Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: July 27, 1864

General Early has returned from Maryland, bringing horses, cattle, etc. While near Washington, the army burned Mr. Montgomery Blair's house, which I cannot persuade myself to regret, and spared the residence of his father, by order, it is said, of General Breckinridge. I know that General B. was right, but I think it required great forbearance, particularly in the soldiers, who have felt in their own persons and families the horrors of this cruel war of invasion. It seems to our human view that unless the war is severely felt by those in high authority, it will never cease. Hunter has just passed through the upper part of the Valley of Virginia, his pathway marked by fire and sword; and Sheridan has followed Early into Virginia, with no very gentle intent, I fear. I am glad that Maryland was spared as a general thing, particularly as our friends might have suffered with our foes, for it would have been difficult to discriminate; but I cannot avoid thinking that if other places, besides Governor Bradford's house and the town of Chambersburg, had been burnt, it would shorten the war. Yet God has said, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay;" and I hope that Christian principles will ever be observed by our commanders. There seems to be no touch of pity in the hearts of many of the Federal generals. Women and children are made homeless at midnight, and not allowed to save any thing, even their clothes. When houses are not burned, they are robbed of every thing which a rapacious soldiery may desire. The last barrel of flour, the last ham, is taken from store-rooms; and this is done, not in Virginia only; nor are Hunter, Sheridan, Kilpatrick, or Stoneman the only men who do it; but every State in the Confederacy has felt the heel of the despot. North and South Carolina have suffered on their eastern borders most severely; the same of Georgia and Florida. Alabama has had much to bear. The Mississippi country in Louisiana, Arkansas, and the State of Mississippi, has been ravaged and desolated; Tennessee has perhaps had more to bear than any of them. But poor old Virginia has been furrowed and scarred until her original likeness is gone. From the Potomac to the Roanoke, from the seaboard to the Kentucky boundary, including the downtrodden Eastern Shore, she could scarcely be recognized by her sons. Marked by a hundred battle-fields, and checkered by fortifications, almost every spot is classic ground. From the beginning she has acted her part nobly, and has already covered herself with glory; but when the war is over, where shall we find her old churches, where her noble homesteads, scenes of domestic comfort and generous hospitality? Either laid low by the firebrand, or desecrated and desolated. In the march of the army, or in the rapid evolutions of raiding parties, woe betide the houses which are found deserted! In many cases the men of the family having gone to the war, the women and children dare not stay; then the lawless are allowed to plunder. They seem to take the greatest delight in breaking up the most elegant or the most humble furniture, as the case may be; cut the portraits from the frames, split pianos in pieces, ruin libraries, in any way that suits their fancy; break doors from their hinges, and locks from the doors; cut the windows from the frames, and leave no pane of glass unbroken; carry off house-linen and carpets; the contents of the store-rooms and pantries, sugar, flour, vinegar, molasses, pickles, preserves, which cannot be eaten or carried off, are poured together in one general mass; the horses are of course taken from the stables; cattle and stock of all kinds driven off or shot in the woods and fields. Generally, indeed I believe always when the whole army is moving, inhabited houses are protected. To raiders such as Hunter and Co. is reserved the credit of committing such outrages in the presence of ladies — of taking their watches from their belts, their rings from their fingers, and their ear-rings from their ears; of searching their bureaux and wardrobes, and filling pockets and haversacks in their presence. Is it not then wonderful that soldiers whose families have suffered such things could be restrained when in a hostile country? It seems to me to show a marvellous degree of forbearance in the officers themselves, and of discipline in the troops.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 282-4

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: May 6, 1864

The Federals are this morning ascending James River, with a fleet of thirty-nine vessels — four monitors among them. The battle between Lee and Grant imminent. God help us! We feel strengthened by the prayers of so many good people. All the city seems quiet and trusting. We feel that the Lord will keep the city. We were at our own prayer-meeting at St. James's this morning at half-past six. Yesterday evening we heard most fervent prayers from the Young Men's Christian Association. To-day Dr. Reid's Church will be open all day for prayer. I am sorry that I shall not be able to go before the afternoon.

Grant's force is said to be between one hundred and fifty and one hundred and eighty thousand men. The “battle is not always to the strong,” as we have often experienced during the past three years.

