Following the American Civil War Sesquicentennial with day by day writings of the time, currently 1863.

Friday, May 11, 2012

Written from the Sea islands of South Carolina.

St. Helena’s, May 11, 1862.

I wish I had half as much time to think of folks at home as you take to think of me, but you will know how busy I am when I tell you that your last letters were carried in my pocket all day — nine letters — and not opened, some of them; none of them read until night. But every day is not so. That was yesterday, and today I have rested. I am just as well as I can be and am having a good time. As for unhealthiness, I shall go from here as soon as I see that this place is not healthy. The negroes say no white folks ever lived here to test it, and as the house was new, it was probably so. They say it is healthy for “niggers,” but “white folks” always go North or to Beaufort in summer. It has proved, though, to be healthy wherever white folks have lived as near the sea as we are, so I think I need not run till I see cause.

You need not be troubled about the allopathic doctoring for there is a nice, elderly man in the army, a lieutenant in a Michigan regiment, who has charge of the comfort of the ladies at Mr. French’s. He came over here with Mr. French and we made a solemn agreement, he to doctor me, and I him in case we were either of us ill. He is an old hand at homoeopathy, and a very good doctor, I think. So I feel very safe and comfortable. He is elderly, married, and stationed here for the summer, and at the disposal of the ladies so far as doing everything he can for their comfort. As for going into the hot sun and night dews — when I get time for a walk I shall be happy. There is a pine grove close by, and I have wanted from the first to go to it. It is not a stone’s throw from here and I have not entered it yet. I never go further than the quarters or the cotton-house except in the carriage, but I have had lots of beautiful rides, and Mr. Pierce is going to give me a horse and buggy so that I can drive whenever I please and wherever I please. He does this rather for the horse’s sake than mine, I fancy.

It is not very hot here. There is a splendid sea breeze every day and the nights are cool. We have every comfort except steady servants, and I have a real good, old auntie who does my washing, chamber-work, and waiting at table for half a dollar a week. Although I never worked so in my life, it seems to agree with me, as I am in high health and spirits, sleep like a top, laugh like old times, and am jolly generally.

Ellen has not yet come and I am so afraid the Boston Committee will not send her, because they will not accept Mr. Pierce’s pass now that he thinks of leaving, or because their funds are out. I expected her fully yesterday, but the letters came and she did not. I find it so much better and safer and more cool and comfortable here than I expected, that I have no scruples about her coming and have got all over my fears about all sorts of things that I used to be afraid would be the death of her.

You must not think because I talk so much of the hurry that I do not like it. I do, for it is just what I came here for — though not just this kind [of work]. The day I kept school for Miss Winsor I had the hardest time of all, and I concluded perhaps I was better for this work than teaching. In my doctoring I can do much good and give much advice that is wanted. The clothing department is the most laborious, but it is very amusing to sell to the negroes; they are so funny.

I see every day why I came and what I am to stay for.

Camp at Mouth of East River, Giles County,

Virginia, May 11, 1862.

Dearest : — Since I wrote you last I have lived a great deal. Do you know that Giles Court-house was captured with a large amount of stores, etc., etc., by a party sent by me from Princeton? It was so bold and impudent! I went with six companies of the Twenty-third to reinforce. I soon found that unless further reinforced we were gone up. The enemy, three thousand strong, were within ten miles of us with a battery of artillery. We had none. The place, a lovely mountain village, was wholly indefensible except by a large force. I sent two couriers a day to beg for reinforcements for three days. None came. At the last moment the order came that I should retreat if attacked by a largely superior force. This was easy to say, but to do it safely, after waiting till the enemy is on you, is not a trifle. I was up every night. Had guards and pickets on every point of approach. Well, yesterday morning, I got up before daylight, and visited the outposts. Just at dawn, I heard the alarm guns. The enemy were coming even in greater force than we expected. Four regiments, a battery of guns, and a small force of cavalry. I had only nine companies of the Twenty-third, much weakened by detachments guarding supply trains, etc., and two weak companies of cavalry. Not more than one-fourth of the enemy’s strength. But all went on like clockwork. Baggage was loaded and started. Captains Drake and Sperry undertook to hold the enemy with their companies and Captain Gilmore’s Cavalry until the rest could take position in rear of the town. I went out with Captains Drake and Sperry.

