Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes

Monday, A. M., Raleigh, March 24, 1862. — It is snowing still. What a climate! This storm began Wednesday last. . . .

Captain Drake returned. He was very lucky — caught fifteen bushwhackers, captured twelve horses, eighteen rifles and muskets, fifteen hundred pounds bacon, ten sacks flour, six canoes; destroyed the Rebel headquarters and returned safely. Abram Bragg and Wm. C. Richmond with fifteen or twenty Union men joined them and acted as guides, etc., etc.

Raleigh, Virginia, March 22, 1862.

Dear Mother:—. . . We are in the midst of one of the storms so common in this mountain region. We hope it is the equinoctial and will be followed by good weather. It is a driving snow-storm. The pine trees are crusted with it giving a peculiarly wintry appearance to the hills. Fortunately we are all comfortably housed, except two companies who are on a scout in the mountains after bushwhackers. I hope they will find some sort of shelter these stormy nights.

We all feel more hopeful than ever about an early close of the war. It looks to us as if General McClellan must succeed in forcing a battle that will decide the fate of the Rebellion. I do not expect we shall be released from duty for months, perhaps years, but it seems almost certain that a victory in eastern Virginia will decide the war.

I hope you will be able to see the little folks all gathered at Fremont as you anticipate. The boys look forward to it impatiently. Webb was six years old the day before yesterday. He is now to go at his books. His mind runs on horses more than on books. Birch is a very sincere believer in the efficacy of prayer in our common affairs and is finishing the war in that way, famously, as he thinks.

Love to all. — As Fremont is commander of this division, we expect prompt and rapid movements. I shall write to you rarely when we once set out. All important events occurring to me or this army you will know by telegraph. The wires still follow us wherever we go.

Affectionately, your son,

Rutherford.

Mrs. Sophia Hayes.

Camp Hayes, Raleigh, Virginia, March 22, 1862.

Dear Webby : — You are six years old — a big boy. I want you to be a very good boy; tell the truth, and don’t be afraid. Learn to read and write, and you shall have horses to ride and a gun when you get a little bigger. You must learn to spell well, too. A man is ashamed if he can’t spell.

Tell Birch that the tall fifer that took Spencer is now playing the bugle, and plays well. His name is Firman. Good-bye.

Your father,

R. B. Hayes.

Master Webb Hayes.

Raleigh, Virginia, March 22, 1862.

Dearest : — Your letters, 13th and 15th, reached me yesterday. Also the gloves and [percussion] caps. They suit perfectly.

You don’t know how I enjoy reading your accounts of the boys. Webb is six years old. Dear little fellow, how he will hate books. Don’t be too hard with him. Birch’s praying is really beautiful.

We are in the midst of one of the storms so frequent in these mountains. We call it the equinoctial and hope when it is over we shall have settled weather. It is snowing in great flakes which stick to the foliage of the pine and other evergreen trees on the hills, giving the scene in front of the window near me a strangely wintry appearance.

To kill time, I have been reading “Lucile” again, and you may know I think of you constantly and oh, so lovingly as I read. When I read it first we were on the steamer in the St. Lawrence River below Quebec. What a happy trip that was! It increased my affection for you almost as much as my late visit home. Well, well, you know all this. You know “I love you so much.”

We are all feeling very hopeful. We expect to move soon and rapidly, merely because Fremont is commander. I do not see but this war must be soon decided. McClellan seems determined, and I think he is able to force the retreating Manassas army to a battle or to an equally disastrous retreat. A victory there ends the contest. I think we shall be months, perhaps even years, getting all the small parties reduced, but the Rebellion as a great peril menacing the Union will be ended.

General Beckley, whose sword-belt Webby wears, came in and surrendered to me a few days ago. Mrs. Beckley brought me his note. She is a lady of good qualities. Of course, there were tears, etc., etc., which I was glad to relieve. The old general is an educated military gentleman of the old Virginia ways — weak, well-intentioned, and gentlemanly; reminds one of the characters about Chillicothe, from Virginia — probably of less strength of character than most of them. A citizen here described him to Dr. McCurdy as “light of talent but well educated.”

Gray, “the blind soldier” you saw at Camp Chase, is, I notice, on duty and apparently perfectly well. Gray, the orderly, you saw drunk is in good condition again, professing contrition, etc. McKinley is bright and clean, looking his best. Inquires if you see his wife.

So, you go to Fremont. You will once in a while see our men there, too. Some five or six Twenty-third men belong in that region.

You ought to see what a snow-storm is blowing. Whew! I had a tent put up a few days ago for an office. Before I got it occupied the storm came on and now it is split in twain.

Our regiment was never so fine-looking as now. It is fun to see them. No deaths, I believe, for two months and no sickness worth mentioning. Chiefly engaged hunting bushwhackers. Our living is hard, the grub I mean, and likely not to improve. Salt pork and crackers. The armies have swept off all fresh meats and vegetables. A few eggs once in a great while. Love to Grandma and all the boys.

Affectionately, as ever,

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

Saturday, 22.— Still snowing. I write home and to Mother this morning.

Captain R. B. Foley, of Mercer County signs himself Captain of Confederate Company; Captain Michael Hale, Raleigh, ditto; Joel F. Wood, James N. Wood, Wm. A. Walker, Geo. A. Walker, [and] Charles Walker (Rev.), all of Raleigh.

