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 27

Diary of Musician David Lane, September 21, 1862

Maryland Heights, Va., September 21st, 1862.

Toward evening of the 13th we left Frederic City and marched out on the National Turnpike toward South Mountain, and halted for supper and a few hours rest near Middleton. It was nearly midnight. We had made a rapid march of several miles, and were tired, and hungry as wolves. Hardly had we stacked arms when Lieutenant Rath inquired: "Where's John Conley?" John could not be found; he was already off on an expedition of his own. "Well, then," said Rath, "send me the next best thief; I want a chicken for my supper."

Our foragers soon returned; the Lieutenant got his chicken, and we privates were fairly well supplied with the products of the country. It strikes me as a little strange, the facility with which a soldier learns to steal his grub. It must be the effect of heredity. Perhaps, in the dim past, when our ancestors went on "all fours," and roamed the forests in search of food; possibly at a more recent date, but before a name was given to the deed; they formed the habit of taking what they wanted wherever it could be found, provided they had the physical power, or mental cunning, to accomplish it, and this habit, thus formed, became instinct, and was transmitted to their descendants. At daylight we were on the move, headed for South Mountain. We had an inkling—how obtained I do not know; mental telepathy, perhaps, that occult, mysterious power that enables us to divine the most secret thoughts of men-that a mass meeting was to be held on that eminence to discuss the pros and cons of secession, and that we, the Seventeenth, had received a pressing invitation to be present. The Pike was in fine condition. Our men stepped off briskly, with long, swinging strides that carried them rapidly over the ground. We marched in four ranks, by companies, and were led by our gallant Colonel Withington. Company G was seventh from the front, which gave me a view of over half the regiment. And it was good to look upon. Only two weeks from home, our uniforms were untarnished. Dress coats buttoned to the chin; upon our heads a high-crowned hat with a feather stuck jauntily on one side. White gloves in our pockets; a wonder we did not put them on, so little know we of the etiquette of war.

As we neared the mountain, about nine o'clock in the morning, I scanned its rugged sides for indications of the presence of our friends, the enemy, and, as I looked, I saw a puff of smoke, and on the instant a shell sped howling above our heads, bursting some half a mile beyond.

Every man of us "bowed his acknowledgments;" then, as by one impulse, every spine became rigid; every head was tossed in air; as if we would say: "My Southern friend, we did the polite thing that time. No more concessions will you get from us and—may God have mercy on your souls." Of our exploits on South Mountain I will not write. They will be woven into history and will be within the reach of all. About thirty of our brave boys were killed, and over one hundred wounded. Captain Goldsmith was wounded in the shoulder and Lieutenant Somers in the side. A number of Company G boys were wounded, but none were killed in this battle.

Eli Sears, the best, the most universally beloved of the regiment, is dead. He died the second day after the battle. A rifle ball, early in the engagement, struck him in the left breast and passed entirely through him. When I saw him he was so low he could only speak in whispers. He gave me his hand, with a pleasant smile, and told me he had but a few more hours to live. Bitterly do I mourn his loss. So kind, so thoughtful, always preferring another to himself. He died as heroes die, as calm and peaceful as an infant on its mother's breast. Albert Allen, Carmi Boice and Charlie Goodall were in the thickest of the fight and escaped unhurt.

The Seventeenth has been baptised in blood and christened "Stonewall." The battle of Antietam was fought on Wednesday, September 17th, three days after South Mountain. The Seventeenth did not lose so many in killed—eighteen or twenty, I think, although the list is not yet made out—and eighty or ninety wounded. Company G lost three killed, among whom was Anson Darling. We crossed the Antietam River about 1 p. m., and about three o'clock charged up the heights, which we carried, and advanced to near Sharpsburg. Here, our ammunition giving out, we fell back behind the hill and quietly sat down ’mid bursting shells and hurtling balls until relieved. As we sat waiting, a spent ball—a six-pounder—struck a tree in front of us. Not having sufficient momentum to penetrate, it dropped back upon the toe of my comrade on my left. With a fierce oath he sprang to his feet and shouted, "Who the h--l? Oh!"

