CAMP JACKSON, Sunday, June 16, 1861.
DEAREST L—:—Morning work done and waiting till Dr. Hoge begins, I write to my darling wife and boys. Would you like to know our daily routine. (Mem.:—Colonel King commanding State troops and my superiors, Colonels Rosecrans and Matthews, all having gone home, I am now in command of all at this post, eighteen companies United States troops and sixteen companies State troops, in all three thousand men and upwards. A sudden responsibility for a civilian, but the duties are chiefly such as a civilian can easily do, so it is strange rather in appearance than reality). First, at 5 A. M., gun fired and reveille sounded, calling all men to roll-call. I was up and dressing. Owing to bright light in a tent, sound sleeping in the cool air, etc., etc., this I did not find difficult. In a few minutes all the captains call at my tent to report themselves and the condition of their men.
I sit at a table looking towards the front entrance of the tent; an orderly on my right to go errands; a clerk at a table on the left to write; an adjutant ditto to give orders and help me guess what ought to be done in each case, and a sentinel slowly pacing back and forth in front of the entrance whose main employment is telling men to take off their hats before entering on the surroundings. The first business is looking over the orders of the day, and telling the adjutant to see them carried out. These are as to guards and such, which are stereotyped with slight alterations to suit circumstances—such as guarding wells, fixing new sentinels where men are suspected of getting out, etc., etc. Next comes issuing permits to go out of camp to town and to parties to go bathing in the Scioto one and one-half miles distant. Then comes in, for an hour or more, the morning reports of roll-call, showing the sick, absent, etc., etc., all to be looked over and corrected; and mistakes abound that are curious enough. Once we got all the officers returned as “under arrest.” One captain lost a lieutenant, although he was present as plainly as Hateful W. Perkins was in Pease’s anecdote. Then rations are returned short; on that point I am strong, and as the commissary is clever, we soon correct mistakes. Then we have difficulties between soldiers, very slight and easily disposed of; but troubles between soldiers and the carpenters whose tools disappear mysteriously, and farmers in the neighborhood who go to bed with roosts of barnyard fowl and wake up chickenless and fowlless, are more troublesome. The accused defenders of their country can always prove an alibi by their comrades, and that the thing is impossible by the sentinels whose beat they must have passed.
Since writing the above, I have waited under a tree, with a flag raised, three quarters of an hour for Dr. Hoge’s congregation, but for some reason he did not come, and an audience of one thousand were disappointed, possibly(?), however, not all disagreeably. I have sent five men and a sergeant to arrest two deserters in Columbus (not of our regiment) belonging to Captain Sturgess’ company of Zanesville; one sergeant and two men to see safely out of camp two men who were about to have their heads shaved for refusing to take the oath of allegiance; a lieutenant and ten men to patrol the woods back of the camp, to prevent threatened depredations on a farmer. This all since I began writing. The wind is rising and the dust floats in on my paper, as you see. As yet, we eat our meals at Colonel King’s quarters—plain good living. Guard-mounting is a ceremonious affair at 9 A. M. At 12 M., drum-beat and roll-call for dinner; at 6 P. M., ditto for supper; at 7 P. M., our band calls out the regiment for a parade; not yet a “dress parade,” but a decidedly imposing affair, notwithstanding. The finale is at 10 P.M.
The evenings and night are capital. The music and hum, the cool air in the tent, and open-air exercise during the day, make the sleeping superb. We have cots about like our lounge, only slighter and smaller, bought in Dayton. Our men are fully equal to the famous Massachusetts men in a mechanical way. They build quarters, ditches, roads, traps; dig wells, catch fish, kill squirrels, etc., etc., and it is really a new sensation, the affection and pride one feels respecting such a body of men in the aggregate.
We are now feeling a good deal of anxiety about Colonel Rosecrans. He is said to be appointed a brigadier. If it were to take effect six weeks or three months hence, we would like it if he should be promoted; but now we fear some new man over us who may not be agreeable, and we do not like the difficulties attendant upon promotion. The governor says we shall not lose Colonel Rosecrans, and we hope he is right.
I enclose a letter in the Cleveland Herald written by some one in one of our Cleveland companies. With Colonel Rosecrans in command, we should have no trouble with our men. We have reconciled them as, I think, perfectly, or as nearly so as men ever are with their officers. But if Colonel Rosecrans goes, we are between Scylla and Charbydis you know—officers at our head whom we may not like, or men under us who do not like us; but it will all come right. I am glad I am here, and only wish you were here.
I was in at Platt’s last evening an hour or so. Laura was expecting Platt by the late train, but as he has not yet come out here, I suspect he did not arrive. Love to all. Kiss the boys. I enjoyed reading your talk about them and their sayings.
Affectionately,
R. B. HAYES.
MRS. HAYES.