We spent last evening at the Ballard House, with Dr. S. and my dear S. She is hastening to her ill child; he must return to his post; private griefs cannot now be indulged.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 262

Brigadier-General John Sedgwick to his Sister, March 30, 1862

Camp Near Hampton, Virginia,

March 30, 1862.

My dear sister:

We arrived here yesterday morning in advance of all the troops. They are now slowly coming in. I suppose we may be here several days. The General is expected to-morrow or next day.

This town presents the most desolate appearance you can imagine; not a house standing, where formerly it contained a population of perhaps three thousand people. It was, as you may remember, one of the oldest places in the United States. There was a church standing here that was built in 1630, now in ruins.

Direct “Old Point Comfort.” It is probable letters will be forwarded, but where to is more than I can say just now. We are having a cold rain to-day, but yesterday was as warm and pleasant as May with you. Grass looks quite green and fresh.

With much love,

Your affectionate brother,

J. S.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 41-2

Major Wilder Dwight: August 18, 1861

Camp Below Sandy Hook, August 18, 1861.

Well, not so quiet and slow a Sunday, after all. When I closed and mailed my letter this morning, on the abrupt order to “strike tents and pack wagons,” I did not foresee the briskness of the day. The whole regiment, with much expedition, got upon its new camping-ground nearer the hills and nearer Harper's Ferry. At one o'clock the field of our new encampment was already white. At about three I started on my horse to ride down to the canal and hurry off the boat-load of flour that had been seized. Before I got there I met the report that the Rebel cavalry had entered Harper's Ferry, and that our men were firing on them from the opposite bank of the Potomac. I hurried on and galloped into Sandy Hook. The citizens had gathered under the protection of some buildings. When I got to the Ferry, just above where the old bridge was burnt, I found Captain Cogswell's company, which was there stationed, watching its chances to fire on the enemy who might show themselves in the town opposite. Colonel Andrews, who was there superintending the exit of the flour, was watching to direct their fire. They had succeeded in dismounting one or two horsemen, and in scattering the whole body round the point beyond the hill. Lieutenant Brown, who was loading the ferry-boat, saw the cavalry coming down the Shenandoah road. His citizen workmen fled incontinently. His soldiers put the few remaining barrels on board, including that portion of flour which was the promised pay of the citizen workmen, Brown telling them afterwards they had lost it by running. Colonel Andrews immediately ordered some of Captain Cogswell's men to climb the hill so as to bring the Rebel horse within range. Their shots scattered the cavalry who had formed in the square by the Armory. A brisk interchange of shots ensued. Captain Cary's company was stationed above, on the Potomac, to guard the ford. A fatigue party from his company were down at the river-bank obstructing the passage-way from the ford. The Rebels opened fire on them.

Captain Cary deployed his company as skirmishers, and they returned the whistling bullets. I arrived just as the fire was ceasing. After starting the boat, which, as good luck would have it, had on board every barrel of flour seized except thirty kept for our own use, I went on to give some orders to Captain Cary. I found him and his company in cheerful temper, and watching for “good shots.” Then I went up the hill to our lookout. Lieutenant Horton was there with a picket. He pointed out where the troops had been, and I also saw a retreating body of horse on the Charlestown road. Leaving him, I returned to Colonel Andrews, below, at the ford, found everything quiet, and then came back to camp to report. This evening I have been again to Sandy Hook, and all is quiet. We think it is only a sudden dash to prevent our seizure of the flour which they coveted. By working all night we had got our prey the right side of the swift river, and the boat went out of range of them on the canal just as they got to the ferry. Our position, too, on the side of the mountain in shelter of the trees, enabled us to sprinkle our shots freely through the town. So their scheme failed. Still we may from time to time exchange shots with them. We are well posted. They cannot cross the river easily, and we are not in force to attempt it, so there is no danger, and much amusement and liveliness in possible store for us. Our flour and some other stores taken have given us a fine commissariat. We have plenty to eat, and are in good spirits.

