Part 3 (2/2)

WALT.

Jeff, Capt. Muller remains here yet for some time. He is bringing out his report. I shall try to send you a copy. Give my best respects to Dr.

Ruggles.

Mother, my last letter home was a week ago to-day--we are having a dark rainy day here--it is now half-past 3. I have been in my room all day so far--shall have dinner in half an hour, and then down to Armory.

VIII

_Was.h.i.+ngton, April 28, 1863._ DEAREST MOTHER--A letter from Jeff came this morning. Mother, I was sorry to hear you had a return of your rheumatism--I do hope you will favor yourself more, it depends so much on that--and rheumatism is so obstinate, when it gets hold of one. Mother, you received a letter from me sent last Wednesday, 22nd, of course, with a small quant.i.ty of s.h.i.+nplasters. Next time you or Jeff writes, I wish you would tell me whether the letters come pretty regularly, the next morning after I write them--this now ought to reach you Wednesday forenoon, April 29th. Mother, did a Mr. Howell call on you? He was here last week to see about his boy, died a long while ago in hospital in Yorktown. He works in the Navy Yard--knows Andrew. You will see about him (the boy) in a letter I sent yesterday to the _Eagle_--it ought to appear to-day or to-morrow.

Jeff, I wish you would take 10 I send in this letter and get me ten copies of the _Eagle_ with it in--put in five more of my pictures (the big ones in last edition ”Leaves”), and a couple of the photographs carte visites (the smaller ones), and send me to the same direction as before; it came very well. I will send an _Eagle_ to Han and George. The stamps and 10 are for Jeff for the papers and postage.

I have written to Han, and sent her George's last two letters from Kentucky; one I got last week from Mount Sterling. I write to George and send him papers. Sam Beatty is here in Was.h.i.+ngton again. I saw him, and he said he would write to George. Mother, I have not got any new clothes yet, but shall very soon I hope. People are more rough and free and easy drest than your way. Then it is dusty or muddy most of the time here. Mother dear, I hope you have comfortable times--at least as comfortable as the law allows. I am so glad you are not going to have the trouble of moving this 1st of May. How are the Browns? Tell Will I should like to see him first rate--if he was here attached to the suite of some big officer, or something of that kind, he would have a good time and do well. I see lots of young fellows not half as capable and trustworthy as he, coming and going in Was.h.i.+ngton, in such positions. The big generals and head men all through the armies, and provosts etc., like to have a squad of such smart, nimble young men around them. Give my respects to Mr. and Mrs. Brown.

Tell Jeff I am going to write to Mr. Lane either to-day or to-morrow. Jeff asks me if I go to hospitals as much as ever. If my letters home don't show it, you don't get 'em. I feel sorry sometimes after I have sent them, I have said so much about hospitals, and so mournful. O mother, the young man in Armory-square, Dennis Barrett, in the 169th N. Y., I mentioned before, is probably going to get up after all; he is like one saved from the grave. Sat.u.r.day last I saw him and talked with him and gave him something to eat, and he was much better--it is the most unexpected recovery I have yet seen. Mother, I see Jeff says in the letter you don't hear from me very often--I will write oftener, especially to Jeff. Dear brother, I hope you are getting along good, and in good spirits; you must not mind the failure of the sewer bills, etc. It don't seem to me it makes so much difference about worldly successes (beyond just enough to eat and drink and shelter, in the moderatest limits) any more, since the last four months of my life especially, and that merely to live, and have one fair meal a day, is enough--but then you have a family, and that makes a difference.

Matty, I send you my best love, dear sister--how I wish I could be with you one or two good days. Mat, do you remember the good time we had that awful stormy night we went to the Opera, New York, and had the front seat, and heard the handsome-mouthed Guerrabella? and had the good oyster supper at Fulton market--(”pewter them ales.”) O Mat, I hope and trust we shall have such times again.

Tell Andrew he must remember what I wrote about the throat, etc. I am sure he will get all right before long, and recover his voice. Give him my love--and tell Mannahatta her Uncle Walt is living now among the sick soldiers. Jeff, look out for the _Eagles_, and send the portraits.

Dearest mother, I must bid you and all for the present good-bye.

WALT.

IX

_Was.h.i.+ngton, Tuesday, May 5, 1863._ DEAREST MOTHER--Your letter came safe, and was very welcome, and always will be. Mother, I am sorry about your rheumatism--if it still continues I think it would be well for me to write a line to Mrs. Piercy, and get Jeff to stop with it, so that you could take the baths again, as I am sure they are very beneficial. Dear mother, you write me, or Jeff must in the next letter, how you are getting along, whether it is any better or worse--I want to know. Mother, about George's fund in the bank; I hope by all means you can scratch along so as to leave $250 there--I am so anxious that our family should have a little ranch, even if it is the meanest kind, off somewhere that you can call your own, and that would do for Ed etc.--it might be a real dependence, and comfort--and may-be for George as much as any one. I mean to come home one of these days, and get the acre or half acre somewhere out in some by-place on Long Island, and build it--you see if I don't. About Hannah, dear mother, I hardly know what advice to give you--from what I know at present I can't tell what course to pursue. I want Han to come home, from the bottom of my heart. Then there are other thoughts and considerations that come up. Dear mother, I cannot advise, but shall acquiesce in anything that is settled upon, and try to help.