Just before sunrise, May 10, a lovely morning, we saw the advancing battalions in line of battle in beautiful order. They were commanded, it is said, by General Heth. They opened first with cannon firing shell. The first personal gratification was to find that my horse stood it well. Soon I saw that the men were standing it well. As they came in range of our skirmishers, some fatal firing checked them; but they were rapidly closing around us. Now was the first critical moment: Could our men retreat without breaking into confusion or a rout?

They retired slowly, stubbornly, in good spirits and in order! I got a scratch on the right knee, just drawing blood but spoiling my drawers. But what of that? Things were going well. The enemy now approached our main line. Could it retreat also in order, for I knew it must be forced back. Here was the crisis of our fate. They stood firmly. The enemy halted to get his guns in position again. Soon we were in a fair way to be surrounded.

The men were ordered to retire slowly, firing as they went, to a ridge forty rods back, and then to form again. They did it to perfection, and I knew we were safe. From that time, for five hours, it was only exciting fun. The fight lasted seven hours, we retreating six and one-half miles until we came to a narrow pass where three of our companies could hold back any number. Here we were safe. The Twenty-third looked gloriously after this. We got off as by a miracle. We lost one killed, one wounded badly and a host slightly, in the regiment; about the same in the cavalry. Applause was never so sweet as when right in the midst of the struggle, Gilmore’s Cavalry gave me three cheers for a sharp stroke by which I turned the column out of range of the enemy’s guns, which, with infinite trouble, he had placed to sweep us.

It was a retreat (which is almost a synonym for defeat) and yet we all felt grand over it. But warn’t the men mad at somebody for leaving us? We were joined by a battery and the Thirtieth Regiment at 4 P. M. under Colonel Scammon, starting at the seasonable hour of 7 A. M.! We are now strong again, but driven from a most valuable position with a loss of stores we had captured worth thousands.

I am reported dangerously wounded by some of the cowardly cavalry (not Gilmore’s) who fled forty miles, reporting us “routed,” “cut to pieces,” and the like. Never was a man prouder of his regiment than I of the Twenty-third. I keep thinking how well they behaved. — Love to all.

Affectionately,

R B Hayes

12th, A. M. — Since writing the foregoing, we have got information which leads me to think it was probably well we were not reinforced. There would not have been enough to hold the position we had against so great a force as the enemy brought against us. You see we were twenty miles from their railroad, and only six to twelve hours from their great armies…

Mrs. Hayes.

Camp At Adair’s, Near Narrows Of New River,

May 11, 1862.

Sir: — Yesterday morning, 10th inst, at dawn, our mounted pickets three miles south of Parisburg [Pearisburg] gave notice that the enemy was approaching in order of battle. It was soon discovered that his force was from twenty-five hundred to three thousand, and that he had a battery of five pieces. In pursuance of your order and according to a plan previously arranged, the following disposition of my command was made. All our teams and all the teams we could press were loaded and started for the Narrows of New River. The cavalry under Captain Gilmore, numbering thirty-five, and detachments of two companies of the Second Virginia V. C. [Volunteer Cavalry] under Captains Emmons and Scott respectively were dispatched to the front with instructions to harrass and delay the enemy. Company H, Captain Drake, and Company B, Captain Sperry of the Twenty-third Regiment O. V. I. were assigned a similar duty. The remaining seven companies (Company C not having joined the regiment) of the Twenty-third Regiment were drawn up in line of battle on a ridge in the rear of the village and about a half a mile in rear of our skirmishers. My whole force did not exceed six hundred men.

The enemy on approaching the first line of skirmishers halted and opened upon it with their artillery. The enemy, soon after the firing commenced, sent detachments right and left to flank our skirmishers. The skirmishers slowly and in good order withdrew keeping up a constant and galling fire upon the advancing lines. The enemy continued to press forward slowly and occasionally halting until they reached the seven companies of the Twenty-third Regiment in line of battle. Our whole force was gradually pushed back, the enemy following with his whole force, halting frequently to place his guns in position. In this way the fight was kept up four or five hours when we reached the Narrows of New River five and a half miles north of Parisburg [Pearisburg]. Here we were able to take advantage of the narrow pass and brought the enemy to a stand. He made no serious effort to enter the Narrows in the face of the force I had posted at the extreme southern entrance of the Narrows at Wolf Creek Bridge.

After perhaps two hours’ delay the enemy succeeded in getting two guns on the opposite bank of New River and at a distance of two hundred and fifty or three hundred yards began to throw shell into the detachment defending the pass. Our force drew back to a new position out of range. The enemy again advanced his guns, and thus gradually we were forced to the lower entrance of the Narrows. No part of the enemy’s force succeeded in getting through the Narrows. About the time the enemy ceased to push forward, the cavalry under your command came up. The fighting lasted seven or eight hours during which time the detachment under my command retreated about seven miles.

