Raleigh, Virginia, March 22, 1862.
Dear Mother:—. . . We are in the midst of one of the storms so common in this mountain region. We hope it is the equinoctial and will be followed by good weather. It is a driving snow-storm. The pine trees are crusted with it giving a peculiarly wintry appearance to the hills. Fortunately we are all comfortably housed, except two companies who are on a scout in the mountains after bushwhackers. I hope they will find some sort of shelter these stormy nights.
We all feel more hopeful than ever about an early close of the war. It looks to us as if General McClellan must succeed in forcing a battle that will decide the fate of the Rebellion. I do not expect we shall be released from duty for months, perhaps years, but it seems almost certain that a victory in eastern Virginia will decide the war.
I hope you will be able to see the little folks all gathered at Fremont as you anticipate. The boys look forward to it impatiently. Webb was six years old the day before yesterday. He is now to go at his books. His mind runs on horses more than on books. Birch is a very sincere believer in the efficacy of prayer in our common affairs and is finishing the war in that way, famously, as he thinks.
Love to all. — As Fremont is commander of this division, we expect prompt and rapid movements. I shall write to you rarely when we once set out. All important events occurring to me or this army you will know by telegraph. The wires still follow us wherever we go.
Affectionately, your son,
Rutherford.
Mrs. Sophia Hayes.