A scout from Harper's Ferry reports a company of infantry in one of their churches. So our successors followed close upon our heels.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 77-9

Diary of Mary Brockenbrough Newton: May 18, 1862

S. H., Hanover County, Va. C. M. and myself set off yesterday morning for church. At my brother's gate we met Dr. N., who told us that there were rumours of the approach of the enemy from the White House. We then determined not to go to our own church, but in another direction, to the Presbyterian church. After waiting there until the hour for service had arrived, an elder came in and announced to us that the minister thought it prudent not to come, but to have the congregation dismissed at once, as the enemy were certainly approaching. We returned home in a most perturbed state, and found that my husband had just arrived, with several of our sons and nephews, to spend a day or two with us. In a short time a servant announced that he had seen the Yankees that morning at the “Old Church.” Then there was no time to be lost; our gentlemen must go. We began our hurried preparations, and sent for the carriage and buggy. We were told that the driver had gone to the Yankees. After some discussion, one of the gentlemen determined to drive, and they were soon off. It was then eleven o'clock at night, and the blackness of darkness reigned over the earth. It was the most anxious night of my life. Surrounded by an implacable foe, our gentlemen all gone, we knew not how long we should be separated, or what might not happen before we met, and the want of confidence in our servants, which was now for the first time shaken, made us very nervous. This morning we went to W., and took leave of our sister, Mrs. C., and daughters. Her sons are in the army, and being a refugee, she says she must follow the army, and go where she can reach them if they are wounded. We found C. busily dividing her year's supply of bacon among the servants, that each may take care of his own. As the enemy never regards locks, she knows that her meat-house will be unsafe; we secreted two guns, which had been inadvertently left, and returned, feeling desolate, but thankful that our gentlemen were safely off.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 134-5

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: May 18, 1862

The 16th was the day appointed by the President for fasting and prayer. The churches here were filled, as I trust they were all over the land.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 117

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: April 21, 1862

The ladies are now engaged making sand-bags for the fortifications at Yorktown; every lecture-room in town crowded with them, sewing busily, hopefully, prayerfully. Thousands are wanted. No battle, but heavy skirmishing at Yorktown. Our friend, Colonel McKinney, has fallen at the head of a North Carolina regiment. Fredericksburg has been abandoned to the enemy. Troops passing through towards that point. What does it all portend? We are intensely anxious; our conversation, while busily sewing at St. Paul's Lecture-Room, is only of war. We hear of so many horrors committed by the enemy in the Valley — houses searched and robbed, horses taken, sheep, cattle, etc., killed and carried off, servants deserting their homes, churches desecrated!

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 107-8

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: July 4, 1861

This day General Scott promised himself and his Northern friends to dine in Richmond. Poor old renegade, I trust he has eaten his last dinner in Richmond, the place of his marriage, the birthplace of his children, the home of his early friendships, and so near the place of his nativity and early years.

How can he wish to enter Richmond but as a friend? But it is enough for us to know that he is disappointed in his amiable and patriotic wish to-day. So may it be.

I have seen W. H., who has just returned from Fairfax. Last week he scouted near our house, and gives no very encouraging report for us. Our hills are being fortified, and Alexandria and the neighbourhood have become one vast barracks. The large trees are being felled, and even houses are falling by order of the invader! Our prospect of getting home becomes more and more dim; my heart sinks within me, and hope is almost gone. What shall we do, if the war continues until next winter, without a certain resting-place? Our friends are kind and hospitable, open-hearted and generous to a wonderful degree. In this house we are made to feel not only welcome, but that our society gives them heartfelt pleasure. Other friends, too, are most kind in giving invitations “for the war” — “as long as we find it agreeable to stay,” etc.; but while this is very gratifying and delightful, yet we must get some place, however small and humble, to call home. Our friends here amuse themselves at my fears; but should the war continue, I do not think that they have any guarantee that they will not be surrounded by an unfriendly host. They think that they will not leave their homes under any circumstances; perhaps not, because they are surrounded by so much property that they must protect; but the situation will be very trying. Whenever I express a feeling of despondency, Mr. ____ meets it with the calm reply, that the “Lord will provide,” so that I am really ashamed to give place to fear. The situation of the people of Hampton is far worse than ours — their homes reduced to ashes; their church in ruins! That venerable colonial church, in which for generations they have been baptized, received the Holy Communion, been married, and around which their dead now lie. Their very graves desecrated; their tomb-stones torn down and broken; the slabs, sacred to the memory of their fathers, children, husbands, wives, which have been watched and decorated perhaps for years, now converted into dining-tables for the Yankee soldiery. How can human hearts bear such things and live? We have not yet been subjected to any thing of the kind, and I humbly trust that so dire a calamity may be averted.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 35-6

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, July 11, 1861

Hagerstown, Md., July 11, 1861.

