April 30th. We have information, through Col. Ackelon, I believe, that a battle has been fought to-day at Grand Gulf, between our naval forces under Rear-Admiral Porter, and the rebels, in which we lost one of our gunboats, but were successful in driving the enemy out of some of their batteries and silencing some of their guns. We have hopes that by the landing of some of Gen. Grant’s men a short distance above and in the rear of Grand Gulf, and storming same, that it has been taken possession of ere this. The prospects of the Mississippi river soon being clear of obstructions are brightening every day.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Thursday, 30th.—Heavy cannonading on Chickasaw Bayou. Reported that Federals tried to cross, but were driven back with pretty heavy loss.
Camp White, West Virginia, April 30, 1863.
Dear Uncle: — I have received yours of the 25th. I am not surprised to hear you are going into business under Governor Chase’s Bank Law. I thought of suggesting it, but knew so little about it that I could form no intelligent opinion1 . . .
You can come here well enough. There is of course a possibility of being cut off, but very small probability of it. I do not doubt that the Rebels will get in below us, but we shall certainly hear of it in time to ship off all who are not ready to stay. Lucy would like to come with you, but you will not bring her unless you find it quite convenient to do so.
Sincerely,
R. B. Hayes.
S. Birchard.
1 Mr. Birchard was promptly taking steps to convert his bank into a national bank under the new law. It became the First National Bank of Fremont, and was the fifth bank in the country to be chartered by the Government.
30th. After breakfast, mustered. Issued two days’ rations. Lt. Abbey started for Stanford for rations. Bob, Ritter and I overtook the column five miles from Mills Springs. 103rd, 27th N. J., 112th 1ll. crossed at the upper ford. Commenced crossing at Mills Springs at 10 A. M. Unsaddled and got tea. Skirmishing over the river. Saddled up and hastened to the river by order. Swam the horses, ferried the men. Amusing to see the horses. Several drowned. Hard to get them across. Lay down on the bank. So much noise, could not sleep much. Crossing all night. Fannie’s birthday (nineteen).
30th April (Thursday).—I have to-day acquired my first experience of Texan railroads.
In this country, where every white man is as good as another (by theory), and every white female is by courtesy a lady, there is only one class. The train from Alleyton consisted of two long cars, each holding about fifty persons. Their interior is like the aisle of a church, twelve seats on either side, each for two persons. The seats are comfortably stuffed, and seemed luxurious after the stage.
Before starting, the engine gives two preliminary snorts, which, with a yell from the official of “all aboard,” warn the passengers to hold on; for they are closely followed by a tremendous jerk, which sets the cars in motion.
Every passenger is allowed to use his own discretion about breaking his arm, neck, or leg, without interference by the railway officials.
People are continually jumping on and off whilst the train is in motion, and larking from one car to the other. There is no sort of fence or other obstacle to prevent “humans” or cattle from getting on the line.
We left Alleyton at 8 A.M., and got a miserable meal at Richmond at 12.30. At this little town I was introduced to a seedy-looking man, in rusty black clothes and a broken-down “stove-pipe” hat. This was Judge Stockdale, who will probably be the next governor of Texas. He is an agreeable man, and his conversation is far superior to his clothing. The rival candidate is General Chambers (I think), who has become very popular by the following sentence in his manifesto:— “I am of opinion that married soldiers should be given the opportunity of embracing their families at least once a-year, their places in the ranks being taken by unmarried men. The population must not be allowed to suffer.”
Richmond is on the Brazos river, which is crossed in a peculiar manner. A steep inclined plane leads to a low, rickety, trestle bridge, and a similar inclined plane is cut in the opposite bank. The engine cracks on all steam, and gets sufficient impetus in going down the first incline to shoot across the bridge and up the second incline. But even in Texas this method of crossing a river is considered rather unsafe.
After crossing the river in this manner, the rail traverses some very fertile land, part of which forms the estate of the late Colonel Terry. There are more than two hundred negroes on the plantation. Some of the fields were planted with cotton and Indian corn mixed, three rows of the former between two of the latter. I saw also fields with cotton and sugar mixed.
We changed carriages at Harrisburg, and I completed my journey to Houston on a cotton truck.
The country near Houston is very pretty, and is studded with white wooden villas, which are raised off the ground on blocks like haystacks. I reached Houston at 4.30 P.m., and drove to the Fannin House hotel.
Houston is a much better place than I expected. The main street can boast of many well-built brick and iron houses. It was very full, as it now contained all the refugees from the deserted town of Galveston.
After an extremely mild supper, I was introduced to Lieutenant Lee, a wounded hero, who lost his leg at Shiloh; also to Colonel Pyron, a distinguished officer, who commands the regiment named after him.
The fat German, Mr Lee, and myself, went to the theatre afterwards.
As a great favour, my British prejudices were respected, and I was allowed a bed to myself; but the four other beds in the room had two occupants each. A captain, whose acquaintance I had made in the cars, slept in the next bed to me. Directly after we had got into bed a negro came in, who, squatting down between our beds, began to clean our boots. The Southerner pointed at the slave, and thus held forth: —”Well, Kernel, I reckon you’ve got servants in your country, but not of that colour. Now, sir, this is a real genuine African. He’s as happy as the day’s long; and if he was on a sugar plantation he’d be dancing half the night; but if you was to collect a thousand ot them together, and fire one bomb in amongst them, they’d all run like h—ll.” The negro grinned, and seemed quite flattered.
