Camp Tompkins, Virginia, October 29, 1861.
Tuesday morning after breakfast.
My Dear Boy : — If I am not interrupted I mean to write you a long birthday letter. You will be eight years old on the 4th of November — next Monday, and perhaps this letter will get to Cincinnati in time for your mother or grandmother to read it to you on that day.
If I were with you on your birthday I would tell you a great many stories about the war. Some of them would make you almost cry and some would make you laugh. I often think how Ruddy and Webby and you will gather around me to listen to my stories, and how often I shall have to tell them, and how they will grow bigger and bigger, as I get older and as the boys grow up, until if I should live to be an old man they will become really romantic and interesting. But it is always hard work for me to write, and I can’t tell on paper such good stories as I could give you, if we were sitting down together by the fire.
I will tell you why we call our camp Camp Tompkins. It is named after a very wealthy gentleman named Colonel Tompkins, who owns the farm on which our tents are pitched. He was educated to be a soldier of the United States at West Point, where boys and young men are trained to be officers at the expense of the Government. He was a good student and when he grew up he was a good man. He married a young lady, who lived in Richmond and who owned a great many slaves and a great deal of land in Virginia. He stayed in the army as an officer a number of years, but getting tired of army life, he resigned his office several years ago, and came here and built an elegant house and cleared and improved several hundred acres of land. The site of his house is a lovely one. It is about a hundred yards from my tent on an elevation that commands a view of Gauley Bridge, two and a half miles distant — the place where New River and Gauley River unite to form the Kanawha River. Your mother can show you the spot on the map. There are high hills or mountains on both sides of both rivers, and before they unite they are very rapid and run roaring and dashing along in a very romantic way. When the camp is still at night, as I lie in bed, I can hear the noise like another Niagara Falls.
In this pleasant place Colonel Tompkins lived a happy life. He had a daughter and three sons. He had a teacher for his daughter and another for his boys. His house was furnished in good taste; he had books, pictures, boats, horses, guns, and dogs. His daughter was about sixteen, his oldest boy was fourteen, the next twelve, and the youngest about nine. They lived here in a most agreeable way until the Rebels in South Carolina attacked Major Anderson in Fort Sumter. Colonel Tompkins wished to stand by the Union, but his wife and many relatives in eastern Virginia were Secessionists. He owned a great deal of property which he feared the Rebels would take away from him if he did not become a Secessionist. While he was doubting what to do and hoping that he could live along without taking either side, Governor Wise with an army came here on his way to attack steamboats and towns on the Ohio River. Governor Wise urged Colonel Tompkins to join the Rebels; told him as he was an educated military man he would give him the command of a regiment in the Rebel army. Colonel Tompkins finally yielded and became a colonel in Wise’s army. He made Wise agree that his regiment should be raised among his neighbors and that they should not be called on to leave their homes for any distant service, but remain as a sort of home guards. This was all very well for a while. Colonel Tompkins stayed at home and would drill his men once or twice a week. But when Governor Wise got down to the Ohio River and began to drive away Union men, and to threaten to attack Ohio, General Cox was sent with Ohio soldiers after Governor Wise.
Governor Wise was not a good general or did not have good soldiers, or perhaps they knew they were fighting in a bad cause. At any rate, the Rebel army was driven by General Cox from one place to another until they got back to Gauley Bridge near where Colonel Tompkins lived. He had to call out his regiment of home guards and join Wise. General Cox soon drove them away from Gauley Bridge and followed them up this road until he reached Colonel Tompkins’ farm. The colonel then was forced to leave his home, and has never dared to come back to it since. Our soldiers have held the country all around his house.
His wife and children remained at home until since I came here. They were protected by our army and no injury done to them. But Mrs. Tompkins got very tired of living with soldiers all around, and her husband off in the Rebel army. Finally a week or two ago General Rosecrans told her she might go to eastern Virginia, and sent her in her carriage with an escort of ten dragoons and a flag of truce over to the Rebel army about thirty miles from here, and I suppose she is now with her husband.
I suppose you would like to know about a flag of truce. It is a white flag carried to let the enemy’s army know that you are coming, not to fight, but to hold a peaceful meeting with them. One man rides ahead of the rest about fifty yards, carrying a white flag—any white handkerchief will do. When the pickets, sentinels, or scouts of the other army see it, they know what it means. They call out to the man who carries the flag of truce and he tells them what his party is coming for. The picket tells him to halt, while he sends back to his camp to know what to do. An officer and a party of men are sent to meet the party with the flag of truce, and they talk with each other and transact their business as if they were friends, and when they are done they return to their own armies. No good soldier ever shoots a man with a flag of truce. They are always very polite to each other when parties meet with such a flag.
Well, Mrs. Tompkins and our men travelled till they came to the enemy. The Rebels were very polite to our men. Our men stayed all night at a picket station in the woods along with a party of Rebels who came out to meet them. They talked to each other about the war, and were very friendly. Our men cooked their suppers as usual. One funny fellow said to a Rebel soldier, “Do you get any such good coffee as this over there?” The Rebel said, “Well, to tell the truth, the officers are the only ones who see much coffee, and it’s mighty scarce with them.” Our man held up a big army cracker. “Do you have any like this?” and the Rebel said, “Well no, we do live pretty hard,” — and so they joked with each other a great deal.
Colonel Tompkins’ boys and the servants and tutor are still in the house. The boys come over every day to bring the general milk and pies and so on. I expect we shall send them off one of these days and take the house for a hospital or something of the kind.
And so you see Colonel Tompkins didn’t gain anything by joining the Rebels. If he had done what he thought was right, everybody would have respected him. Now the Rebels suspect him, and accuse him of treachery if anything occurs in his regiment which they don’t like. Perhaps he would have lost property, perhaps he would have lost his life if he had stood by the Union, but he would have done right and all good people would have honored him.
And now, my son, as you are getting to be a large boy, I want you to resolve always to do what you know is right. No matter what you will lose by it, no matter what danger there is, always do right.
I hope you will go to school and study hard, and take exercise too, so as to grow and be strong, and if there is a war you can be a soldier and fight for your country as Washington did. Be kind to your brothers and to Grandmother, and above all to your mother. You don’t know how your mother loves you, and you must show that you love her by always being a kind, truthful, brave boy; and I shall always be so proud of you.
Give my love to all the boys, and to Mother and Grandmother. Affectionately, your father,
R. B. Hayes.
Birchard A. Hayes,
