Friday, 30.—Last night Dr. Joe and I did our best to house in Mrs. Sea’s barn (a good Union lady, two sons in the army), the Germans of the Ninth, who lay in the mud, without shelter. Spent today in a jolly way, resting.
______
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.
