[from the diary of Charles Hay of the 23rd Ohio, returning from furlough]
Fayetteville., Va., Feb. 8th., 1862.
Yesterday morning at 6 o’clock I left the
“Glenwood”, and embarked on the small Government
steamer “Gen’l Meigs” for the rest of my journey up
the Kanawha. She is a small affair, used for the
transportation of Government supplies, and running on
the head-waters of the Kanawha. As we proceed up
the river, the hills, become more lofty and rough=
=looking, and rise precipitously almost from the very
banks of the river. Rough and forbidding as the
exterior appears, there is, without doubt, a rich mine
of mineral wealth beneath, that would amply
repay the industry of the enterprising laborer. ~~
So very rapid does the current of the river
become as we approach nearer the head that our
progress is discouragingly slow, insomuch that we
do not reach Loop Creek landing until 11 ½
o’clock, a distance of but 28 miles from Camp
Piatt. A journey of 17 miles more must be
accomplished before we reach Fayetteville. Leaving
the boat, we ascend the bank to the road, which
we find at this place to be a perfect ocean of
mud. Proceeding, we find it no better, there being
scarcely a by=path, and even this is sometimes
barricaded by a seemingly impassable barrier of –
mud. Mud to the right., mud to the left,
mud behind, mud before, mud beneath, and I
had almost said mud above us; and
mud of the muddiest kind, not mud mud in its simplest
state but mud in the superlative degree. The
almost fabulous stories of the traveler “out West”
who lost his horses and wagons, and was obliged to
stick up a stake to mark the spot of the
disaster, or others of a like character, I have
always received with a due amount of allowances, but
now I can exercise more credulity concerning them,
and sympathize, at the same time, with the truly
unfortunate individual who could be so unlucky.
How, in the name of wonder, army supplies in
heavy, lumbering army wagons can be transported
over such roads (it is almost mockery to call then such)
is a matter of wonder to me. The dead mules and
horses laying scattered along will attest to how hard
the lot is of the poor brute, whose, unlucky stars
doom him to toil and labor in this miserably
muddy country. ~~ Well, truly, it is discouraging to
the traveler with conveyance to Journey here, but to the
pedestrian it is infinitely more so, especially if he
has no boots, as was the case with the unfortunate
individual who relates this . ~ However, regardless of
consequences, I traveled the entire distance by 8
last night, not without becoming fatigued, and
very near “played out.” And here I found that
Capt. Drake’s Company were in Raleigh, 25 miles
south of here, whither they had gone a couple of days
previous, but being acquainted at the Hospital, I
resorted thither. Eating some supper, I retired to
bed, and this morning felt somewhat refreshed,
but hardly able to undertake the Journey before
me. As it is a wet and dismal=looking day,
I have been out but little, consequently I shall
finish my present observations here; only remarking
that if everything is favorable I shall leave for
Raleigh tomorrow morning.
The Doctor informs me that there are but 10
patients in the Hospital, and no one is consid=
=ered dangerously ill.
[transcription by Mary Roy Dawson Edwards]
MSS 13925