Thursday, 30th—Came up, I and Albright, to Brown’s Mill. Regimental wagons ordered to Sparta. Regiment on detached duty; spent night with Cousin James Hawkins.
Thursday, 30th—Our provision train returned from the landing today. There was some very heavy cannonading at Grand Gulf today, where it is reported that the rebels are strongly fortified. Some of our transports ran the blockade at Vicksburg last night. The Eleventh Iowa was mustered for pay today. The sergeant-major reports the regiment as having five hundred and fifty men fit for duty.
April 30 — Rained nearly all last night, which it rendered very disagreeable, for we were without the least sign of a shelter. A trio of us, all old campaigners at that, were very indiscreet in choosing a bed-chamber on the lower floor of the outdoor hotel, and in a rather depressed portion of the floor, and the impressive consequence was that the water ran under us just before day, and we had to get out of bed an hour or two before reveille to keep out of the water. No more bed-making in a sink hole for me on a rainy night, after this little striking experience.
Renewed our march over a rough road, through a long narrow ravine drained by the headwaters of Dry River, and filled with wild mountain scenery from end to end. At some places the steep, rugged ridges rise almost perpendicular from the roadside, and huge masses of moss-covered rocks stand out in bold relief from the evergreen tangle that hides the roughness of the craggy acclivities.
We passed Rawley Springs to-day, situated on a grassy hillside rising from the right bank of Dry River, twelve miles northwest of Harrisonburg. The environments of the Springs are delightful, the scenery is just picturesque enough to hang between the mountain hills and the plain, and its enjoyableness is greatly enhanced by the wild sweet music of the river’s soft roar as it murmuringly rolls from its umbrageous mountain wanderings to roam among the sunny fields of the open valley near by. Rawley is a pleasant summer resort of local reputation, and judging from the thick coating of rust on the old tin cup that hung by the spring the water is strongly impregnated with iron, therefore has valuable medicinal qualities.
Little before sunset we arrived at our old camp near Harrisonburg, and as a fitting finale to our mountain expedition we had a hard thunder shower just as we reached camp. I had built myself a good shelter in our camp before we started to West Virginia, which was waterproof in any common rain. This evening after we came back to our old camp I went to my house with the intention of occupying it, but when I looked in at the door I saw an old sow lying in my bedroom, with at least a bushel of new pigs around her, and from all appearances my house is where they first saw the light.
Thursday, April 30th.
Was not the recollection of this day bitter enough to me already? I did not think it could be more so.
Yet behold me crying as I have not cried for many and many a day. Not for Harry; I dare not cry for him. I feel a deathlike quiet when I think of him; a fear that even a deep-drawn breath would wake him in his grave. And as dearly as I love you, O Hal, I don’t want you in this dreary world again. . . .
Talk of the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes! Talk of Louis XIV! Of — pshaw! my head is in such a whirl that history gets all mixed up, and all parallels seem weak and moderate in comparison to this infamous outrage. To-day, thousands of families, from the most respectable down to the least, all who have had the firmness to register themselves enemies to the United States, are ordered to leave the city before the fifteenth of May. Think of the thousands, perfectly destitute, who can hardly afford to buy their daily bread even here, sent to the Confederacy, where it is neither to be earned nor bought, without money, friends, or a home. Hundreds have comfortable homes here, which will be confiscated to enrich those who drive them out. “It is an ill wind that blows no one good.” Such dismal faces as one meets everywhere! Each looks heartbroken. Homeless, friendless, beggars, is written in every eye. Brother’s face is too unhappy to make it pleasant to look at him. True, he is safe; but hundreds of his friends are going forth destitute, leaving happy homes behind, not knowing where the crust of bread for famishing children is to come from to-morrow. He went to General Bowens and asked if it were possible that women and children were included in the order. Yes, he said; they should all go, and go in the Confederacy. They should not be allowed to go elsewhere. Penned up like sheep to starve! That’s the idea! With the addition of forty thousand mouths to feed, they think they can invoke famine to their aid, seeing that their negro brothers don’t help them much in the task of subjugating us.
• • • • • • • •
Don’t care who knows I smuggled in a dozen letters! Wish I had had more!
April 30. — General Benham went up to General Hooker’s in the morning and came back to breakfast, saying that he [Benham] had been accused of being drunk, and that that was the cause of the delay in laying the bridges. He asked all his staff what they thought, and received in answer that they considered him intoxicated. He asked me about it, and I had to tell him my opinion of the matter. He received an order in the afternoon to take two of his bridges up and go to Bank’s Ford, and lay them by daylight, at which time the enemy would have evacuated. On the way to General Hooker’s, he asked me why I had told Colonel McMahon that he was drunk. I gave him my reasons. At dusk we went down to the river, and had two bridges taken up, and started for Bank’s Ford with them, one train leaving at 11 P.M., and the other at 12.
