Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes

Camp Green Meadwos, July 13, 1862. Sunday. — Struck tents this morning on Flat Top at 5 A. M. and marched to this place, reaching here at 11:30A. M., fourteen miles; a jolly march down the mountain under a hot sun. Many sore feet.

Band played its lively airs; the men cheered, and all enjoyed the change. We are east of Camp Jones and about three miles from the mouth of Bluestone River and New River, within six miles of camp at Packs Ferry on New River. The camp being one thousand to fifteen hundred feet lower than Flat Top is warmer. We shall learn how to bear summer weather here. Our waggons arrived about 6:30 P. M. We relieved here two companies of the Thirtieth under Captain Gross. I command here six companies Twenty-third, Captain Gilmore’s Cavalry, a squad of Second Virginia, a squad of McMullen’s Battery, and a squad on picket of Captain Harrison’s Cavalry.

July 12, 1862. Saturday. — Received orders today to move to Green Meadows tomorrow. It is said to be a fine camping place, and although our present camp is the prettiest I have ever seen, we are glad for the sake of change to leave it.

Flat Top Mountain, July 11, 1862. Thursday [Friday].— Wrote to Platt about promotion to colonelcy in one of the new regiments. I would dislike to leave the Twenty-third under any circumstances and would not be willing to do it to be taken from active service. But I certainly wish the command of a regiment before the war closes.

Today, to my surprise, Rev. A. Wilson made his appearance. He could not get his pay on the pay sheets furnished because there was no certificate of his resignation having been accepted. He was directed to return to the regiment by General Fremont’s adjutant-general. So he came. One of the men, seeing him, said to me with a knowing look: “Have you any chickens in your coop, Colonel?” A pretty reputation for a chaplain truly! — A fine rain last night and this forenoon.

July 10, 1862. Thursday.—. . . I wrote this morning a cheerful letter to Mother. I think often these days of the sad loss six years ago; my dear, dear sister, — so —. But it is perhaps for the best. How she would suffer during this struggle!

I have just read the Commercial’s story of the six days’ battles. What dreadful fighting, suffering, weariness, and exhaustion were there! The letters in the paper of the 5th are agonizing in the extreme. The telegraphic news diminishes our loss in the battles before Richmond, and gives, I think, exaggerated reports of the enemy’s loss. They are said to have lost from thirty to sixty thousand!!

Camp Jones, July 8, 1862. Tuesday. — A fine breezy day on this mountain top. Bathed three miles from here in Glade Creek. I find this sitting still or advancing age (good joke!) is getting me into old gentlemen’s habits. My breath is shorter than it used to be; I get tired easier and the like.

Very little additional from Richmond, but that little is encouraging. Our forces have not, I think, been discouraged or in any degree lost confidence, by reason of anything that has occurred before Richmond. Our losses are not greater than the enemy’s — probably not so great. The Rebel reports here are that our loss is thirty-eight thousand killed and wounded and two thousand prisoners; that they left fourteen thousand dead on the field! This is all wild guessing; but it indicates dreadful and probably nearly equal losses on both sides.

Camp Jones, Flat Top, July 7, 1862. Monday. — The warmest day of the season. The men are building great bowers over their company streets, giving them roomy and airy shelters. At evening they dance under them, and in the daytime they drill in the bayonet exercise and manual of arms. All wish to remain in this camp until some movement is begun which will show us the enemy, or the way out of this country. We shall try to get water by digging wells.

The news of today looks favorable. McClellan seems to have suffered no defeat. He has changed front; been forced (perhaps) to the rear, sustained heavy losses; but his army is in good condition, and has probably inflicted as much injury on the enemy as it has suffered. This is so much better than I anticipated that I feel relieved and satisfied. The taking of Richmond is postponed, but I think it will happen in time to forestall foreign intervention.

There is little or no large game here. We see a great many striped squirrels (chipmunks), doves, quails, a few pigeons and pheasants, and a great many rattlesnakes. I sent Birch the rattles of a seventeen-year-old yesterday. They count three years for the button and a year for each rattle.

There is a pretentious headboard in the graveyard between here and headquarters with the inscription “Anna Eliza Brammer, borned –––“

Camp Jones, Flat Top Mountain, July 6, 1862. Sunday. — . . . It seems on reflection that McClellan has been forced back in seven days — six of them days of fighting — about fifteen to twenty-five miles; that he has probably not lost very heavily in artillery or stores; that the weight of the attacks on him have [has] been too heavy and have [has] forced him back. Well, then, our columns must be rapidly made heavier. We shall see!

. . . Nothing new from Richmond today. What is the condition there? Is our army merely pushed back by superior numbers or has it been defeated?

July 5, 1862. Saturday. — A fine, warm day. I rode with Avery and an escort of twelve dragoons under Captain Harrison (a Union doctor of Monroe County), to look for a new camping ground, ten or twelve miles from here, at or near Jumping Branch, on the pike leading from Raleigh to Packs Ferry. The village last winter was the rendezvous of the enemy who were threatening Raleigh and was burnt, except two or three houses, by Major Comly to get rid of the nest. We dined with an intelligent Union farmer, a Mr. Upton, whose house was spared. A good spring for the men’s use and a tolerable stream for the animals and washing. But no camping ground which we would take in exchange for Flat Top as long as water can be got here.

While at Mr. Upton’s, we heard from an artilleryman that after we left camp news was received at headquarters that McClellan had entered Richmond yesterday! Prior advices led us strongly to hope, almost to believe, it was true. We all said we believed it. How suddenly McClellan loomed up into a great general — a future (not distant future) President! We thought of a speedy end of the war and a return home; of the loved ones’ happiness at home! I could toast McClellan, “slow but sure,” “better late than never,” and the like.

On reaching camp our hopes were cruelly dashed. The only dispatches received, meagre, ambiguous, and obscure, indicate disaster rather than victory! That after six days’ hard fighting McClellan has lost fifteen to twenty thousand [men] and is twenty or thirty miles further distant from Richmond than when the battle began! No disaster is told other than this; but if it is true that he has been beaten back to a point thirty-five or forty miles from Richmond, we are where I feared we were on the third. But these dispatches are so deceptive as to complicated and extensive movements that I must hear further before I give up to such gloomy anticipations. But I am anxious!

Flat Top, July 4, 1862. Friday. — A fine day. No demonstrations in camp except a National salute and a little drunkenness. Quietness of the Sabbath reigned.

The Commercial of the first puts a different face on the news of McClellan’s recent movements near Richmond. The change of position seems to have been well planned — a wise change — and it is not certain that any disaster befell us during its execution. There was fierce fighting and heavy loss, but it is quite possible that the enemy suffered more than we did.

My orderly, Gray, good old veteran Irish soldier, “drunk and disorderly” yesterday. All right; he shall be released today.