_Washington, 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
assistance 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
_Washington, 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 Cumberland 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 anticipated. 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.