That night, while on picket, when all my comrades were wrapped in slumber, and silence reigned where, a few hours before, the tumult of battle raged, my willing thought turned to my Northern home. The most vivid pictures arose before me—so real—could they be imagination? And as I gazed upon these fancied visions and pressed them to my soul as a living reality, I asked myself the question, "Can this be homesickness?" The answer came, quick and decisive: No; I have never seen the time—even for one short moment—that I could say to myself, “If I had not enlisted, I would not." On the contrary, if, after the little experience I have had, and the little knowledge I have gained, I had not enlisted, I would do so within the hour.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 10-13

Brigadier-General Rutherford B. Hayes to Sardis Birchard, February 19, 1865

CUMBERLAND, MARYLAND, February 19, 1865.

Dear Uncle:— Yours of [the] 17th received today. I will send you five hundred dollars by express tomorrow.

It is in interest-bearing notes. Are they worth any more to you than other funds? We are paid a good deal of it.

A cripple of my regiment from Fremont goes home in [a] day or two. I think he is a first-rate man — Lejune. [He] captured twenty-five Rebels at South Mountain. He was badly wounded at Antietam, and got well just in time to get awfully hurt at Cloyd's Mountain.

Sincerely,

R. B. HAYES.

S. BIRCHARD.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 559

Diary of Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: September 13, 1863

Sunday a year ago was the 14th. South Mountain and its losses and glories. How the sadness for the former fades and the satisfaction with the latter grows!

General Burnside has east Tennessee. Knoxville ours; Cumberland Gap taken, and our forces on the railroad nearly to Bristol. Knoxville to Bristol one hundred and thirty miles; Bristol to depot at bridge one hundred and seven; total two hundred and thirty-seven. Charleston to bridge one hundred and sixty-six.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 435

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, September 18, 1862

Address:

Capt. W. T. Lusk, A. A. A. Gen.

1st. Brig. 1st. Div. 9th. A. C.

Washington, D. C.

(To be forwarded)

Sept. 18th, 1862.

My dearest Mother:

After the battle of South Mountain, as we were being pushed on to this point (near Sharpsburg), unable to write myself, the Chaplain of the 79th kindly promised to inform you of my safety. Yesterday there was another fierce battle in which I took an active part, but he who lends a pitying ear to the prayers of the widow and the fatherless, vouchsafed to spare me in the time of danger. To-morrow I suppose there will be another battle, so to-night, though it is late, I write you hurriedly. Our successes in Maryland have been signal. We have been cheered for the bloodshed of the past few days by the sight of a retreating foe. God grant us such victories as may speedily end the war. All wish for peace, and so are willing to fight with desperation. Our division has done splendidly so far.

I long to hear from home. Your letter of the 25th of August, telling me that I was an unsuccessful candidate for position in the 18th Conn., is the last news I have received from home. Well, my fate is the fate of thousands. Those of us who have borne all the dangers and privations of the past, have no pretensions in comparison with such as can control a few votes in a country parish. I have taken part now in seven grand battles, and over a half dozen smaller engagements, have been constantly in service for fifteen months, have received the most gratifying expression of the esteem of my superior officers, but promotion is not the result of service according to our present system. In my old position as Acting Asst. Adjt.-General to the Division, with a change of Generals, I was superseded by a private of the 7th Regiment of New-York, who received a Commission from the President. This is perfectly right, as each General must choose his own Adjutant and form his own staff. Of the fifteen months I have held a Commission, fourteen months I have held acting appointments, that is, have had the labor and responsibility of various positions without the emolument. I am now Acting A. A. General to the first Brigade of this division, the regular pay of which position is between $160 and $170 per month. Holding only an acting appointment I receive $120.00. There is not much encouragement in this, but still I am content to be of any assistance, or to do my duty in any position which may be allotted me. I fear my old friends who hoped for much, feel more distressed than I do. I saw Charley Farnsworth in Washington. He feels that he has done much, and has received only neglect in return. His wound troubles him still, and I think he is not sorry to make it a pretext for quitting a service where there is no glory, no recognition of service to promote and foster a soldier's pride. Charley is a fine fellow, and his parents may feel proud of him.

