Camp Cedar Creek, Virginia, November 4, 1864.
My Dear Son: — This is your birthday — eleven years old today — almost a man. In less than eleven years more, everybody will call you a man, you will have a man’s work to do and will be expected to know as much as men know. But you are a good student and an industrious boy, and I have no fears of your being an ignorant or a lazy man.
I wish I could be with you today. I would buy you something that don’t cost much, for I mustn’t spend much now or I shan’t have anything left for that new little brother of yours. Besides, I would tell you about the battles. Uncle Joe has all the good stories now. He says up in Winchester the people work for the soldiers to make a living — they wash and mend and bake. The soldiers say they bake two kinds of pies, “pegged” and “sewed”! The difference is the “pegged” have no sugar in them.
One boy in the Twenty-third was shot in the face. The ball entered near his nose and passed over or through the cheekbone up towards the outer corner of his eye. The surgeon thought it was a small bullet and fearing it would injure his eye to probe for it, let it alone. He got along very well for three weeks, when they cut it out near his temple. They were astonished to find that it was an iron grape-shot over an inch in diameter — as large as one of your India-rubber balls! He is well and never did suffer much! . . .
There have been a good many changes in the Twenty-third and the First Brigade since you saw them last at Loup Creek. Captain McKinley is on General Crook’s staff. He has not been wounded, but every one admires him as one of the bravest and finest young officers in the army. He has had two or three horses shot under him. General Crook said his mess was starving for want of a good cook, so we let him have Frank. Frank is doing well there. Billy Crump has been so faithful that a short time ago he was given a furlough, and is now with his wife. He is coming back soon. Lieutenant Mather is on my staff as provost marshal. He is the only one you are acquainted with. . . .
The band is full; all of them safe and well. I hear them now playing for guard-mounting. We have many fine bands in this army, but none better than ours.
I have lost three horses killed or disabled since I saw you in July. I am now riding a “calico” horse lent to me by Captain Craig. My John horse is with me still, but he will never get fit to use again.
My orderly in the place of Carrington is Underhill of [the] Twenty-third, an excellent young man; you would like him better than Carrington.
Did I write your mother that I found my opera-glass again? It was lost at the battle of Fisher’s Hill. I got it about three weeks afterwards from a Thirty-fourth soldier who found it near the first cannon we captured.
It is getting very cold. We build a sort of fireplace in our tents and manage to be pretty comfortable. You and Webb would enjoy being in this camp. There is a great deal to see and always something going on.
You must learn to write me letters now. My love to all family, “Puds” and all.
Affectionately, your father,
R. B. Hayes.
Master S. B. Hayes [Birchard A. Hayes],
Chillicothe, Ohio.
