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

Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes

January 15. Wednesday. — A swashing rain is falling on top of the snow. What floods and what roads we shall have! No more movements in this quarter. Yesterday a party from Camp Hayes went out after forage to the home of a man named Shumate who had escaped from the guardhouse in Raleigh a few days ago. They stopped at his house. As one of the men were [was] leaving, he said he would take a chunk along to build a fire. Mrs. Shumate said, “You’ll find it warm enough before you get away.” The party were fired on by about thirty bushwhackers; two horses badly wounded. Four men had narrow escapes, several balls through clothing.

Two more contrabands yesterday. These runaways are bright fellows. As a body they are superior to the average of the uneducated white population of this State. More intelligent, I feel confident. What a good-for-nothing people the mass of these western Virginians are! Unenterprising, lazy, narrow, listless, and ignorant. Careless of consequences to the country if their own lives and property are safe. Slavery leaves one class, the wealthy, with leisure for cultivation. They are usually intelligent, well-bred, brave, and high-spirited. The rest are serfs.

Rained all day; snow gone. I discharged three suspicious persons heretofore arrested; all took the oath. Two I thought too old to do mischief, Thurman and Max; one I thought possibly honest and gave him the benefit of the possibility. He was from Logan County. Knew Laban T. Moore and my old friend John Bromley. John, he says, is “suspect” of Secesh.

Tuesday, January 14, 1862. — My old veteran orderly, Gray, says it makes his flesh creep to see the way soldiers enter officers’ quarters, hats on, just as if they were in civil life! [The] Twenty-sixth Regiment left today. Three or four inches snow. Some winter!

Spent the afternoon looking over a trunk full of letters, deeds, documents, etc., belonging to General Alfred Beckley. They were buried in the graveyard near General Beckley’s at Raleigh. Some letters of moment showing the early and earnest part taken by Colonel Tompkins in the Rebellion. The general Union and conservative feeling of General Beckley shown in letters carefully preserved in his letter-book. Two letters to Major Anderson, full of patriotism, love of Union and of the Stars and Stripes — replies written, one the day after Major Anderson went into Sumter, the other much later. His, General Beckley’s, desire was really for the Union. He was of West Point education. Out of deference to popular sentiment he qualified his Unionism by saying, “Virginia would stay in the Union as long as she could consistently with honor.”

General Beckley’s note from “J. C. Calhoun, Secretary of War,” informing him of his appointment as a cadet at West Point, and many other mementos, carefully preserved, were in the trunk. Title papers and evidence relating to a vast tract of land, formerly owned by Gideon Granger and now by Francis Granger and brother, were also in it. All except a few letters as to the Rebellion were undisturbed.

Monday, January 13, 1862.— As commander of the post have charge of the pass business. Have deputized ––– to do the clerkly part, and private Gray, Company I, to do the orderly and department part, an erect, neat, fine old soldier; like him much. . . :,;

The Twenty-sixth preparing to leave. Will take William Smith, a crack shot and well known bushwhacker, to Charleston or Columbus. James Phillips the owner of this cottage was in the habit of going to Miller’s Ferry to shoot at our men. Mr. Mauser opposed it, said the town would be burned. To no purpose. Phillips kept at the business.

Sunday, January 12, 1862.

Dear Joe : —. . . Generally healthy; less sickness than ever, but more fatal. Come as soon as you safely can. Jim or I will return as soon as you get here. Can’t come now.

Don’t think our position an insignificant one. We make more captures and do more than any regiment I have yet heard of in Kentucky. Worrying on such subjects is simply green. It makes me laugh.

I was much interested in your account of the boys; very glad to have such favorable stories of them all. Love to ’em.

Sincerely,

R. B. Hayes.

Dr. J. T. Webb.

Fayetteville, Virginia, Sunday A. M., January 12, 1862.