I have had those two bad teeth of mine extracted. Tried a Regimental Surgeon first. Surgeon breaks one of them off, and I decline to have the experiment repeated — suffer all sorts of agony for about a month. At Frederick find a regular dentist who feels confident that he can draw any tooth. I let him try first the one not already partially operated upon. Dentist puts on the forceps and crushes in one side, then cuts the gum, tries again — pleasantly assures me he can do it, and crunch goes the old tooth again. Dentist grows radiant and tells how he extracted twelve from one lady the day before, and is more confident than ever that he can do it; puts on his forceps and by a succession of wrenches breaks the crown of the tooth, lays it complacently on a sheet of paper, and says that is just what he most ardently desired; makes another effort, smashes the root, and with the face of an angel, tells me it's all right — that now he can do it. Here human endurance failed. I objected to any further torture, took chloroform, sank into a state of insensibility, recovered minus two teeth, and all right.

Good-bye, dear, darling mother, keep up good heart. God is merciful as well as just. Love to all the dear ones.

Affec'y.,

Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 199-202

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Captain William Thompson Lusk, September 17, 1862

17th. To-day our rejoicing is somewhat subdued by the news of the surrender of our forces at Harper's Ferry. Burnside's corps is said to have fought splendidly at South Mountain; Reno's Command is highly complimented, not a man faltered. I am so longing for another letter from you. I see the 79th was in the recent engagements. It seems they are always where work is to be done. I saw too that Capt. Pier, of whom I have heard Dr. Elliott speak, was slightly wounded. I trust you have escaped unhurt, that God's good angels have guarded you, and brought you safely through. I noticed the names of one or two from Co. K, 79th, among the wounded. Uncle John's faith in Gen. Pope remains firm. Mine is lost, yet I wish all to receive full justice, and am very glad to discover merit among our officers; our men are almost beyond praise.

Miss Abby Bond (Dr. Bond's daughter) is to be married to-day, to a Mr. Adriance from St. Louis. Nannie Day has come up to attend the wedding. Hunt is in good spirits this morning; he sends love, thinks you are doing great things, and hopes the ball now in motion, will move until the great end for which it was started, is accomplished. He says he sees McClellan has been under a chiropodist, and he is glad to see so glorious a result.

Again, good-bye, my own dear son. I pray that you, so marvellously preserved as a soldier of our country, may likewise always remain a soldier of the Cross. God bless you, guard you, guide you, wherever you may be.

With much love from all, I remain, my precious son,

Always your loving

Mother.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 198-9

Chaplain James C. Wyatt to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, September 15, 1862

MIDDLETOWN, MD.

Sept. 15th, 1862.

Mrs. Lusk:

Capt. Lusk desired me to pen you a line, as he did not have the time or opportunity, informing you that he has passed through another bloody and fearful carnage and is spared and in good health. I met him this morning as I was returning to the General Hospital at this place. The enemy has been badly beaten. Our Regt. has not suffered much comparatively. You have reason to be proud of your son. May God bless him and protect him.

Yours truly,

JAs. C. Wyatt,

Chaplain 79th N. Y. V.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 197

Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, March 21, 1863

Camp White, March 21, 1863.

Dearest: — You left this morning. Don't think I am going daft after you. I am in my tent facing the parade between the captains and companies. McKinley is in his. The doctor, Avery, and [the] major will come over tomorrow. I shall sleep in a tent tonight for the first time since the night before South Mountain — over six months ago. . . .

Did you see us crossing in our boats before your steamer passed? I saw you and swung my hat, but whether you saw me I could not tell.

