Mrs. Lyon’s Diary.
April 22, 1865.—We started at five o’clock in the morning so as to get the cool of the day. Had a hard march. Got to Bull’s Gap in advance of the other troops.
April 2015
April 26.—Now we have the news that J. Wilkes Booth, who shot the President and who has beenconcealing himself in Virginia, has been caught, and refusing to surrender was shot dead. It has taken just twelve days to bring him to retribution. I am glad that he is dead if he could not be taken alive, but it seems as though shooting was too good for him. However, we may as well take this as really God’s way, as the death of the President, for if he had been taken alive, the country would have been so furious to get at him and tear him to pieces the turmoil would have been great and desperate. It may be the best way to dispose of him. Of course, it is best, or it would not be so. Mr. Morse called this evening and he thinks Booth was shot by a lot of cowards. The flags have been flying all day, since the news came, but all, excepting Albert Granger, seem sorry that he was not disabled instead of being shot dead. Albert seems able to look into the “beyond ” and also to locate departed spirits. His “latest” is that he is so glad that Booth got to h—l before Abraham Lincoln got to Springfield.
Mr. Fred Thompson went down to New York last Saturday and while stopping a few minutes at St. Johnsville, he heard a man crowing over the death of the President. Mr. Thompson marched up to him, collared him and landed him nicely in the gutter. The bystanders were delighted and carried the champion to a platform and called for a speech, which was given. Quite a little episode. Every one who hears the story, says: “Three cheers for F. F. Thompson.”
The other afternoon at our society Kate Lapham wanted to divert our minds from gossip I think, and so started a discussion upon the respective characters of Washington and Napoleon. It was just after supper and Laura Chapin was about resuming her sewing and she exclaimed, “Speaking of Washington, makes me think that I ought to wash my hands,” so she left the room for that purpose.
April 22.—There is much excitement in town. News has just come that there is an armistice, and that we had been recognized by France, England, Spain, and Austria; Lincoln has been assassinated, and Seward badly wounded. I was going down town when I heard great hurrahing: as we had heard that there was another raid coming, I was terribly alarmed, thinking it was the enemy coming in triumph, but was informed that it was a car filled with our men and Federals hurrying up to Atlanta, with a flag of truce, to let all know about the armistice. None of our people believe any of the rumors, thinking them as mythical as the surrender of General Lee’s army. They look upon it as a plot to deceive the people. Many think that Governor Brown has sold the state. There is evidently a crisis in our affairs.
April 22nd, 1865.—Aunt Margaret is going back to her home in Tennessee. She had letters today telling her General Fish had possession of her house as his headquarters. As soon as she can get the place she is going back. I will miss my jolly cousins dreadfully and Aunt Margaret too, but I know they will feel better to be at home once more. They have been refugees for four years and they must be tired of wandering.
Brother Junius looks more like himself. He has been to Neck-or-nothing Hall and found the plantation in good order and his servants were so glad to see him. His cook was loud in her denunciations of John, his man, who deserted to the enemy a year ago.
“Dat sure is a sorry nigger,” said she “ter up an’ leffen Marse Junius doubten nobody ter wait on him nur blacken his boots.”
His visit to his plantation did him good, we think. Father has conquered himself and you would never know how terribly he felt and must still feel, though, he is so cheerful and so helpful to others.
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.
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.
Thursday, 20th—It rained some today. We spent the day in raising our tents. There is great rejoicing in camp. Many think that peace is made, and that in a few days we shall likely start for home.
