Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes

Camp Tompkins, October 27, 1861.

Dearest : — I have had a week’s work trying twenty cases before a court-martial held in one of the fine parlors of Colonel Tompkins’ country-seat. I have profaned the sacred mansion, and I trust that soon it will be converted into a hospital for our sick. My pertinacity has accomplished something towards that end. My week’s work has had painful things, but many pleasant ones. I trust no life will be lost, but I fear it. Still I have done my duty kindly and humanely.

The weather generally has been good. The paymasters are here and general joy prevails. I expect to remain at this camp about a week or ten days. Whether I shall return to my regiment or go around to Grafton is not yet certain, probably the latter.

I see that the Sixth Street ladies are at work for the Tenth. All right. Clothing, but blankets and bedding comforts, etc., still more, will be needed this winter. Army blankets are small and are getting thin and worn-out. As cold weather comes on the well, even, will need all they can get. As yet, in this region, nobody but sick men have any business to complain.

Dr. Joe has an order from General Rosecrans to Jim to come out and assist him. If he comes let him bring a good blanket or comfort for me. If I am away it can be kept for me till I return or used by somebody else. During the next ten days I shall get money plenty to send you for all debts, etc., etc.

I can quite certainly make you a visit, but I hardly know when to do it. Dr. Joe will want to visit home sometime this fall or winter and you better “maturely consider,” as the court-martial record says, when you would prefer him to come. Of course he must wait for Dr. Clendenin and I for Colonel Matthews. My preference is about December.

Mother and Jim both seem to think letters never reach us. We get all your letters now, and quite regularly. There was a period after Carnifax when we were out of reach, but now we are in line again. We see Cincinnati papers of the 24th on the 26th. By the by, you need not renew my subscription to the Commercial. No use to send papers. We get them from the office sooner in another way.

If Jim comes let him get an assortment of late papers, Harper’s, Atlantic, etc., etc., and keep them till he gets to our camp. We are the outermost camp and people are coaxed out of their literature before they get to us. . . .

I dined in a tent with fourteen officers and one lady on Wednesday. Her husband was formerly a steamboat captain, now a major in [the] First Kentucky. She evidently enjoyed her singular position; bore her part well. . . .

Affectionately, your

Rutherford.

Things I would like before winter sets in — I am not sure that Dr. Jim better bring them — there is no hurry:

1. A good large blanket; 2. An India-rubber coat, common black, — Dr. J—’s size; 3. A pair of gloves, riding, buckskin or such; 4. A thick dark blue vest, military buttons and fit; my size at Sprague’s; 5. Enough blue cord for seams of one pair of pants; Dr. Joe’s poem, “Lucile”; 6. Two blank books, size of my diaries — good nice ruled paper, 6 or 8 inches by 4 or 5; 7. A pocket memorandum book. I could make a big list, but I’ll quit.

Mrs. Hayes.

Sunday morning before breakfast,

Tompkins’ Farm, Three Miles from Gauley Bridge,

October 27, 1861.

Dear Uncle: — It is a bright October morning. Ever since the great storms a month ago, we have had weather almost exactly such as we have at the same season in Ohio — occasional rainy days, but much very fine weather. We are still waiting events. Our winter’s work or destination yet unknown. Decided events near Washington will determine our course. We shall wait those events several weeks yet before going into winter quarters. If things remain there without any events, we shall about half, I conjecture, build huts here and hereabouts, and the rest go to Ohio, and stay there, or go to Kentucky or Missouri as required. I hope and expect to be of the half that leaves here. But great events near Washington are expected by the powers that be, and it looks, as you see, some like it.

I have been occupied the whole week trying cases before a court-martial. Some painful things, but on the whole, an agreeable time. While the regiment is in camp doing nothing, this business is not bad for a change.

The paymasters are here at last, making the men very happy with their pretty government notes and gold. The larger part is taken (seven-eighths) in paper on account of the bother in carrying six months’ pay in gold. Each regiment will send home a very large proportion of their pay — one-half to three-fifths.