Our house flag must come out to go on a high pole near headquarters if it is militarily proper, and I think it is. . . . Goodbye, darling.

As ever,

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 394-5

Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, January 4, 1863

Camp Reynolds, January 4, 1863

Dearest: — The same old camp, but “Reynolds,” after our gallant Sergeant-Major Eugene M., [L. Reynolds] who was killed at South Mountain.

I am glad you are all well and happy with the uncles and “all the boys.” Yes, I confess I did forget the 30th.¹ Strange, too. I had thought of it a few days before. I did not neglect to think of you. That I do daily; but nothing occurred to call to mind the happy day. A white day in my calendar — the precursor of the ten happiest years. On the 30th we were all agog with the order and movements connected with General Ewing's departure with four of our regiments. This may have caused the lapse.

We had none of your bad weather. This [the] morning opened rainy, windy, and turbulent, but by 2 P. M. it was warm, bright, and serene. At our evening parade I made a little address on the New Year and the past. I'll send you it to be put in the archives.

It is Sunday evening and our cook, Frank Halpin (the best tenor going), with three or four Company A comrades are singing in the kitchen. “Magnif!”

In the very worst of the rain-storm this morning, an ambulance passed with Mrs. Brown, her son, and Ed Cook. Ed is sick, decidedly, not as yet dangerously. He refuses to go home because he has been home sick already. Plucky. Perhaps it's as well, although I rather urged his going. He will go to Cannelton, where the regiment is now stationed, and will be well cared for. Mrs. Brown takes the captain home. I suspect Ike [Nelson]² will soon be captain of the company. Brown is not able to stand service, I think. Ike now commands the company.

Send me Rud's picture, and another installment of mine, for distribution.

If not costing more than about a couple of dollars, I wish Joe would bring me Adam Smith's “Wealth of Nations,” also “Lucile.” The first large print. At Gallipolis or somewhere he better get three or four split-bottomed or other cheap chairs — none but cheap— [and] a cheap square looking-glass.

I am still busy trying to conquer the mud. We are very comfortable but a sprinkling of snow or rain makes us ankle-deep where the sand is not put on. This and our little town gives me plenty to do. The lieutenant-colonel and major are both absent.

I shall be very glad to have you here. My only fear is possible ill health for the boys. There is less sickness than last year and by keeping carefully housed if the weather is bad, you will be safe. — Darling, much love for you and the dear ones at home.

Affectionately,

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

_______________

¹ The tenth anniversary of his marriage.

² Cook and Nelson, cousins of Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 383-4

Rutherford B. Hayes: The Dead of South Mountain and Antietam

Sergeant-Major Eugene L. Reynolds, of Bellefontaine. A bright, handsome, ambitious, soldierly youngster; brave as a lion; so game in appearance and conduct; cheerful, happy, and full of promise! Killed at the close of the day on the mountain top. Taken prisoner, says Captain Williams of the Twelfth, and attempting to escape, shot in the bowels and afterwards bayonetted through the forearm.

Corporal Bull, Company A. A fine-looking, amiable boy, always smiling. Killed at Antietam.

Wilson B. Harper, Franklin County. A Mark Tapley for jollity, large, healthy, industrious, and so anxious to please, he always agreed with you. Wounded badly in thigh at South Mountain and died after amputation a few days after. Cheerful to the last.

[List not completed.]

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 380

Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, December 14, 1862

Camp Maskell, December 14, 1862.

Dearest:— Very glad to have a good letter from you again. Very glad indeed the bag is found — glad you read the article of Dr. Holmes in the Atlantic Monthly. It is, indeed, a defense pat for your case. I knew you would like it. You must keep it. When we are old folks it will freshly remind us of a very interesting part of our war experience.

If the enchanted bag contains my spurs, and if they are both alike (which I doubt), you may send them to me when a good chance offers. The pair I now use are those worn by Lorin Andrews and given me by McCook. I don't want to lose them.

