October 21st. We are rejoicing over the defeat of Early, and Sheridan’s great victory. We are also happy over the part our corps, the 8th under Crook, had in bringing about the great victory. It was not our fault that we were not there. We continue our picket duty and laboring for the good of Martinsburg and the railroad.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Etowah Bridge, Friday, Oct. 21. After dinner our Platoon harnessed up three teams to a wagon to go after brick for chimneys. Before starting Dan Goodwin brought a big mail from town in which were seven for me. Hailed a lot of stationary sent by Evie. Read my letters on my way after brick. Went about three miles from camp. When we returned found Lieutenant Simpson and fifteen of the boys gone to Nashville for horses to fill up the Battery. Marching rumors again afloat. All convalescents not able to march ordered to Chattanooga. Dan went out of our tent, five out of the Platoon, leaving me a team to take care of until they return.
Friday, 21st—The Fourth, Fourteenth, Fifteenth, Seventeenth and Twenty-third Army Corps have concentrated here and are in bivouac. Foraging parties are sent out from the different corps, as there are some rich plantations in this section. Our corps moved camp today about four miles. All is quiet in the front. The report is that the rebels are retreating toward the Blue mountains.
Camp Near Strasburg, Virginia, October 21, 1864.
Dear Uncle:—Early reinforced by a division or two of Longstreet’s Corps was foolish enough to attack us again on the 19th. It was a foggy morning, and the attack before daylight. One of General Crook’s divisions (the First) was doubled up and our whole army flanked out of its position in confusion. But after daylight, order was gradually restored and in the afternoon, General Sheridan attacked in turn; retook all we had lost and utterly ruined Early. It was done easily and with small loss.
The fact is, all the fight is out of Early’s men. They have been whipped so much that they can’t keep a victory after it is gained. This is the last of fighting on this line, I am confident. My horse was killed under me instantly, dashing me on the ground violently. Luckily, I was not hurt much. I was hit fairly in the head with a spent ball. Narrow escapes! The Rebels got my saddle, pistol, etc.
The elections also are encouraging. In haste.
Sincerely,
R. B. Hayes
P. S. — General Max Weber, a “veteran of European reputation,” and one of the senior brigadiers in our service, came out yesterday with the intention of taking command of this division. General Crook sent him to Hagerstown, Maryland, to await orders!
S. Birchard.
21st. Friday. Moved camp. Wrote a line home. Beautiful day. Letter from home yesterday. Regt. went on picket.
Camp At Cedar Creek Near Strasburg, Virginia,
October 21, 1864.
My Darling: — We have had another important victory over General Early’s oft-defeated army. Reinforced by a division or two of Longstreet’s Corps, he was foolish enough to follow and attack us here on the 19th. In the darkness and fog of early morning he was successful in doubling up our left flank, held by General Crook’s little First Division, and so flanking our whole army out of its position, capturing for the time our camps, a good many cannon, and perhaps fifteen hundred prisoners. But soon after it got light, we began to recover and finally checked and held them.
In the afternoon we took the offensive and without much difficulty or loss flogged them completely, capturing all their cannon, trains, etc., etc., and retaking all we had lost besides many prisoners. The Rebels marched off a part of our prisoners. For a time things looked squally, but the truth is, all the fighting capacity of Early’s army was taken out of it in the great battle at Winchester a month ago. My loss was small. In the Thirteenth Lieutenant-Colonel Hall, a conspicuously brave and excellent officer, was killed. Lieutenant McBride (of [the] Twelfth) was wounded in [the] Twenty-third; two officers of [the] Fifth [Virginia] ditto.
As usual with me I had some narrow escapes. While galloping rapidly, my fine large black horse was killed instantly, tumbling heels over head and dashing me on the ground violently. Strange to say I was only a little bruised and was able to keep the saddle all day. (Mem..: — I lost all my horse trappings, saddle, etc., including my small pistol.) I was also hit fairly in the head by a ball which had lost its force in getting (I suppose) through somebody else! It gave me only a slight shock. — I think serious fighting on this line is now over.
. . . I suppose you are pleased with the result of the election. Of course, I am, on general reasons. My particular gratification is much less than it would be, if I were not so much gratified by my good luck in winning “golden opinions” in the more stirring scenes around me here. My share of notoriety here is nothing at all, and my real share of merit is also small enough, I know, but the consciousness that I am doing my part in these brilliant actions is far more gratifying than anything the election brings me.
Love to all. I am more than anxious to see you again.
Affectionately ever, your
R.
Mrs. Hayes.
Friday, October 21. — Lieutenant Eichberg was on to-day, the first time for a long while. Had half-sashes of glass put in to-day. Each pane was made up of four or five pieces.
Gaylesville, Ala., October 21, 1864.
Marched about 18 miles yesterday down a very fine valley, between Lookout Mountain and Taylor’s Ridge, crossed the latter after dark through a pass that beat all for blackness and stones, to tumble over, that I ever saw. Got a very large mail yesterday, but only one letter from you. We move again this morning, but don’t know when. Can send a letter back from here, first chance we have had this month. I guess we have halted here to wait the building of a bridge over the Coosa. The Rebels burned it yesterday.