The death of Colonel Baker is a national calamity, but on the whole, the war wears a favorable look. Lucy says you are getting ready to shelter us when driven from Cincinnati. All right, but if we are forced to leave Cincinnati, I think we can’t stop short of the Canada line. There is no danger. These Rebels will go under sooner or later. I know that great battles are matters of accident largely. A defeat near Washington is possible, and would be disastrous enough, but the Southern soldiers are not the mettle to carry on a long and doubtful war. If they can get a success by a dash or an ambuscade, they do it well enough, but for steady work, such as finally determines all great wars, our men are far superior to them. With equal generalship and advantages, there is a perfect certainty as to the result of a campaign. Our men here attack parties, not guerrillas merely, but uniformed soldiers from North Carolina, Georgia, South Carolina, etc., of two or three times their number with entire confidence that the enemy will run, and they do. They cut us up in ambuscades sometimes, and with stratagems of all sorts. This sort of things delays, but it will not prevent, success if our people at home will pay the taxes and not tire of it. Breakfast is ready.

Sincerely,

R. B. Hayes.

P. S. — You hear a great deal of the suffering of soldiers. It is much exaggerated. A great many lies are told. The sick do suffer. A camp and camp hospitals are necessarily awful places for sickness, but well men, for the most part, fare well — very well. Since I have kept house alone as judge-advocate, my orderly and clerk furnish soldiers’ rations and nothing else. It is good living. In the camp of the regiment we fare worse than the rest, because the soldiers are enterprising and get things our lazy darkies don’t.

Warm bedding and clothing will be greatly needed in the winter, and by troops guarding mountain passes. The supply should be greater than the Government furnishes. Sewing Societies, etc., etc., may do much good. The Government is doing its duty well. The allowance is ample for average service; but winter weather in mountains requires more than will perhaps be allowed.

S. Birchard.

Camp Tompkins, October 21, 1861.
Monday morning before breakfast.

Dearest : — Dr. Clendenin goes home this morning and I got up early to let you know how much I love you. Isn’t this a proof of affection? I dreamed about you last night so pleasantly.

The doctor will give you the news. I see Colonel Tom Ford has been telling big yarns about soldiers suffering. They may be true — I fear they are — and it is right to do something; but it is not true that the fault lies with the Government alone. Colonel Ammen’s Twenty-fourth has been on the mountains much more than the G. G — s [Guthrie Greys], for they have been in town most of the time; but nobody growls about them. The Twenty-fourth is looked after by its officers. The truth is, the suffering is great in all armies in the field in bad weather. It can’t be prevented. It is also true that much is suffered from neglect, but the neglect is in no one place. [The] Government is in part blamable, but the chief [blame] is on the armies themselves from generals down to privates.

It is certainly true that a considerable part of the sick men now in Cincinnati would be well and with their regiments, if they had obeyed orders about eating green chestnuts, green apples, and green corn. Now, all the men ought to be helped and cared for, but in doing so, it is foolish and wicked to assail and abuse, as the authors of the suffering, any one particular set of men. It is a calamity to be deplored and can be remedied by well directed labor, not by indiscriminate abuse.

I am filled with indignation to see that Colonel Ewing is accused of brutality to his men. All false. He is kind to a fault. All good soldiers love him; and yet he is published by some lying scoundrel as a monster.

I’ll write no more on this subject. There will be far more suffering this winter than we have yet heard of. Try to relieve it, but don’t assume that any one set of men are to be blamed for it. A great share of it can’t be helped. Twenty-five per cent of all men who enlist can’t stand the hardships and exposures of the field if suddenly transferred to it from their homes, and suffering is inevitable. Love to all.

Affectionately,

R. B. Hayes.

Mrs. Hayes.

Camp Tompkins, Near Gauley Bridge, October 19, 1861.

Dear Uncle: — It is late Saturday night. I am away from my regiment at General Rosecrans’ headquarters and feel lonesome. The weather is warm, threatening rain. We are waiting events, not yet knowing whether we are to stay here or go to some other quarters for the winter. I can’t help suspecting that important events are looked for near Washington which may determine our course for the winter. All things in that direction have, to my eye, a hopeful look. A victory there if decisive will set things moving all over. We know the enemy we have been after is heartily sick of this whole business, and only needs a good excuse to give it up. A party of our men, bearing a flag of truce, spent a night with a party of Lee’s men a few days ago, and the conversations they report tell the story.

Matthews has gone home for a fortnight. It is quite probable that I shall go home during the fall or winter for a short visit.

