Cross Lanes, Virginia, September 22, [1861].
Sunday morning, before breakfast.
Dearest: — It is a cold, drizzly, suicidal morning. The equinoctial seems to be a severe storm. Part of our force has crossed [the] Gauley to operate in conjunction with General Cox who is near us. The enemy have retreated in a broken and disheartened condition twenty or thirty miles to near Lewisburg. Unless largely reinforced, they will hardly make another stand. The first fair day our regiment will cross [the] Gauley and the rest will follow as weather permits. We have such a long line of transportation and as the wet fall months are at hand, I suspect we shall not attempt to go further than Lewisburg, possibly to the White Sulphur Springs, before we go into winter quarters.
You know I am ordered to be attached to headquarters. As soon as my regiment moves they will leave me. This is hard, very. I shall feel badly enough when they march off without me. There are some things pleasant about it, however. In the first place, I shall probably not be kept away more than a month or two before I shall be relieved. Then, I shall be in much more immediate communication with you. I can at any time, if need be, dispatch you; so you are within an hour of me. I shall travel a good deal and may possibly go to Ohio. I began my new duties by trying to do a good thing. I have sent for Channing Richards to be my clerk. He is a private in the Guthries. Enough said. If he comes as he is ordered to by the general, and as no doubt he will, I can easily see how his education, brought to notice as it will be, will get him into the way of promotion. I have also a soldier of the Twenty-third, who has been a sailor, an ostler, and a cook, and will be able to look after me in his several capacities. . . .
The wounded are all doing well. The number now in the hospital is small. The doctor has been getting discharges or furloughs for our sick. The rest are getting hardened to this life and I hope we shall continue healthy. Colonel Matthews has been slightly, or even worse, sick, not so as to confine him to his quarters except one morning. His health generally has been excellent. The “poor blind soldier,” as Birtie called him, is perfectly well again. . . .
It is coming out a bright warm day. Weather is a great matter in camp. A man so healthy and independent of weather as I am can keep up spirits in bad weather; but [to] a camp full, on wet ground, under wet tents, hard to get food, hard to cook it, getting homesick, out of money, out of duds, weather becomes an important thing.
Speaking of duds, I ought to have a neckerchief, a pair of officers’ thick gloves, two soldiers’ shirts with collars, flannel collars same as the shirt. I have worn but one white shirt in two months, and as only one of my thick shirts has a collar, I am more or less bored for the want of them. I shall get soldiers’ shirts by the first arrival.
Love to the dear boys. I am hoping to send you money soon. If the paymaster will only come! Love to all the rest as well and bushels for your own dear self.
Affectionately,
R. B. Hayes.
P. S. — Dr. Clendenin arrived today and is brigade surgeon of our (Colonel Scammon’s) brigade. This pleases Joe and all. We are lucky in doctors. Colonel Scammon says, “No doubt Dr. Clendenin is a good man, but I would prefer Dr. Webb.”
Mrs. Hayes.