The fine weather of the past week has been very favorable for our business and we are getting on rapidly. The river is so low that a cold snap would freeze it up, and leave us “out in the cold” in a very serious way — that is, without the means of getting grub. This would compel us to leave our little log city and drive us back towards Ohio. . . .

One of our new second lieutenants — McKinley — a handsome bright, gallant boy, got back last night. He went to Ohio to recruit with the other orderly sergeants of the regiment. He tells good stories of their travels. The Thirtieth and Twelfth sergeants stopped at second-class hotels, but the Twenty-third boys “splurged.” They stopped at the American and swung by the big figure. Very proper. They are the generals of the next war.

I rode over to the Eighty-ninth. Promising boys over there. I like the cousins much. Ike Nelson is a master spirit. The others will come out all right.

Yes, darling, these partings don't grow any easier for us, but you don't regret that, I am sure. It will be all the pleasanter when it is all over. How is your health? Is all right with you? Your sake, not mine. Thanks for the Harper and Atlantic, mailed me by Stephenson. Love to all.

Conners whom we saw at Frederick is not dead. He returned safely last night. All the wounded are gathering in except the discharged. Sergeant Tyler whom we saw with his arm off at Frederick is in a bad way — others doing well. . . .

Affectionately yours, ever,

R.

P. S. — Three months ago the battle of South Mountain. We celebrated it by climbing the mountain on the other side of the river to the castle-like-looking rocks which overlook the Falls of the Kanawha. Captains Hood, Zimmerman, Canby, Lovejoy and Lieutenant Bacon were of the party. Hood and I beat the crowd to the top. Hood, the worst wounded, up first. When I saw him shot through that day I little thought I would ever see him climbing mountains again.

Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 374-5

Diary of Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Monday, December 8, 1862

A cold morning, but a bright warm sun melts the snow on all the low ground. Lieutenant Smith says some of our prisoners at South Mountain heard my speech as we went into the fight. He says the colonel rode up, his eyes shining like a cat's, [and said:] “Now boys, remember you are the Twenty-third, and give them hell. In these woods the Rebels don't know but we are ten thousand; and if we fight, and when we charge yell, we are as good as ten thousand, by ——.”

WANTS.

A paymaster. Not paid since August and then only to June 30.

A Sawmill — or lumber (ten thousand feet); none yet, except eighteen hundred feet and old drift, etc., etc.

Window sash and nails.

Mess stores at Charleston and Gallipolis; privilege to send.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 372

Diary of Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Saturday, December 6, 1862

A cold morning. Snow, two to four inches, on the ground and more falling. Five wounded men returned last night, restored and ready for duty. Captain Haven's resignation having been accepted on account of ill health, he left us today He goes home to Bedford, Cuyahoga County. He exhibited great courage at Antietam and South Mountain. Appointed captain from sergeant, in violation of the rule of seniority, he encountered bitter prejudice as an officer, but his courage and good conduct overcame it. Success to him!

This morning I climbed the hill above the falls on this side of the Kanawha. Fine views of the wintry mountains, snow-clad and with dark green holly, laurel, and pine along their sides. The beautiful cold river beneath. Lucy thinks I am “dazed” on scenery.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 371

Diary of Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Wednesday, December 3, 1862

A bright, fine winter day. We moved our quarters fifty yards up the river into a house lately occupied by a daughter of Mr. Riggs. Its windows on the north side afford a good view of the river and of the Falls of the Kanawha. With our new cooks, two soldiers, we are living sumptuously — better than ever before since I have been in camp.

Signed a recommendation for Sergeant Chamberlain, Company A, as second lieutenant. Introduced to Captain Rigdon Williams, of the Twelfth. While at Middletown, Maryland, wounded, I heard he was killed, and on my return to Ohio I reported him killed. It was a Captain Liggett who was shot at South Mountain in the head.