The condition of things here in the hospitals is getting pretty bad--the wounded from the battles around Fredericksburg are coming up in large numbers. It is very sad to see them. I have written to Mr. Lane, asking him to get his friends to forward me what they think proper--but somehow I feel delicate about sending such requests, after all.

I have almost made up my mind to do what I can personally, and not seek a.s.sistance from others.

Dear mother, I have not received any letter from George. I write to him and send papers to Winchester. Mother, while I have been writing this a very large number of Southern prisoners, I should think 1,000 at least, has past up Pennsylvania avenue, under a strong guard. I went out in the street, close to them. Poor fellows, many of them mere lads--it brought the tears; they seemed our flesh and blood too, some wounded, all miserable in clothing, all in dirt and tatters--many of them fine young men. Mother, I cannot tell you how I feel to see those prisoners marched.

X

_Was.h.i.+ngton, Wednesday forenoon, May 13, 1863._ DEAREST MOTHER--I am late with my letter this week--my poor, poor boys occupy my time very much--I go every day, and sometimes nights. I believe I mentioned a young man in Ward F, Armory-square, with a bad wound in the leg, very agonizing--had to have it propt up, and an attendant all the while dripping water on night and day. I was in hopes at one time he would get through with it, but a few days ago he took a sudden bad turn and died about 3 o'clock the same afternoon--it was horrible. He was of good family--handsome, intelligent man, about 26, married; his name was John Elliot, of c.u.mberland Valley, Bedford co., Penn.--belonged to 2nd Pennsylvania Cavalry. I felt very bad about it. I have wrote to his father--have not received any answer yet; no friend nor any of his folks was here, and have not been here nor sent--probably don't know of it at all. The surgeons put off amputating the leg, he was so exhausted, but at last it was imperatively necessary to amputate. Mother, I am shocked to tell you that he never came alive off the amputating table--he died under the operation--it was what I had dreaded and antic.i.p.ated. Poor young man, he suffered much, very, _very_ much, for many days, and bore it so patiently--so that it was a release to him. Mother, such things are awful--not a soul here he knew or cared about, except me--yet the surgeons and nurses were good to him. I think all was done for him that could be--there was no help but take off the leg; he was under chloroform--they tried their best to bring him to--three long hours were spent, a strong smelling bottle held under his nostrils, with other means, three hours. Mother, how contemptible all the usual little worldly prides and vanities, and striving after appearances, seems in the midst of such scenes as these--such tragedies of soul and body. To see such things and not be able to help them is awful--I feel almost ashamed of being so well and whole.

Dear mother, I have not heard from George himself; but I got a letter from Fred McReady, a young Brooklyn man in 51st--he is intimate with George, said he was well and hearty. I got the letter about five days ago. I wrote to George four days since, directed to Winchester, Kentucky. I got a letter from a friend in Nashville, Tenn., yesterday--he told me the 9th Army Corps was ordered to move to Murfreesboro, Tenn. I don't know whether this is so or not. I send papers to George almost every day. So far I think it was fortunate the 51st was moved West, and I hope it will continue so. Mother, it is all a lottery, this war; no one knows what will come up next.

Mother, I received Jeff's letter of May 9th--it was welcome, as all Jeff's letters are, and all others from home. Jeff says you do not hear from me at home but seldom. Mother, I write once a week to you regular; but I will write soon to Jeff a good long letter--I have wanted to for some time, but have been much occupied. Dear brother, I wish you to say to Probasco and all the other young men on the Works, I send them my love and best thanks--never anything came more acceptable than the little fund they forwarded me the last week through Mr. Lane. Our wounded from Hooker's battles are worse wounded and more of them than any battle of the war, and indeed any, I may say, of modern times--besides, the weather has been very hot here, very bad for new wounds. Yet as Jeff writes so downhearted I must tell him the Rebellion has lost worse and more than we have. The more I find out about it, the more I think they, the Confederates, have received an irreparable harm and loss in Virginia--I should not be surprised to see them (either voluntarily or by force) leaving Virginia before many weeks; I don't see how on earth they can stay there. I think Hooker is already reaching after them again--I myself do not give up Hooker yet. Dear mother, I should like to hear from Han, poor Han. I send my best love to sister Mat and all. Good-bye, dearest mother.

WALT.

XI

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