We have just arrived here, two o'clock A. M., and have quartered our men in two churches.

I am perfectly well and will write again as soon as I have an opportunity; now, I must get some sleep, as we start to join General Patterson's army early in the day, about twenty miles from here.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 5

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 Lucy Webb Hayes, Friday Night, August 30, 1861

French Creek, August 30, 1861, Friday Night.

Dearest: — “The best laid schemes of mice and men,” etc., especially in war. That beautiful camp at the head of the valley, where we were to stay so long, had just been gotten into fine order, when the order to leave came: “Make a forced march to French Creek by a mountain path, leaving tents, baggage, and knapsacks to be sent you.” We obeyed, and are yet alive. A queer life. We are now as jolly as if we never saw trouble or hardship. Two nights ago and three nights ago we lay in the rain in the woods without shelter, blankets, and almost without food, and after such hard days’ toil that we slept on the mountains as soundly as logs. All the horses used up, Uncle Joe's Birch among the rest, except my pretty little sorrel, Webby, which came through better than ever.

Let me describe my kit: Portmanteau containing two pair socks, one shirt, a towel containing bread and sugar, a tin cup, a pistol in one holster and ammunition in the other, a blanket wrapped in the India-rubber you fixed, and a blue (soldier's) overcoat. Seven miles we made after 2:30 P. M. on a good road to Huttonsville, then by a bridle-path part of the way and no path the rest, following a guide six miles over a steep, muddy, rocky mountain. At the foot of the mountain I put Captain Sperry, who was footsore, on Webby, and pushed ahead afoot. I could see we would not get over the mountain to a stream we wished to camp on until after night, unless we pushed. I put on ahead of [the] guide and reached the top with Lieutenant Bottsford, the keen-eyed snare-drummer, Gillett (Birch remembers him, I guess), a soldier, and the guide alone in sight. We waited till the head of the column came in sight, got full instructions from the guide, directed him to wait for the column, and leaving him, re-enforced, however, by the silver cornet player, we hurried down. In half an hour it was dark as tar. I led the little party blundering sometimes, but in the main, right, until we could hear the river. Long before we reached it, all sound of the column was lost, and the way was so difficult that we agreed they could not get down until daylight. We got to the river at 9:15 with three matches and a Fremont Journal to kindle fire with, no overcoats and no food. It was a wet night. Didn't we scratch about and whittle to get dry kindling, and weren't we lucky to get it and start a great fire with the first precious match?

Now for the column: It reached almost over the mountain single file. 1st, Pioneers under a sergeant, ten men; 2nd, Lieutenant Smith with advance guard of thirty men; 3d, Colonel Scammon and the five companies, Twenty-third; 4th, Captain McMullen and his four mountain howitzers and mules and eighty men; 5th, Lieutenant-Colonel Sandershoff with five companies of McCook's regiment. The head of the column got down to us to our surprise at 10 P. M. McMullen gave it up at 11 P. M. half-way up the mountain, and the Germans were below him. The next day we toiled on thirteen and a half hours' actual marching over the hills to this place, thirty miles. About three hundred of our men reached here at 8 P. M. — dark, muddy, rainy, and dismal — hungry, no shelter, nothing. Three companies of the Fifth under Captain Remley (part of Colonel Dunning's Continentals) were here. They took us in, fed us, piled hay, built fires, and worked for us until midnight like beavers, and we survived the night. Our men will always bless the Cincinnati Fifth. A friend of the doctor's, Davis, named Culbertson, looked after [me] and Dick Wright and others took care of Joe. Those who seemed unable to keep up, I began to order into barns and farmhouses about 6:30 o'clock. The last six miles was somewhat settled and I took care of the rear.

