One Hundred Miles South Of The Potomac,
September 27, 1864.
Dear Uncle: — Our work seems to be done for the present. The cavalry and small scouting parties are after the scattered and broken army. It looks as if we should, after [a] while, return towards the Potomac. We are resting in the magnificent Valley of Virginia. A most happy campaign it has been. Our chance to act has been good, and it has been well improved. My immediate command is one of the very finest, and has done all one could desire.
There are five or six brigadier-generals and one or two major-generals, sucking their thumbs in offices at Harpers Ferry and elsewhere, who would like to get my command. One came out here yesterday to ask for it, but General Crook tells them he has all the commanders he wants and sends them back. There is not a general officer in General Crook’s army and has not been in this campaign.
Things look well in all directions. Lincoln must be re-elected easily, it seems to me. Rebel prisoners — the common soldiers — all talk one way: “Tired of this rich man’s war; determined to quit if it lasts beyond this campaign.”
Sincerely,
R. B. Hayes.
S. Birchard.