We have done no fortifying yet. We occasionally hear of a little guerrilla party and scamper after them, but no important movements are likely to occur here, unless a road should be opened from Washington to Richmond.

I see that Buckland is in the war. That is right. The noticeable difference between North and South in this war is, that South, the leading citizens, the lawyers and public men of all sorts, go into the fight themselves. This has not been so with us in the same degree. I am less disposed to think of a West Point education as requisite for this business than I was at first. Good sense and energy are the qualities required. . . .

Sincerely,

R. B. Hayes.

S. Birchard.

Camp Tompkins, October 19, 1861.

Dearest: — I got your letter of last Sunday yesterday. You can’t be happier in reading my letters than I am m reading yours. Very glad our little Ruddy is no worse.

Don’t worry about suffering soldiers, and don’t be too ready to give up President Lincoln. More men are sick in camps than at home. Sick [men] are not comfortable anywhere, and less so in armies than in good homes. Transportation fails, roads are bad, contractors are faithless, officials negligent or fraudulent, but notwithstanding all this, I am satisfied that our army is better fed, better clad, and better sheltered than any other army in the world. And, moreover, where there is want, it is not due to the general or state Government half as much as to officers and soldiers. The two regiments I have happened to know most about and to care most about — McCook’s Ninth and our Twenty-third — have no cause of complaint. Their clothing is better than when they left Ohio and better than most men wear at home. I am now dressed as a private, and I am well dressed. I live habitually on soldiers’ rations, and I live well.

No, Lucy, the newspapers mislead you. It is the poor families at home, not the soldiers, who can justly claim sympathy. I except of course the regiments who have mad officers, but you can’t help their case with your spare blankets. Officers at home begging better be with their regiments doing their appropriate duties. Government is sending enough if colonels, etc., would only do their part. McCook could feed, clothe, or blanket half a regiment more any time, while alongside of him is a regiment, ragged, hungry, and blanketless, full of correspondents writing home complaints about somebody. It is here as elsewhere. The thrifty and energetic get along, and the lazy and thoughtless send emissaries to the cities to beg. Don’t be fooled with this stuff.

I feel for the poor women and children in Cincinnati. The men out here have sufferings, but no more than men of sense expected, and were prepared for, and can bear.

I see Dr. S— wants blankets for the Eighth Regiment. Why isn’t he with it, attending to its sick? If its colonel and quartermaster do their duties as he does his, five hundred miles off, they can’t expect to get blankets. I have seen the stores sent into this State, and the Government has provided abundantly for all. It vexes me to see how good people are imposed on. I have been through the camps of eight thousand men today, and I tell you they are better fed and clothed than the people of half the wards in Cincinnati. We have sickness which is bad enough, but it is due to causes inseparable from our condition. Living in open air, exposed to changes of weather, will break down one man in every four or five, even if he was “clad in purple and fine linen and fared sumptuously every day.”

As for Washington, McClellan and so on, I believe they are doing the thing well. I think it will come out right. Wars are not finished in a day. Lincoln is, perhaps, not all that we could wish, but he is honest, patriotic, cool-headed, and safe. I don’t know any man that the Nation could say is under all the circumstances to be preferred in his place.

As for the new governor, I like the change as much as you do. He comes in a little over two months from now.

A big dish of politics. I feared you were among croakers and grumblers, people who do more mischief than avowed enemies to the country.

It is lovely weather again. I hope this letter will find you as well as it leaves me. Love and kisses for the dear ones. Affectionately, ever,

R. B. Hayes.

Mrs. Hayes.

Camp Tompkins, October 18, 1861.

Dearest : — Soon after I had sent off my letter yesterday, Mr. Schooley stopped with your bundle and letter. All most acceptable, gloves, etc., particularly. I get all your letters. . . .

Don’t worry about the country. Things are slowly working around. For a first campaign by a green people, we have done well. The Rebellion will be crushed even at this rate by the time our three years are up. McClellan is crowding them. They must fight or run soon, and I think either is death.

We have a little excitement every day over some guerrilla story. But the rumors as they are sifted vanish rapidly into smoke.

Dr. Menzies was here today. He is troubled about his family, about his colonel, and so on. Very queer how some clever people manage to keep in a worriment under all circumstances.

