Woolsey family letters during the War for the Union

August, ‘61.

Dear Girls: I have wrenched this opportunity from Abby to take my turn in writing you. It is as good as a fight to attempt to do anything useful in this family. Each one considers it her peculiar province, and if I manage to tuck in a handkerchief or two in the next box of hospital supplies I shall consider myself successful beyond expectation—speaking of which, T. D. brought in a splended lot last night that we had commissioned him to get the night before. . . . Abby says, “would you like three or four hundred brown duck havelocks for any of the brigade?” They can be bought ready-made. If so, find out from the quartermaster of the DeKalb regiment which pattern he thinks best, and let us know. In this connection I would advise that you answer all questions that we ask, and don’t suppose that they are put in to fill up. Mother and Charley are still in Astoria; they drove out in C’s little wagon Tuesday evening. I think mother repented before she got to the corner. I arranged her toes under the iron bar of the dash-board so that she could have that at least to hold on by, in case the horse went off the slow walk which Charley promised to keep to. . . . We have been holding a family conclave down in Mother’s room in which it has been decided,—that is, after bullying the girls into consent,—that Charley and I go up to Lenox on Monday, and engage rooms for the following Friday somewhere, if not in Lenox then in Lebanon. But go we must—the girls will slave themselves to death if we stay in town, and nothing short of heroic decision on our part will induce them to leave.

August, ‘61.

Dear Girls: Did you give the company captains my little books by Ordronneaux? If not, please do so. They have much useful advice, and as each captain ought to be the father of his company, and look after its welfare in every respect, some such little manual might be useful to them.

In regard to your enquiry about sending the Tribune and Independent to the hospitals regularly from the publication office, I would say that I have already so ordered 10 copies of the Independent sent every week for the coming three months, beginning with this week’s issue. It is prepaid and will be delivered free by Adams Express at the hospital. Charlie has gone down this morning to order the Semiweekly World or Tribune sent in the same way. . . You will receive 12 Independents which he has put up for the Columbia or any other hospital, and some packages for the chaplain of the 16th. . . .

The young men of the New York Christian Association who have been in Washington and Alexandria making the rounds of the hospitals, writing letters for the men and ministering generally, send word that they have never known a single chaplain of any regiment present himself to enquire for his sick or wounded, that there is no resident chaplain, and no one at hand to read or pray for a dying man, or to conduct the funeral services of the dead in the city hospitals. This must be especially the case with the Alexandria hospital—for in that town hardly any clergymen are left. . . . It would be encouraging to know that somebody was detailed in each hospital for special chaplain’s duty. Cannot some arrangement be made? . . .

You must tell us something more about the men of the 16th. . . . How do they cook their food and how is it distributed? Is the camp kept drained and clean? What do the men sleep on? Have they chances for bathing, washing clothes, etc.? . . . Two-thirds of the New York regiments as examined by the Sanitary Commission are crowded too many in a tent—regardless of ventilation—and liable next month to some terrible pestilence. The only sign, so far, that I can see of God’s mercy and the justice of our cause, is the absence as yet of any serious epidemic. . . . But as carelessness, bad habits, hot weather, etc., only sow seeds of sickness to ripen in autumn, we may yet have that plague too, overtake us.

August, ‘61.

I think that the best you can do is to make your own private arrangement for missionary work two days a week, say, in the Columbia College and two in the Alexandria hospital. I mention these because I suppose they are the two you would be likely to have best access to, and where your suggestions would be best received. You would have to do it with the consent of, or knowledge of, the head physician, superintendent, or whatever Cerberus it is who guards the portals. . . . You need not wait to find out what anybody else is doing. You have a grand scheme on hand for making the hospitals military posts and so entitled to chaplains, but I hardly think you will succeed. . . .

Shall I not apply to Professor Smith for information about a graduate of Union Theological Seminary who would be glad of such an appointment and who has qualifications for such special missionary work?—some one who could be set to work at once, under the “young men’s” auspices or your private patronage, and afterward get a government commission if such are granted. . . .

How strange some of the statements in Russel’s last letter are! That there was no hand to hand fighting at Bull Run. No batteries charged and taken by the Federalists. No masked batteries at all on the side of the rebels, etc., and then that horrid, insulting, false editorial from the London Times in yesterday’s Tribune! I am sure that is aiding and abetting our enemies if anything is, and Russell as the representative of such a paper ought not to be allowed within our lines again. . . .

Do you two ever refresh yourselves by a drive out into the country—for pleasure purely,—with your thoughts so busy always?

Headquarters of the Army,…….
Washington, Aug. , 1861.

My dear Mrs. Howland: If you will send me the names of the persons you want appointed to act as Chaplains for the Hospitals, I will get the Lieutenant-General to give them (not a regular commission) but an authority to visit and have free access to the Hospital at all times.