In the morning we found ourselves in a warm-hearted Union settlement. We got into a Presbyterian church. We made headquarters at a Yankee lady's and fared sumptuously; but McMullen and the Germans were still behind. They got in twenty-four hours after us in another dark wet night. Dr. Joe was in his glory. He and I took charge of the Germans. They were completely used up. The worst off we took into a barn of Mrs. Sea. I mention the old lady's name for she has two sons and a son-in-law in the Union army of Virginia and gave us all she had for the Germans. We got through the night work about 12 M. [midnight] and today have enjoyed hugely the comparing notes, etc., etc. Our tents reached us just now, and I am writing in mine. The colonel was used up; Joe and I are the better for it. The move is supposed to be to meet the enemy coming in by a different route. We march on tomorrow but on good roads (reasonably so) and with tents and rations.

I love you so much. Kisses for all the boys and Grandma. Good night.

R.

Tell Mother, Uncle, Laura, etc., that I get all letters, papers, Testament, etc., that are sent. I have lost nothing, I am sure. Such things are carefully forwarded from Clarksburg.

I am in command of the battalion and write this in the bustle of pitching tents preparatory to marching again as soon as fairly settled.

Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 80-3

Diary of Major Rutherford B. Hayes: Thursday, August 29, 1861

Moved into the Presbyterian church to await our tents and train.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 80

Major Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, Thursday, August 15, 1861

Weston, Virginia, August 15, 1861.

Thursday Morning.

Dearest L—: — We had four days of rain ending yesterday morning — such rain as this country of hills and mountains can afford. It was gloomy and uncomfortable but no harm was done. It cleared off beautifully yesterday morning and the weather has been most delicious since. This is a healthful region. Nobody seriously sick and almost everybody outrageously healthy. I never was better. It is a luxury to breathe. Dr. Joe — but don't he go into the corn? He has it three times a day, reminding me of Northampton a year ago and your order for supper on our return from Mount Holyoke.

Our regiment has had divers duties which keep up excitement enough to prevent us from stagnating. Colonel Matthews and right wing is fifty miles south. Captain Drake and Captain Woodward, with their companies, spent the four rainy days scouring the steepest hills and deepest gullies for the rascals who waylay our couriers and wagon trains. They captured three or four of the underlings, but the leaders and main party dodged them. Captain Zimmerman and his company have gone west forty miles to escort provisions to Colonel Moor (Second German Regiment of Cincinnati in which Markbreit is Lieutenant) and to clean out an infected neighborhood between here and there. A sergeant and six men are at Clarksburg escorting a prisoner destined for Columbus. Lieutenant Rice and twenty men are escorting cattle for Colonel Tyler's command south of here. A part of our cavalry are gone west to escort a captain and the surgeon of the Tenth to Glenville, thirty-seven miles west. On Saturday I go with Captain Drake's company to meet Captain Zimmerman's company returning from the west, and with the two companies, to go into the hills to the south to hunt for a guerrilla band who are annoying Union men in that vicinity. I shall be gone almost a week so you will not hear from me for some time. The telegraph is now extended south to a station near where I am going to operate, so that we are in reach of humanity by telegraph but not by mail.

Dr. Joe has got the hospital in good condition. A church (Methodist South) in place of the court-house for the merely comfortable, and a private house for the very sick. None of our regiment are seriously ill. The sick are devolved upon us from other regiments — chiefly lung complaints developed by marching, measles, or exposure. Very few, if any, taken here. Divers humane old ladies furnish knickknacks to the hospital and make glad the poor fellows with such comforts as women can best provide.

We find plenty of good Union men, and most of our expeditions are aided by them. They show a good spirit in our behalf. A large part of our friends in the mountains are the well-to-do people of their neighborhoods and usually are Methodists or other orderly citizens.

Good-bye, dearest. I love you very much. Kiss the boys and love to all. Tell Webby that during the rain the other night, dark as pitch, my horse, Webb, fell down the hill back of the camp into the river. Swam over to the opposite shore, and at daylight we saw him frisking about in great excitement trying to get back to his companion Birch. When we got him he was not hurt or scratched even. He stumbles a little, which doesn't do for a riding horse, so I have taken a government horse which looks very much like him; same color and size but not quite so pretty, and given Webb to Uncle Joe for an ambulance horse. I shall call my new horse Webb, so there are to be two Webbys in the regiment. My next horse I shall call Ruddy. Love to Grandma.