One paymaster has come up. We hope to see ours some day. I shall send you funds as soon as they are paid me.

It is raining — a settled fall rain. But we are in a valley (not on top of Mount Sewell). I have a board floor to my tent. Who cares for the rain? — especially if my wife and bairns are safe under a tight roof by a warm fire. Keep up good courage. Kiss the boys, give my love to all, and continue to have happy dreams about your

Affectionate husband,

Rutherford.

Mrs. Hayes.

October 17, 1861. Camp Tompkins, near New River, two and one-half miles above Gauley Bridge, at General Rosecrans’ Headquarters. — A threatening morning, a steady rain, fall fashion, in the afternoon. Received a letter by Mr. Schooley, dated 9th, from Lucy. Ruddy had been sick with a chill and Lucy not so well. Dear wife! She is troubled in her present trials that I am absent, but stoutly insists that she can bear up, that she is “a good soldier’s wife.” She sends me pants, etc., etc. A great many papers today in the court-martial line. Dr. Menzies called. Somewhat gloomy but not more so than is his wont.

Camp Tompkins, Near Gauley Bridge,
October 17, 1861.

Dearest: — I am practicing law again. My office is pleasantly located in a romantic valley on the premises of Colonel Tompkins of the Rebel army. His mansion is an elegant modern house, and by some strange good luck it has been occupied by his family and escaped uninjured while hundreds of humbler homes have been ruined. Mrs. Tompkins has kept on the good side of our leaders, and has thus far kept the property safe.

The Twenty-third is seven miles or so up the valley of New River. I was there last evening. Dr. Joe has been sick a couple of days but is getting well. Very few escape sickness, but with any sort of care it is not dangerous. Not more than one case in a hundred has thus far proved fatal.

Colonel Matthews has gone home for a few days. You will see him, I hope. If he succeeds in one of the objects of his trip, I shall probably visit you for a few days within six weeks or so.

Our campaign here is ended, I think without doubt. We hear stories which are repeated in your papers which look a little as if there might be an attempt to cut off our communications down the Kanawha, but 1 suspect there is very small foundation for them. We are strongly posted. No force would dare attack us. To cut off supplies is the most that will be thought of, and any attempts to do that must meet with little success, if I am rightly informed about things.

We have had the finest of fall weather for several (it seems many) days. The glorious mountains all around us are of every hue, changing to a deeper red and brown as the frosts cut the foliage. I talk so much of the scenery, you will suspect me to be daft. In fact I never have enjoyed nature so much. Being in the open air a great part of each day and surrounded by magnificent scenery, I do get heady I suspect on the subject. I have told you many a time that we were camped in the prettiest place you ever saw. I must here repeat it. The scenery on New River and around the junction of Gauley and New River where they form the Kanawha, is finer than any mere mountain and river views we saw last summer. The music and sights belonging to the camps of ten thousand men add to the effect.

Our band has improved and the choir in McIlrath’s Company would draw [an] audience anywhere. The companies, many of them, sound their calls with the bugle, which with the echoes heightens the general charm.

I wish you and the boys were over in the Tompkins house. How you would be happy and wouldn’t I? I do hope you will keep well, all of you. Kiss the little fellows all around and the big boy Birch too. Tell Webby the horse Webb is in excellent plight. I suppose “Birch” (the horse) has got home. Love to Grandma and all.

Affectionately,

R. B. Hayes.

Mrs. Hayes.

Camp Tompkins, Gauley Bridge, October 15, 1861.

Dear Mother : — You will be pleased to hear that I am here practicing law. The enemy having vanished in one direction and our army having retired to this stronghold in the other, I, yesterday, left my regiment about seven miles up the river and am here at General Rosecrans’ headquarters, looking after offenders. It is safe enough in all this region. Our soldiers occupy all the leading roads and strong places. We hear of nobody being fired on, even by murderous bushwhackers. . . .

We are in the midst of glorious mountain scenery. Hawk’s Nest and Lover’s Leap are two of the most romantic spots I have ever seen. A precipitous cliff over seven hundred feet high, with high mountains back of it, overlooks a wild rushing river that roars and dashes against the rocks, Niagara fashion. The weather too has been, and is, lovely October weather. Love to all.

Affectionately, your son,

Rutherford.

Mrs. Sophia Hayes.