The foregoing people agree to remain peaceably at home if we will not molest them. I wrote as follows: “No citizen who remains peaceably at home and who neither directly nor indirectly gives aid or comfort to the enemies of the United States will be molested in person or property by the troops under my command.”

Friday, 21. — Storm not over yet; snows P. M. . . . News of retreat of enemy after leaving Manassas. If McClellan pursues vigorously he will thrash or destroy them. A victory that crushes the Rebellion as a power. It may be a great annoyance afterwards but nothing more. Vigor, energy now for a few weeks and the thing is done. He (McClellan) ought not to have allowed them to steal away from him, but if he now crushes them he redeems it all and becomes the Nation’s idol. I hope he will do it. I do not quite like his views of slavery if I understand them; but his cautious policy if now followed by energy will be vindicated by the event.

Thursday, 20.— Cold; no rain falling this morning, but the storm not over. Fremont at the head of our department, the Mountain District, western Virginia and east Tennessee. Good! 1 admire the general. If he comes up to my anticipations, we shall have an active campaign.

Colonel Scammon returned, also Major Comly, to Fayetteville. They send no news and bring no newspapers. Thoughtless fellows! No, I must not call the colonel fellow. He put down a countryman who came in with, “Are you the feller what rents land?” Colonel Scammon: “In the first place I am not a feller; in the second place, take off your hat! and in the third place, I don’t rent land. There is the door”!

Camp Hayes, Raleigh, Virginia, March 19, 1862. — Before breakfast. A lovely day. Captain Haven returned last night after an extensive scout; burned seven empty houses — occupants gone bushwhacking. Burned none with women in them.

About noon a gentleman rode up and inquired for the colonel commanding. He turned out to be Clifton W. Tayleure, a local editor, formerly of Baltimore American, lately of Richmond Enquirer. Left Richmond a week ago to avoid the draft. All between eighteen and forty-five to be drafted to fill up the old regiments; all between sixteen and eighteen and forty-five and fifty-five to be enrolled as home guards to protect the homes and guard the slaves. He is a South Carolinian by birth; lived there until he was fifteen; came North; has been a “local” in various cities since; has a family in Baltimore; went to Richmond to look after property in August last; couldn’t get away before; got off by passes procured by good luck, etc., etc.; is a Union man by preference, principle, etc., etc. This is his story. He is about thirty-three years of age, of prepossessing appearance, intelligent and agreeable. Gives us interesting accounts of things in the Capital of Secession. Says the trades-people are anxious for peace — ready for the restoration of the old Union. He seems to be truthful. I shall give him a pass to General Cox there to be dealt with as the general sees fit. — Will he visit them (Colonel Jones and General Cox) and report himself, or will he hurry by?

Tuesday, March 18. — A. M., very cold but looks as if the storm was at an end and bright weather come again. P. M., a lovely day. Rode with Avery on the Logan Road three miles to Evans’ and Cook’s. Drilled the regiment. Adjutant Avery drilled skirmish drill. P. M., drilled sergeants in bayonet exercise, and regiment in marching and squares. Spent the evening jollying with the doctors and reading Scott.

A queer prisoner brought in from New River by Richmond. Richmond, a resolute Union citizen was taken a prisoner at his house by three Rebels — two dragoons and a bushwhacker. One of the dragoons took Richmond up behind him and off they went. On the way they told Richmond that he would have to ––– ––– –––. Thereupon Richmond on the first opportunity drew his pocket-knife slyly from his pocket, caught the dragoon before him by his hair behind and cut his throat and stabbed him. Both fell from the horse together. Richmond cut the strap holding the dragoon’s rifle; took it and killed a second. The third escaped, and Richmond ran to our camp.

Jesse Reese brought in as a spy by Richmond, says he is a tailor; was going to Greenbrier to collect money due him. Says he married when he was about fifty; they got married because they were both orphans and alone in the world!

[Dr. J. T. Webb, in a letter, of March 12, to his sister (Mrs. Hayes), tells the story of Richmond’s feat in the following graphic recital:

“About thirty miles from here, on New River, lives an old man (Richmond) and several sons. His boys are all grown and living to themselves, some four and five miles from the old man. They have lived out there many years and for this country are all rich. Besides being wealthy they are all very powerful (physically) and are the leaders, as it were, of society. They have the best horses, cattle, etc. of any one out here. They are noted for their fine horses. They are all strong Union men, and have been very much angered by the Rebels taking their cattle, sheep, etc. — stealing them. A few days since some Rebel cavalry concluded they would arrest the squire and take his horses. Accordingly day before yesterday, just at daybreak, three Rebel cavalry called at the squire’s and took him prisoner. They also took three of his fine horses. They put the squire on a horse behind one of the cavalrymen, and started off with him. After they had gone some ten miles, they came to a noted Rebel’s house, and all cheered at the capture of the squire. This was too much for him, and he determined to make his escape. They had gone but a short distance when the Rebel behind whom he was riding fell back behind the other two some distance. Now was the time for the squire. So drawing a long knife from his pocket, he caught the Rebel by his hair, drew him back, and cut his throat. Both fell off the horse together. As they fell he plunged the knife into the Rebel’s bowels. Then he took the Rebel’s gun, and got behind a tree when one of the others returned, and the squire shot him dead. The third took to his heels and left the squire victor of the field. There is no mistake about this; he came to camp with their two guns. His knife and coat-sleeve is covered with blood. Richmond is a trump and two hundred such men would clean out this country of Rebels.”]