Affectionately,

R

Mrs. Hayes

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 65-7

Major Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, August 9, 1861

Camp Near Weston, Virginia, August 9, 1861.

Friday Afternoon.

Dearest: — I have just read your letter postmarked the 5th at Kingston. Right pleased with you. Very happy to get your good letter. It has been bright, warm (hot) weather since Sunday, but today at noon a fine rain began to fall, and this afternoon I was loafing about in the tents, hard up for occupation. Lying alone in my tent, your letter came in with one from Uncle written Sunday. Wasn't it so lucky? I've nothing to tell you, I believe. Dr. Joe is well — perfectly — again; busy changing his hospital from the court-house and jail to a secession church which doesn't run now. The colonel is busy giving passes to citizens wishing to travel roads guarded by our picquets.

Colonel Matthews under Colonel Tyler has gone to Summersville about seventy miles south of this. They are looking for Wise. In the meantime we have rumors that General Lee is marching over the mountains to push the Union forces in this region out of the State, and to seize the stores so abundantly gathered hereabouts. We have no means of knowing the truth here; if there is anything in it, we shall be called to Buchanan [Buckhannon], sixteen miles east, where the first attack is expected. There is a little more activity among the enemy in this quarter since these rumors became rife. Our party from the south, returning today, report that an attack was made up the road on two companies of Colonel Lytle's men by a party in ambush, who fired one volley and ran off into the hills. One man killed and four wounded. Captain Gaines (our prosecutor) called to see me last night. His company is detached from his regiment, guarding a party putting up telegraph wires. Mr. Schooley returned from Cincinnati with late news last night. He says, it [was] so lonely he really wished to get back to camp. I am sorry to have Colonel Matthews and the right wing gone, but except that we are doing nicely. Colonel Scammon is in better health and things go on very smoothly.

The soldiers fare very well here, and stand in little need of sympathy, but when I have an opportunity to smooth matters for them, I try to do it, always remembering how you would wish it done. What a good heart you have, darling. I shall try to be as good as you would like me to be.

Young Jewett got safely home. He is likely to have a long and serious time getting well, but will probably be very slightly, if at all, crippled. Colonel Ammen is at Clarksburg. If we have any force sent against us, we shall be with him; otherwise, not at present.

I am glad you are visiting at Aunt Margaret's this hot weather. Do you recollect when we were up [the] Saguenay a year ago at this time? Here Colonel Scammon came in full of pleasant gossip, feeling happy with letters from his wife and daughters. No more chance to write in time for tonight's mail. Continue to address me at Clarksburg until I direct otherwise. Love to all at Elmwood. Kiss the boys all around.

Affectionately,

R. B. Hayes.

Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 61-2

Diary of Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, September 27, 1863

It continues quite warm and all is quiet. We had company inspection early this morning, after which those not on duty were free to go about, and I attended services at the Baptist church in the city. It seemed like home to attend a regular church service on a Sunday morning. This church building is of brick and during the siege four or five cannon balls passed through the walls at different places.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 144-5

Diary of Charles H. Lynch: January 1, 1863

When off picket duty try to keep comfortable by the picket fires and chopping wood for the large camp fire just outside the church. No place in the church for fires.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 13

General Robert E. Lee to Mary Custis Lee, July 10, 1864

July 10, 1864.

I was pleased, on the arrival of my little courier this morning, to hear that you were better, and that Custis Morgan¹ was still among the missing. I think the farther he gets from you the better you will be. The shells have scattered the poor inhabitants in Petersburg, so that many of the churches are closed. Indeed, they have been visited by the enemy's shells. Mr. Piatt, pastor of the principal Episcopal church, had services at my headquarters today. The services were under the trees, and the discourse on the subject of salvation.

__________

¹ A pet squirrel.

SOURCE: John William Jones, Life and Letters of Robert Edward Lee: Soldier and Man, p. 318

M. E. Church

A majority, of the members of the M. E. Church South, in Louisiana, Mo., have left it and attached themselves to the M. E. Church.

It is said that many more of the members of the Church South in Missouri, are about to return to the fold and the faith of Wesley, from which they separated themselves in 1844.

– Published in The Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Friday Morning, March 14, 1862, p. 2