Our loss was two killed and ten wounded and six missing. Of these the Twenty-third O. V. I. lost Private Hoyt C. Tenney, Company B, killed; and Privates Thomas Redmond, Company I, John Leisure, Company D, and Henry Ward, Company B, missing and probably taken prisoners. The wounded are all doing well. Sergeant-Major Eugene L. Reynolds was hit in the head by a fragment of shell while fighting in the front line of skirmishers and knocked down. He had a narrow escape, but was not seriously hurt. A severe wound was received by Sergeant O. H. Ferrell, Company H. The other wounds are all slight. The names of the injured in the Second Virginia Cavalry have not been sent in.

We brought off our prisoners taken when we entered Parisburg [Pearisburg] and carried away all our quartermaster stores and ammunition. We lost the provisions we had previously captured from the enemy (except what we had consumed), of which there was a large quantity. The enemy’s loss in killed and wounded is not known.

The officers and men of Captain Gilmore’s Cavalry behaved with the greatest gallantry during the entire day. The two companies of the Second Virginia Cavalry rendered important service when dismounted and acting as skirmishers on the right of our line in the morning. The Twenty-third Regiment, officers and men, were cool and steady and the whole retreat in the face, and for the most part under the fire of an overwhelming superior force was conducted without the slightest confusion or haste on their part.

It is much to be regretted that reinforcements which I had so frequently and urgently requested could not be sent in time to save Parisburg [Pearisburg], as the loss of position and property is very serious. [1]

Respectfully, R B. Hayes

Lieutenant-colonel 23D’regiment O. V. I.,

Commanding.

Copy [of] report to Colonel Scammon of retreat from Giles C. H. May 10, submitted May 11.


[1] [This paragraph] erased before signing on request of Colonel Scammon— not because I did not deem it true, but because he wished it, and I did not want to embarrass him.

Camp near Adair’s, Giles County, Virginia, Sunday (?) May 11. — This is the first Sunday that has passed without my knowing the day of the week since childhood. The men bivouacked on a sidehill near New River. Nothing exciting during the day. The enemy in the Narrows, but not coming through. Our masterly retreat of yesterday lost the Twenty-third one killed, Hoyt C. Tenney, Company B, and three missing — prisoners and mostly drunk; perhaps eight or ten wounded, generally slightly. The cavalry, one killed, three missing, and some wounded. Gilmore’s Cavalry, one killed and one wounded. The Twenty-third behaved admirably, cool, steady, obedient. A few cowards — a corporal or two in Company H, the most exposed company, a sergeant of Company , etc., etc.; but men of the Twenty-third with teams, etc., from Raleigh hastened to share our fate; five for every one who left. The Second Virginia Cavalry left us! Bad state of things.

Corinth and Hamburg Road, Miss., May 11, 1862.

You remember that in my last I spoke of a reconnoisance our people made on the 8th inst. On the 9th Beauregard returned it with interest, driving our advance back some two miles and almost scaring this wing of the Eagle. He appeared on our left flank, where I think Pope thought it impossible for him to reach, and drove Paine’s division from the front like a drove of sheep. Tis said that a charge made by the 2d Iowa Cavalry was the salvation of both of Paine’s brigades. The charge, if we hear correctly, was one of the most gallant things of the war. One of our battalions was out yesterday examining our left to see if the Rebels were still there. They found no signs of them, but on their return to camp were fired into by some of General Buford’s artillery, and one man killed by a 6-pound solid shot from Company A. There is almost incessant firing along the front but too light and scattering to forbode an immediate fight of itself, although ‘twould surprise no one to hear of the dance commencing at any hour. Corinth is a tremendously strong place, very difficult to approach, and holding a force that our officers think much superior to our own. This is kept from the army, though I don’t think now that we have more than 80,000 fighting men here. They must have over 100,000, and this conscription act is pouring in reinforcements to them by thousands. But, notwithstanding this, I think the superior discipline of our men will give us a victory when the fight does come. The strongest evidence that I see of Halleck’s weakness is his delaying the battle so long. We are in distance to strike any day; roads splendid, army in better condition every day than it will be the next day, weather becoming too hot for men to endure much longer, and yet we wait. What for, I don’t know, unless ’tis for reinforcements. They say Curtis and Siegel are coming. I hope they’ll get here to-night and finish the thing up to-morrow. The weather is taking the vim out of the men remarkably. To-day there is a good stray breeze, and yet a man can hardly get enough of the rarified stuff they call air here to fill his lungs. Plenty of chestnuts in this country. Plenty of hills and plenty of woods but a great scarcity of about everything else. There is no more soil on the earth here than you’ll find on any Illinois school house floor, and ’tis a question which would grow the best crops.