Dearest Lucy : — I was made very happy by your letter of the 6th per Sergeant McKinley, and again this morning by a capital account of the boys — rose-colored by his affectionate partiality, but very enjoyable— from Dr. Joe. Such letters from home are next to meeting you all again. You speak of the fourth boy as “Joseph.” Well, “Joe” it shall be if you wish it. Indeed, I thought of suggesting that name but I didn’t know what you might have thought of, and one dislikes sometimes to disregard suggestions even on such subjects, and I thought to be, like Lincoln on the Mason and Slidell question, prudently silent. I hope you are not getting about the house so early as to put in hazard your health. Do be very careful.

We are letting a good many of our soldiers go home now that the snow, rain, and thaw have spoiled the roads. Joe seems worried that we are not holding somebody’s horses in the “grand army” (a foolish phrase) in Kentucky. We are, or rather, have been, having our share of enterprises towards the jugular vein of Rebeldom— the Southwestern Virginia Railroad, and have captured arms, etc., in quantity.

I was out beyond Raleigh (“Camp Hayes”) last week and returned the day before yesterday. Such consternation as spread among the Rebels on the advance of our troops was curious to behold. The advance party went fifty miles from here. People prepared to go as far up as Dublin Depot. Regiments were sent for to Richmond. Rumor said two bodies of Yankees, one thousand strong, were approaching, one on each bank of New River. The militia of five counties were called out, and a high time generally got up. There are many Union men south of here who kept us well posted of Rebel movements. Major Comly is left at Raleigh, and I feel somewhat apprehensive about him. Since the Twenty-sixth has been recalled, I am put in command of the post here.

I just stopped writing to give a pass to Ohio for a man belonging to the sutler department of the Thirtieth who turned out to be a Kinsell of Delaware. He promised to see mother.

I wrote a short note to you or Joe this morning, saying he had better come home (camp is always spoken of as home) if he can safely leave you. Colonel Scammon is really quite unwell, and while he likes Dr. Hayes as a gentleman, would prefer Dr. Joe as a physician. Dr. Jim or I can perhaps go to Cincinnati on his return. My going is rendered doubtful for the present by the departure of Colonel Eckley of the Twenty-sixth and the sickness of Colonel Scammon. Colonel Ewing of the Thirtieth will not return until the first week in February. I may possibly be obliged to await his return.

13th. — The newspapers from the Commercial office still get here three or four days in advance of other news, except dispatches. I shall send home a sabre captured by Company G on the late trip up New River towards the railroad. It is one of about a dozen taken, which belonged to a company of Richmond cavalry commanded by Captain Caskie. I send you the letter I got from Major Comly with the sabre.

You will send Joe off as soon as it is safe for him to go. I am always amused with his talk on one subject. He is resolved to consider our regiment as a much abused and neglected one. We were in about the only successful campaign made the past summer. We have the best winter quarters in the United States. He thinks we can’t be favorites of General Rosecrans because he don’t send us away to Kentucky or somewhere else! And so on. But old bachelors must grumble at something, and as he seems now to be enjoying everything else, it is perhaps right that he should be unhappy about the regiment. . . .

I feel a little embarrassed about Joe. He says, “Telegraph if you want me,” etc., etc. Now, the truth is, he ought not to be absent without or beyond his leave. I have constantly said that if it was not safe to leave you he ought to stay, and I would see it [made] all right. This I repeat. But what annoys me is, Joe seems to feel as if something was wrong about the regiment; as if he would like to leave it, etc., etc. Now, if he isn’t satisfied with it, I will do all I can to get him a place in another regiment. Don’t let him stay in this on my account. I am liable to leave it at any time, and I really don’t want anybody in high position in the regiment who is dissatisfied, and particularly if he is a friend or relative of mine. I feel a duty in this matter. The happiness of several hundred men is affected more or less if one of the prominent officers allows himself to be habitually out of sorts about things. You may show this to Joe. Don’t let there be any misunderstanding. I prefer greatly that Dr. Joe should be our surgeon, but if he feels that he can’t return to western Virginia, or go anywhere else that the chances of war may take us, without feeling injured and soured, then my preference is that he do not come. I will do all I can to get him another place, as I said before, but I don’t want to see him with us if he feels “snubbed” because we are not sent to Kentucky.