The Rebels did not carry the American flag at Antietam to enable them to get into the rear of the Ohio troops. It was their battle-flag. Yet I have reported this, on good authority, as I thought. Our sergeant-major was probably killed attempting to escape from the enemy, although Lieutenant Ritter thinks — and I have reported — that he was killed pushing ahead of the regiment. So difficult it is with the best intentions and no motive to deceive, to get the truth of these battle incidents even from eyewitnesses. The men are building the new city very rapidly.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 369-70

Diary of Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Tuesday, December 2, 1862

Camp Maskell, near Gauley Bridge, West Virginia. — November 21, went on board [the] Izetta bound up the Ohio; 22d, grounded on a bar (crawfish) and stayed there until Wednesray, 26th. Found on board Captain Patterson, of General Morgan's staff, and family, and other agreeable passengers. Bid good-bye to Lucy, boys, and all, four times on different days. Reached camp Sunday P. M. with Captain Hood and Mr. Stover. A cold morning, but Indian-summer-like in the afternoon. Sunday evening, November 30, a jovial festive meeting in my shanty of all the officers, twenty-four or twenty-five in number. Fought over South Mountain and Antietam, with many anecdotes, much laughter, and enjoyment.

[Today], Tuesday, December 2, a cold morning, but a warm, pleasant day. Sun shone about four hours. Only four men sick in hospital.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 368

Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes: December 1, 1862

Camp Maskell, Gauley Bridge, December 1, 1862.

Dearest Lu: — We are on the south side of the Kanawha — same side as the Eighty-ninth — at the ferry below and in sight of the falls, two miles below Gauley Bridge. There, do you know where we are? It is a muddy — bad slippery mud — place, and as it rains or sleets here all winter, that is a serious objection. Now you have the worst of it. In all other respects, it is a capital place. Beautiful scenery — don't be alarmed, I won't describe; no guard or picket duty, scarcely; good water and wood; convenient to navigation; no other folks near enough to bother, and many other advantages. The men are building cabins without tools or lumber (sawed lumber, I mean,) and will be at it some weeks yet before we look like living.

It was jolly enough to get back with the men — all healthy and contented, glad to be back in western Virginia by themselves. They greeted me most cordially. It was like getting home after a long absence. The officers all came in, twenty-four in number, and around the wine, etc., you saw packed, talked over the funny and sad things of the campaign — a few sad, many funny. We resolved to build a five-hundred-dollar monument to the killed, etc., to be put in cemetery ground at Cleveland.

A story or two. Bill Brown, as he rushed forward in the bayonet charge at South Mountain, said to his lieutenant behind him: “I'll toss the graybacks over my head to you, and you must wring their necks.” In Washington a lady asked Bill if he wouldn't have his handkerchief scented: “Yes, yes,” said he and tore off about four inches square of his shirt and handed it to her. She took the hint and gave him a fine handkerchief.

In Maryland, Colonel Scammon dressed up in a splinter-new unform. He met a fellow hauling into camp a load of rails to burn. Colonel Scammon said: “Where did you get those rails?” “On a fence down by the creek.” “Who authorized you to take them?” “I took them on my own hook.” “Well, sir,” said the colonel, “just haul them back and put them where you got them.” The fellow looked at the colonel from head to heel and drove ahead merely remarking: “A bran’ new colonel by G—d!” The doctor asked Bill Brown where he was wounded: “Oh, in the place where I'm always ailing.” . . .

Comly is urged by leading officers in this brigade to be made colonel of the Eighty-ninth. He would be a capital man for the place.

My mess are eating up the good things with a relish. It consists of Comly, Doctor Joe, McIlrath, and myself. We have Company A's fine tenor singer for cook — a good cook and a nice gentleman he is. My orderly, Carrington, and Doctor's ditto are the only servants, all soldiers — contrary to law, but much better than having darkies. Dr. Joe has built a bed today wide enough to have Webb and Birch both sleep with him! He really thinks of it.