What we are going for nobody knows. I saw Sherman yesterday as we passed through Gaylesville. He was talking with Jeff. C. Davis. He always has a cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth. It is always about half-gone, but I never saw it lighted. He is certainly the most peculiar-looking man I ever saw. At one house we passed this morning we saw three of the ugliest-looking women imaginable. They sat on the porch step, side by side, hoopless, unkempt and unwashed. I’ll swear that man never before witnessed three such frights together. All three were singing a Rebel song. I knew they were trying to sing, but although close to them, could not distinguish a word. Some of the men recognized the tune as belonging to a tune called the “Rebel Soldier.” The men were so completely surprised and thunderstruck by the show that they had not a word to say. It tickles us to see that you home folks are uneasy about us because Hood has got into our rear. I tell you that I have not seen a man uneasy for a minute, on that subject, and that Hood has to run like a hound to get away from us. If Hood’s army was to-day, twice as strong as it is, we would be too many for him.
Henry Adams, private secretary of the US Minister to the UK, to his brother, Charles.
London, October 21, 1864
Our news this week stops with unusual abruptness what promised to be a very remarkable episode. Grant moves like the iron wall in Poe’s story. You expect something tremendous, and it’s only a step after all. Of course the process is all the more sure from its methodical slowness, but it alters the nature of the drama. Here am I puzzling myself to understand why it is that Petersburg does not fall, and when Grant means to take it. For it seems to me that he might now compel its abandonment in several ways. And yet Lee prefers to see us creep nearer and nearer our point, and does not accept what to an outsider seems the necessity of his position. Jeff. Davis’s speech at Macon gives more light on the question than anything else. Of course there may be some inaccuracy in reporting, but his explanations are very reasonable, and his statement about Early’s campaign shows how much he expected from it. That failing to draw Grant away, there seems nothing left but to draw out their resistance to the last moment. But how Lee can cover Meade on three sides, and protect Richmond and the connecting railway too, I can’t quite see. . . .
October 21 — Our little steamer left Baltimore yesterday evening just before dark, and was steadily plowing its way down Chesapeake Bay all night, until this morning about nine o’clock, when we arrived at Point Lookout, Md., the place of our destination, and one of Uncle Sam’s delightful resorts for the accommodation of captured Rebels. Last night the air was damp, cold, and chilly, and when night fell on the Bay I wrapped my blanket around me and sat on top of our steamer, leaning against the wheel-house and rail, without sleeping a wink all night, gazing into the thick darkness that hung like a black pall over the silent water, with my thoughts busily engaged in plodding from whence to whither. After we disembarked we were subjected to another thorough search. This time we were formed in a hollow square and told to unwrap, spread out, and disgorge everything we had, and I saw more soiled shirts laid about on the sand than I ever saw before in one patch. After everything was on exhibition and ready for examination, the great chief of the searching board made the following little speech, with well measured and distinctly spoken words: “Now, men, if you have anything valuable about your person or effects in the way of watches, jewelry, or money, we give you an opportunity to turn it over to us, and we will put your name on it and deposit it at the provost marshal’s office and give you a certificate of deposit; and when you leave this prison, either on exchange or release, and present your certificate, we will return the goods left in our charge. But if you fail or refuse to comply with these regulations submitted in good faith, we will search you thoroughly right now, and if we find anything of the kind mentioned it will be confiscated for all time to come.”
And now a single instance to illustrate how close these Yanks search when they are on the least scent of suspicion, or when they suspect anything not in strict conformity with their regulations. One of our men had a plain gold ring with which he did not want to part under any consideration or circumstances, consequently he hid the ring in a small piece of bacon that he had in his haversack. He had cut a small gash in the fat part of the meat and stuck the ring within it, then closed the cut nicely by pressing the meat together. I have no idea where he got the little piece of bacon — perhaps he saved it especially for a jewel case, and had had it ever since we were captured. I do not know when he did the hiding, possibly immediately after he was captured; it certainly was a neat job, but the Yank found the ring. In accordance with their inflexible regulations they were about to confiscate the ring after they found it, but our man pleaded so earnestly and affectingly that at last they put his name on the ring and deposited it at the provost marshal’s office. He told them that it was not the intrinsic value of the ring nor any intention of evil upon his part that induced him to conceal it, but that it was through sincere admiration for the tender association connected with it that made him so loath to part with it. It was a precious memorial of something nearer than friendship — a souvenir from his deceased wife.
After the search and before the men put up their exhibits one of the authorities made the following characteristic and interesting proclamation: “All you men that have no good shirt would better appropriate one now, as you may not have another opportunity soon to obtain one at our establishment.”
Some of our men had three or four good shirts spread out on the sand, and that seemed to be more than our good Northern brethren thought that a poor Rebel was entitled to or needed, and, moreover, if we supplied ourselves from the superabundance of a comrade’s knapsack it would be a shirt saved for Uncle Sam.
I left my knapsack in Dixie, and consequently I have but one shirt, and that is in a state of decay and ready to disintegrate at various places almost any day, but my finer sensibilities of genteel comeliness revolted at the idea of securing a shirt that had been worn and soiled even by a better and cleaner man than I consider myself to be; furthermore, I did not feel mean enough to deprive any of my comrades of their legitimate property.
About middle of the day all the preliminaries for incarceration were concluded, and being thoroughly divested of everything except pure cheek wherewith a sentinel could be bribed or cajoled, we were marched up to the prison wall, the gate swung open, and we soon after bobbed up serenely inside of prison.