I ought not to trouble you with this, but it is written and you will not think me unkind, will you? Love to all the dear boys, little Joe and all. Very glad Mother Webb is so well. Affectionately, as ever your

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

Sunday, January 12, 1862. — Very warm, threatening rain all day. Three of our men died yesterday and today — two of them just recruited. Good letter from Dr. Joe. Bothered about our not going to Kentucky and such nonsense, but full of interesting particulars about the boys and family.

Fayetteville, Camp Union, January 11. Saturday. — Pleasant weather — warm and very muddy. A soldier of Company C died last night. Few cases of sickness but very fatal; calls for great care. Must see to clean livers at once. Made the commander of the post vice Colonel Eckley who is to leave with the Twenty-sixth (he to command the Eightieth) in a day or two. Sergeant McKinley brings me a letter from Lucy, the first since her confinement. She says she is well again; calls, as she speaks of him, the little fourth “Joe.” Well, Joe it shall be — a good name, after the best of brothers and uncles.

Reports of preparations southward to meet and cut off our expedition to the railroad and the impassable roads have fast bound our intended enterprise.

Thursday, January 9, 1862. Raleigh, Virginia, (Beckley’s Court-house). Cloudy; rained during last night, thawing, foggy, etc., etc. Rode with Avery to the mill of young Mr. Beckley on Piney River. Found it a most romantic spot. Beckley’s family, a pretty wife and daughter, there in a cabin by the roaring torrent in a glen separated from all the world. I shall long remember that quiet little home. — One man of company died at Fayetteville.

Wednesday, January 8. — “New Orleans,” “The Union — it must and shall be preserved,” “Old Hickory forever.” These are the watchwords of today. This is our coldest day — clear, bright, and beautiful. Not over three inches of snow.

Rode with Adjutant Avery and two dragoons to Raleigh, twenty-four miles. A cold but not disagreeable day. The village of Raleigh is about ten to twelve years old; three or four hundred inhabitants may have lived there before the war; now six or eight families. Two churches, two taverns, two stores, etc., etc., in peaceful times. Our troops housed comfortably but too scattered, and too little attention to cleanliness. (Mem.: — Cooking ought never to be allowed in quarters.) I fear proper arrangements for repelling an attack have not been made.

Tuesday, January 7, 1862.

Dearest L—: — The enclosed letter to Dr. Joe did not get off yesterday and thinking it likely he may be off, I enclose it with this to you.

Since writing yesterday a deep snow has fallen postponing indefinitely all extensive movements southward. We shall have a thaw after the snow, then floods, bad roads for nobody knows how long, and so forth, which will keep us in our comfortable quarters here for the present at least. Write me one more letter if you can before I come home. I shall not leave for home in less than three weeks. I trust my absence will not continue much longer than that time. Take care of yourself and you will be able to be up with me and about long before I leave. I must visit Columbus, Delaware, and Fremont (unless Uncle happens to be at Cincinnati) while at home, besides doing a great many chores of all sorts. I don’t expect you to be able to go with me, but I hope you will be well enough to be with me a good deal while we are in Cincinnati.

I just ran out in the snow to detail four men to run down a suspicious character who is reported as hanging around the hospital and lower part of the village. A queer business this is.

I sent Laura some letters written by lovers, wives, and sisters to Rebels in Floyd’s army. The captured mails on either side afford curious reading. They are much like other folks — those Rebel sweethearts, wives, and sisters.

I trust we shall crush out the Rebellion rapidly. The masses South have been greatly imposed on by people who were well informed. I often wish I could see the people of this village when they return to their homes. On the left of me is a pleasant cottage. The soldiers, to increase their quarters, have built on three sides of it the awkardest possible shanty extensions — one side having a prodigious stone and mud chimney, big enough for great logs ten feet in length. On three of the prominent hills of the village considerable earthworks have been built. There are no fences in sight except around the three buildings occupied by leading officers. Such is war. One young lady writing to her lover speaks of a Federal officer she had met, and laments that so nice a gentleman should be in the Union army.

. . . . You must be ever so careful for a good while yet. Good night, dearest. Much love to all and, as about forty affectionate Rebels say, a large portion for yourself.

Affectionately,

R.

Mrs. Hayes.