Following the American Civil War Sesquicentennial with day by day writings of the time, currently 1863.

Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes

July 28, 1862. Monday. — Received letters from Mother, June 3 and July 17, and from Platt, July 22. Platt says Governor Tod will not appoint men now in the field because he needs the officers at home to aid in recruiting the regiments. This is foolish. If volunteering has to be hired(?) and forced, we had better resort to drafting. That is the true course! Draft!

Rode with Major Comly to Flat Top. No news there of much note. Colonel Scammon was nominated for a brigadiership by the President but there are seventy others of whom eighteen were confirmed, making it is said the two hundred allowed by law. So the thing seems to be up. Whether the Governor will confirm the nomination of the Hamilton County committee does not yet appear.

July 25, 1862. Friday. — Preparations for the trip. We go from this camp immediately after dinner.

Camp Green Meadows, July 23, 1862.

Dearest: — I today received a dispatch from Captain Clements that I have been appointed colonel of the Seventy-ninth Regiment to be made up in Warren and Clinton Counties. I shall make no definite decision as to acceptance until I get official notice of it. I suppose it is correct. I shall much hate to leave the Twenty-third. I can’t possibly like another regiment as well, and am not likely to be as acceptable myself to another regiment. If there was a certainty of promotion to the command of the Twenty-third, I would certainly wait for it. But between you and I [me], Colonel Scammon is not likely to deserve promotion, and will perhaps fail to get it. If he gets it he will probably keep command of the Twenty-third — that is, have it in his brigade. Besides, I begin to fear another winter in these mountains. I could stand it after two or three months’ vacation with you in Ohio, but to go straight on another year in this sort of service is a dark prospect. Altogether, much as I love the Twenty-third, I shall probably leave it. I shall put off the evil day as long as I can, hoping something will turn up to give me this regiment, but when the decision is required, I shall probably decide in favor of the new regiment and a visit to you and the boys. I know nothing of the Seventy-ninth except that a son of the railroad superintendent, W. H. Clements, is to be major. I knew him as a captain in the Twelfth, a well-spoken-of youngster. It will be a sad day all around when I leave here.

Last night various doings at headquarters of brigade disgusted me so much, that before I went to sleep I pretty much resolved to get up this morning and write in the most urgent manner soliciting promotion in a new regiment to get out of the scrape. But when this morning brings me the news that I have got what I had determined to ask, I almost regret it. “Such is war!”

Write me all you learn, if anything, about the new regiments — what sort of people go into them, — are they likely ever to fill up? Etc., etc.

24th, A. M. — A year ago tonight you and I walked about Camp Chase looking at the men cooking their rations to be ready to leave the next morning. A short and a long year. Upon the whole, not an unhappy one. Barring the separation from you, it has been a healthy fine spree to me.

Since writing to you yesterday I learn from Dr. Joe, who is now here, that there really seems to be a fair prospect of Colonel Scammon’s promotion. This will probably induce me to hold off as long as I can about the Seventy-ninth business. You can simply say you don’t know if you are asked before hearing further as to what I shall do. — Love to all the boys.

Affectionately,

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

July 23. Wednesday. — Marched four companies to Bluestone; bathed. A good evening drill.

Last evening I fell into a train of reflection on the separation of the regiment, so long continued, so unmilitary, and so causeless, with the small prospect of getting relief by promotion or otherwise in the Twenty-third, and as a result pretty much determined to write this morning telling brother William [Platt] that I would like a promotion to a colonelcy in one of the new regiments. Well, this morning, on the arrival of the mail, I get a dispatch from W. H. Clements that I am appointed colonel of the Seventy-ninth, a regiment to be made up in Hamilton, Warren, and Clinton Counties. Now, shall I accept? It is hard to leave the Twenty-third. I shall never like another regiment so well. Another regiment is not likely to think as much of me. I am puzzled. If I knew I could get a chance for promotion in the Twenty-third in any reasonable time, I would decline the Seventy-ninth. But, then, Colonel Scammon is so queer and crotchety that he is always doing something to push aside his chance for a brigadiership. Well, I will postpone the evil day of decision as long as possible.

July 21. Monday. — We are target firing now. The Enfields are a little better sighted than the muskets; the muskets have most power and the longest range. Company C does rather the best shooting, Companies E and A coming next.

A zouave at the Flat Top camp found tied to a tree with five bullet holes through him! Naked too! An enemy’s cavalry patrol seen two miles outside of our pickets. Secesh, ten or twelve in number.

Camp Green Meadows, Mercer County, Virginia, July 20,1862. Sunday.—Morgan’s gang, or Rebels encouraged by him, have got into Warrick County, Indiana. This is the first successful (if it turns out successful) invasion of free soil. I regret it on that account. I wished to be able to say that no inch of free soil had been polluted by the footstep of an invader. However, this is rather an incursion of robbers than of soldiers. I suppose no soldiers have yet set foot on our soil.

I wish we were near or amidst the active movements. We ought to be sent somewhere.

Camp Green Meadows, July 18, 1862. Friday. — Rained last night and drizzled all this morning. … I feel dourish today; inaction is taking the soul out of us.

I am really jolly over the Rebel Morgan’s raid into the bluegrass region of Kentucky. If it turns out a mere raid, as I suppose it will, the thing will do great good. The twitter into which it throws Cincinnati and Ohio will aid us in getting volunteers. The burning and destroying the property of the old-fashioned, conservative Kentuckians will wake them up, will stiffen their sinews, give them backbone, and make grittier Union men of them. If they should burn Garrett Davis’ house, he will be sounder on confiscation and the like. In short, if it does not amount to an uprising, it will be a godsend to the Union cause. It has done good in Cincinnati already. It has committed numbers who were sliding into Secesh to the true side. Good for Morgan, as I understand the facts at this writing!

