Friday, 21st—Rain again today. All the men in the five different corps are at work fixing up their camp grounds. The army feels very sad and sorrowful over the death of the president.
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
21st. Ate supper yesterday with Minnie. Spent the morning playing with Carrie and reading. Afternoon Minnie and John over to tea. Went up town with Melissa. Fannie in Bellevue teaching. Fortunate for me. Rode out with Charlie. Took Carrie along. Tea at Minnie’s. Music from Joe and John. Fisher and Allie Norton there.
Chattanooga, Friday, April 21. The day has passed, lowering and threatening, however rained but little. Stood my guard very pleasantly. Got off from going foraging. Relieved at night. To-morrow morning on duty; this way they get six hours more duty out of us every guard day. M. L. Bancroft and F. Benoit returned from furlough. Captain Hood is quite sick.
New Creek, West Virginia, April 21, 1865.
Dear Uncle: — I am amused by your anxiety about General Hayes being relieved. “Tardiness” in the presence of the enemy was quite the opposite of my difficulties. Sheridan in one of his dispatches, spoke of Crook “with his usual impetuosity.” As my command led in the affair, it meant me. There are five General Hayes[es] in our service and two in the Rebel that I know of. Alexander, a gallant officer killed under Grant, William, who has charge of the draft in New York City, Ed of Ohio, and Joseph who had charge of exchange of prisoners. He is the tardy one who is reported relieved.
My command is [the] Second Brigade, First Division, Army of West Virginia — a large brigade of calvary, artillery, and infantry. We are now busy paroling guerrillas and the like. All, from Mosby down, seem disposed to quit and surrender. If the feeling continues, we shall soon have peace throughout Virginia, at least.
Sincerely,
R. B. Hayes.
S. Birchard.
Mrs. Lyon’s Diary.
April 21, 1865.—We started at five o’clock this morning and marched three miles beyond Greenville. It was so warm that many of the boys threw away their blankets, and some threw away their overcoats, they were so burdensome. They say if the war is over they will not need them again. We came to a beautiful spring and the men filled their canteens. I saw one man drop out of the ranks and go and lie in the corner of the fence, and I asked the orderly to tell the surgeon that there was a man left. He came back to see him and found him dead. He had drunk too much cold water, and being so very heated it had stopped the heart’s action. There were several ill from the same cause.