The colonel is anxious to have the regiment in the battle when it comes off, while your brother thinks if they can do the work without us he won’t be at all angry. I like skirmishing pretty well but am dubious about the fun showing itself so strongly in a battle. I guess I had a dozen shots thrown at me individually on the 8th at from 100 to 450 yards, and I got my return shot nearly every time and some extra ones, but rather think they all got off as well as I did. The carbines are not very correct shooters, and your brother is a ditto, so I have the satisfaction of knowing that I haven’t killed anybody yet.

MAY 11TH.—The Baltimore detectives are the lords of the ascendant. They crook a finger, and the best carriages in the street pause, turn round, and are subject to their will. They loll and roll in glory. And they ride on horseback, too—government horses, or horses pressed from gentlemen’s stables. One word of remonstrance, and the poor victim is sent to Castle Godwin.

Sunday, 11th—The Iowa Brigade moved two miles to the right, nearer to Corinth, and some of our boys came in upon the rebel pickets. We established another camp—camp number 6. The Eleventh Iowa was relieved from picket duty this evening.

May 11th.

I —I am disgusted with myself. No unusual thing, but I am peculiarly disgusted this time. Last evening, I went to Mrs. Brunot’s, without an idea of going beyond, with my flag flying again. They were all going to the State House, so I went with them; to my great distress, some fifteen or twenty Federal officers were standing on the first terrace, stared at like wild beasts by the curious crowd. I had not expected to meet them, and felt a painful conviction that I was unnecessarily attracting attention, by an unladylike display of defiance, from the crowd gathered there. But what was I to do? I felt humiliated, conspicuous, everything that is painful and disagreeable; but — strike my colors in the face of the enemy? Never! Nettie and Sophie had them, too, but that was no consolation for the shame I suffered by such a display so totally distasteful to me. How I wished myself away, and chafed at my folly, and hated myself for being there, and every one for seeing me. I hope it will be a lesson to me always to remember a lady can gain nothing by such display.

I was not ashamed of the flag of my country, — I proved that by never attempting to remove it in spite of my mortification, — but I was ashamed of my position; for these are evidently gentlemen, not the Billy Wilson’s crew we were threatened with. Fine, noble-looking men they were, showing refinement and gentlemanly bearing in every motion. One cannot help but admire such foes! They set us an example worthy of our imitation, and one we would be benefited by following. They come as visitors without either pretensions to superiority, or the insolence of conquerors; they walk quietly their way, offering no annoyance to the citizens, though they themselves are stared at most unmercifully, and pursued by crowds of ragged little boys, while even men gape at them with open mouths. They prove themselves gentlemen, while many of our citizens have proved themselves boors, and I admire them for their conduct. With a conviction that I had allowed myself to be influenced by bigoted, narrow-minded people, in believing them to be unworthy of respect or regard, I came home wonderfully changed in all my newly acquired sentiments, resolved never more to wound their feelings, who were so careful of ours, by such unnecessary display. And I hung my flag on the parlor mantel, there to wave, if it will, in the shades of private life; but to make a show, make me conspicuous and ill at ease, as I was yesterday, — never again!

There was a dozen officers in church this morning, and the psalms for the 11th day seemed so singularly appropriate to the feelings of the people, that I felt uncomfortable for them. They answered with us, though.

11th. Sunday. Issued rations, slept and read Independent. Wrote to Fannie Andrews.

11th.—No move to-day. Nothing of importance transpiring. Atmosphere filled with all kinds of rumors of battles, but nothing authentic. We are in a beautiful country, and about thirty miles from Richmond. I am not surprised at the enemy having made a point at Warwick Creek. It separates the most God-forsaken, from the most Godly favored country. From Newport News to Warwick is truly forbidding; but on crossing that stream we strike into a country the natural advantages of which are extremely inviting; but still the same antiquated appearance of the improvements prevails, and there are no evidences of thrift or economy. We are having warm days, but the nights are cool and invigorating.