Had a good drill. The exercise and excitement drove away the blues. After drill a fine concert of the glee club of Company A. As they sang “That Good Old Word, Good-bye,” I thought of the pleasant circle that used to sing it on Gulf Prairie, Brazoria County, Texas. And now so broken! And my classmate and friend, Guy M. Bryan — where is he? In the Rebel army! As honorable and true as ever, but a Rebel! What strange and sad things this war produces! But he is true and patriotic wherever he is. Success to him personally!

Camp Green Meadows, Mercer County, Virginia,

July 17, 1862.

Dear Uncle : — . . . I am not satisfied that so good men as two-thirds of this army should be kept idle. New troops could hold the strong defensive positions which are the keys of the Kanawha Valley, while General Cox’s eight or ten good regiments could be sent where work is to be done.

Barring this idea of duty, no position could be pleasanter than the present. I have the Twenty-third Regiment, half a battery, and a company of cavalry under my command stationed on the edge of Dixie — part of us here, fourteen miles, and part at Packs Ferry, nineteen miles from Flat Top, and Colonel Scammon’s and General Cox’s headquarters. This is pleasant. Then, we have a lovely camp, copious cold-water springs, and the lower camp is on the banks of New River, a finer river than the Connecticut at Northampton, with plenty of canoes, flat-boats, and good fishing and swimming. The other side of the river is enemy’s country. We cross foraging parties daily to their side. They do not cross to ours, but are constantly threatening it. We moved here last Sunday, the 13th. On the map you will see our positions in the northeast corner of Mercer County on New River, near the mouth of and north of Bluestone River. Our camps five miles apart — Major Comly commands at the river, I making my headquarters here on the hill. We have pickets and patrols connecting us. I took the six companies to the river, with music, etc., etc., to fish and swim Tuesday.

It is now a year since we entered Virginia. What a difference it makes! Our camp is now a pleasanter place with its bowers and contrivances for comfort than even Spiegel Grove. And it takes no ordering or scolding to get things done. A year ago if a little such work was called for, you would hear grumblers say: “I didn’t come to dig and chop, I could do that at home. I came to fight,” etc., etc. Now springs are opened, bathing places built, bowers, etc., etc., got up as naturally as corn grows. No sickness either — about eight hundred and fifteen to eight hundred and twenty men — none seriously sick and only eight or ten excused from duty. All this is very jolly.

We have been lucky with our little raids in getting horses, cattle, and prisoners. Nothing important enough to blow about, although a more literary regiment would fill the newspapers out of less material. We have lost but one man killed and one taken prisoner during this month. There has been some splendid running by small parties occasionally. Nothing but the enemy’s fear of being ambushed saved four of our officers last Saturday. So far as our adversaries over the river goes, they treat our men taken prisoners very well. The Forty-fifth, Twenty-second, Thirty-sixth, and Fifty-first Virginia are the enemy’s regiments opposed to us. They know us and we know them perfectly well. Prisoners say their scouts hear our roll-calls and that all of them enjoy our music.

There are many discouraging things in the present aspect of affairs, and until frost in October, I expect to hear of disasters in the Southwest. It is impossible to maintain our conquests in that quarter while the low stage of water and the sickness compel us to act on the defensive, but if there is no powerful intervention by foreign powers, we shall be in a condition next December to push them to the Gulf and the Atlantic before winter closes. Any earlier termination, I do not look for.

Two years is an important part of a man’s life in these fast days, but I shall be content if I am mustered out of service at the end of two years from enlistment. — Regards to all.

Sincerely,

R. B. Hayes.

S. BIRCHARD.

Camp Green Meadows, July 16, 1862. Wednesday. — A warm, beautiful day. The men busy building shades (bowers or arbors) over their streets and tents, cleaning out the springs, and arranging troughs for watering horses, washing, and bathing. The water is excellent and abundant.

I read “Waverley,” finishing it. The affection of Flora McIvor for her brother and its return is touching; they were orphans. And oh, this is the anniversary of the death of my dear sister Fanny — six years ago! I have thought of her today as I read Scott’s fine description, but till now it did not occur to me that this was the sad day. Time has softened the pain. How she would have suffered during this agonizing war! Perhaps it was best — but what a loss!

Green Meadows, July 15, 1862. Tuesday. — Captain Drake with Companies H and I returned this morning. The mounted men crossed the ford just above Bluestone on New River. The water was too deep and current too strong for footmen. They (the horsemen) called at Landcraft’s, Young’s, etc., etc. They learned that the only enemy now in Monroe is probably the Forty-fifth [Virginia], some cavalry, and artillery; and they have withdrawn from the river towards Centreville or some other distant part of the county. All others gone to or towards the Narrows or railroad.

At 9 o’clock I took four companies, A, C, E, and K, and the band and went to Packs Ferry. There the men went in swimming. Crossed 262 of them in the flying bridge — an affair like this [a crude pen sketch is given] — which swings from side to side of the river by force of the current alone. The bow (whichever way the boat goes) is pulled by means of a windlass up the stream at a small angle. The men enjoyed the spree.

We returned at 6:30 P. M. The scenery is of the finest; the river is a beautiful clear river. Strange, no fish except catfish, but they are of superior quality and often of great size.

The enemy shows signs of activity in Tennessee again. Our men will have a hard time during the next two or three months trying to hold their conquests. We will have our day when cold weather and high water return, not before. About Richmond there is much mystery, but supposed to be favorable.