Dr. Jim resigned today on a surgeon's certificate. Joe thought it best and I concurred. He is not in danger, but was evidently breaking down in this climate. Old Gray is with his company. Dr. Joe saw him today carrying mud to a couple of men building a chimney, and asked him what he was doing now. Gray replied: “I am dark to these gentlemen!”

The Eighty-ninth were camped on this ground. When the Twenty-third moved up alongside of them, the officer of the day in the Eighty-ninth was heard by some of our men telling in his camp that they were near an old regiment now and they must be watchful at night or the Twenty-third would steal whatever they wanted! That night cook-stoves, blankets, a tent from over the sleepers' heads, and a quantity of other property mysteriously disappeared from the Eighty-ninth notwithstanding their vigilance. Our men sympathized, our camp was searched, but, of course, nothing was found. After the Eighty-ninth moved, men were seen pulling out of the river stoves and other plunder by the quantity. The Eighty-ninth's surgeon was a friend of Captain Canby. He called on the captain a few days ago and was surprised to find his cooking stove doing duty in Captain Canby's tent. The best of it was the Eighty-ninth appeared to take it in good part.

Bottsford and Kennedy, both captains and A. A. G's — Bottsford for General Scammon and Kennedy for General Crook. Hood came up with me from Gallipolis. . . .

Affectionately ever,

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 366-8

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Sophia Birchard Hayes, Evening, September 18, 1862

Middletown, Maryland, September 18,1862, (P. M.)

Dear Mother: — I am steadily getting along. For the most part, the pain is not severe, but occasionally an unlucky move of the shattered arm causes a good deal of distress. I have every comfort that I could get at home. I shall hope to see Lucy in two or three days.

The result of the two great battles already fought is favorable, but not finally decisive. I think the final struggle will occur soon. We feel encouraged to hope for a victory from the results thus far. We have had nearly one-half our fighting men in the Twenty-third killed or wounded. Lieutenant-Colonel Jones of Thirtieth Ohio, in our Brigade, of Columbus, is missing; supposed to be wounded. Colonel of the Eleventh Ohio,

killed. Love to all. — Send this to Uncle.

Affectionately, your son,

R.

Mrs. Sophia Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 357-8

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Sunday, September 14, 1862

Enemy on a spur of Blue Ridge, three and one-half miles west. At 7 A. M. we go out to attack. I am sent with [the] Twenty-third up a mountain path to get around the Rebel right with instructions to attack and take a battery of two guns supposed to be posted there. I asked, “If I find six guns and a strong support?” Colonel Scammon replies, “Take them anyhow.” It is the only safe instruction. General Cox told me General Pleasanton had arranged with Colonel Crook of [the] Second Brigade as to the support of his (General Pleasanton's) artillery and cavalry, and was vexed that Colonel Scammon was to have the advance; that he, General Cox, wished me to put my energies and wits all to work so that General Pleasanton should have no cause to complain of an inefficient support. The First Brigade had the advance and the Twenty-third was the front of the First Brigade.

Went with a guide by the right flank up the hill, Company A deployed in front as skirmishers. Seeing signs of Rebels [I] sent [Company] F to the left and [Company] I to the right as flankers. Started a Rebel picket about 9 A. M. Soon saw from the opposite hill a strong force coming down towards us; formed hastily in the woods; faced by the rear rank (some companies inverted and some out of place) towards the enemy; pushed through bushes and rocks over broken ground towards the enemy; soon received a heavy volley, wounding and killing some. I feared confusion; exhorted, swore, and threatened. Men did pretty well. Found we could not stand it long, and ordered an advance. Rushed forward with a yell; enemy gave way. Halted to reform line; heavy firing resumed.

I soon began to fear we could not stand it, and again ordered a charge; the enemy broke, and we drove them clear out of the woods. Our men halted at a fence near the edge of the woods and kept up a brisk fire upon the enemy, who were sheltering themselves behind stone walls and fences near the top of the hill, beyond a cornfield in front of our position. Just as I gave the command to charge I felt a stunning blow and found a musket ball had struck my left arm just above the elbow. Fearing that an artery might be cut, I asked a soldier near me to tie my handkerchief above the wound. I soon felt weak, faint, and sick at the stomach. I laid [lay] down and was pretty comfortable. I was perhaps twenty feet behind the line of my men, and could form a pretty accurate notion of the way the fight was going. The enemy's fire was occasionally very heavy; balls passed near my face and hit the ground all around me. I could see wounded men staggering or carried to the rear; but I felt sure our men were holding their own. I listened anxiously to hear the approach of reinforcements; wondered they did not come.

I was told there was danger of the enemy flanking us on our left, near where I was lying. I called out to Captain Drake, who was on the left, to let his company wheel backward so as to face the threatened attack. His company fell back perhaps twenty yards, and the whole line gradually followed the example, thus leaving me between our line and the enemy. Major Comly came along and asked me if it was my intention the whole line should fall back. I told him no, that I merely wanted one or two of the left companies to wheel backward so as to face an enemy said to be coming on our left. I said if the line was now in good position to let it remain and to face the left companies as I intended. This, I suppose, was done.

The firing continued pretty warm for perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes, when it gradually died away on both sides. After a few minutes' silence I began to doubt whether the enemy had disappeared or whether our men had gone farther back. I called out, “Hallo Twenty-third men, are you going to leave your colonel here for the enemy?” In an instant a half dozen or more men sprang forward to me, saying, “Oh no, we will carry you wherever you want us to.” The enemy immediately opened fire on them. Our men replied to them, and soon the battle was raging as hotly as ever. I ordered the men back to cover, telling them they would get me shot and themselves too. They went back and about this time Lieutenant Jackson came and insisted upon taking me out of the range of the enemy's fire. He took me back to our line and, feeling faint, he laid me down behind a big log and gave me a canteen of water, which tasted so good. Soon after, the fire having again died away, he took me back up the hill, where my wound was dressed by Dr. Joe. I then walked about half a mile to the house of Widow Kugler. I remained there two or three hours when I was taken with Captain Skiles in an ambulance to Middletown — three and a half miles — where I stopped at Mr. Jacob Rudy's.

I omitted to say that a few moments after I first laid [lay] down, seeing something going wrong and feeling a little easier, I got up and began to give directions about things; but after a few moments, getting very weak, I again laid [lay] down. While I was lying down I had considerable talk with a wounded [Confederate] soldier lying near me. I gave him messages for my wife and friends in case I should not get up. We were right jolly and friendly; it was by no means an unpleasant experience.

Telegraphed Lucy, Uncle, Platt, and John Herron, two or threa times each. Very doubtful whether they get the dispatches. My orderly, Harvey Carrington, nurses me with the greatest care. Dr. Joe dresses the wound, and the women feed me sumptuously.

Don't sleep much these nights; days pretty comfortable.

                     

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 355

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Sophia Birchard Hayes: September 16, 1862

Middletown, September 16, 1862.

Dear Mother: — It would make you very happy about me if you could see how pleasantly and comfortably I am cared for. Imagine Mrs. Wasson and two or three young ladies doing all in their power to keep me well nursed and fed, and you will get a good idea of my situation.

The worst period of my wound is now over. I am, when still, free from pain. A little boy, about Ruddy's age, (eight or nine) named Charlie Rudy, sits by the window and describes the troops, etc., etc., as they pass. I said to him, “Charlie, you live on a street that is much travelled.” “Oh,” said he, “it isn't always so, it's only when the war comes.” Mrs. Rudy's currant jellies remind me of old times in Delaware.

I hope Lucy will be able to come out to see me. At any rate, I shall probably come home and stay a few weeks when I shall see you. Thus far, the best of the fighting is with us. My regiment has lost largely but has been victorious. — Love to all.

Affectionately,

R.

Mrs. Sophia Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 354