This will invest with full authority, but no rank or emolument.

Yours very truly,

H. Van Rensselaer.

. . I hope I have found the right man. Young Hopkins, son of President Mark Hopkins of Williams College, has just been in, and will think of it. If he can and will accept, he is as near being just the man as need be. He is not ordained, but I suppose can be, if necessary. Will you write me, if it is so? He is a Christian gentleman, every way, and a very able man intellectually. If you think well of him, and he agrees, when shall he come? Please write soon.

I have the most entire confidence in Mr. Hopkins’ discretion and courtesy. He does not seek mere position, he only wants to do good.

Yours truly,

H. B. Smith.

Ebbitt House, Washington, August 10, 1861.

Dear Joe: We had a very successful journey in from camp yesterday, for who should be on the boat but the Prince (called by the public “Captain Paris,”) McDowell, and McClellan himself, whom Mrs. Franklin introduced to us, and who helped us all into the carriage when we reached Washington. He and General Franklin are old and dear friends. He is singularly young and boyish-looking for so important a position, but at the same time has a look and manner that inspire respect. The Prince is exactly like the picture of his uncle. We hoped they would all discuss secrets of state, but the topic was persistently the range of different kinds of cannon. . . . Georgeanna goes to Alexandria this morning to look up a hospital Mr. Vernon told her of and take them some comforts. . . . There is no news except the sad story of Lyon’s death in Missouri, and the mutiny here in the 79th, which was put down summarily by the display of six cannon, three companies of cavalry and a good many infantry, which came down upon them yesterday afternoon. The ringleaders, about 26, were put under arrest last night and in irons, and the rest marched off into the darkness somewhere. The trouble was that they did not like their new Colonel, and would not serve under Sickles as Brigadier. In the latter we sympathize with them.

Letters from home report all well in Lenox. . . . I send one from Mary. We shan’t think of going North at present.

Brevoort Place, August 8th, 1861.

Your response to my patriotic fervors gave me a sort of chill. We did not seem en rapport. . . . We are heartily ready to record our faith that the war is worth what it may cost, although the end may be only—only! the preservation of the Government, and not, just now, the liberation of the slaves. Perhaps you hold, with Mr. Phillips and Abby (I believe they comprise the entire party) that the war is not justifiable if it “means only stars and stripes.” We think, or to resume the perpendicular pronoun, I think that is enough for it to mean or seem to mean at present. “The mills of the Gods grind slow,” you know, or, if you will let me requote to you your own quotation, “you cannot hurry God.” Don’t you and Mr. Phillips want to hurry Him a little? I would rather, for my part, think with Mrs. Stowe, that the question of the existence of free society covers that other question, and that this war is Eternally Righteous even if it “means only the stars and stripes.” .. . We are all getting bravely over the two or three dreadful days of a fortnight ago, and coming to think that our retreat under the circumstances was not such a bad thing after all. . . . Monday after Bull Run was a frightful day in Washington. Georgy says a thick gloom oppressed them which the knowledge of the safety of those nearest them could not lighten in the least, and that a sad procession of the wounded was passing through the streets all day under the heavy rain. . . . Many of the men are but slightly wounded, and all are perfectly patient, cheerful and only eager for “another chance.” “Tell her about the wound in my hand preventing me from writing,” one man said, for whom Georgy was writing home. “And the wound in your leg?” G. asked. “No, never mind about that.” “And I shall say you fought bravely?” “Oh, no matter about that; she’d be sure of that.” They have known two or three cases of Southern barbarity to our wounded. But the poor wretches expected the same thing at our hands. Dr. Bacon, an intimate friend who has just come home with his regiment, Connecticut 2nd, says in the battle on Sunday he came upon a piece of shade in which four or five wounded Georgians were lying, and what was very painful to him, every man believed that he had come to kill them, lying there disabled. One young fellow called out, “Don’t hurt me, I’m hurt enough already,” and the rest made a feeble show of defending themselves. Of course he dressed their wounds, and did what he could for them with more than usual care and gentleness, and I can bear witness how careful and gentle that must have been, but it was hard to tell which emotion was uppermost with them, gratitude or astonishment. Mr. Maclise, of the 71st, which has come home, says he found a wounded man under a tree, a Carolinian, he thinks, who begged for his life in the same way. “Bless your soul,” Maclise said, “I wouldn’t hurt you for the world; don’t you want some water?” The poor fellow eagerly took the water from his enemy’s canteen. “If I only had a cup I could give you some brandy,” Mr. M. added. “Oh, just look in my knapsack and you’ll find a cup.” So Maclise opened the knapsack, took out a beautiful silver cup, mixed the draught, and made his patient as comfortable as he knew how, bringing home the silver cup, at the Carolinian’s most urgent entreaty, as a souvenir of that sad day. He will try and return it one of these days. But what a blackness of darkness, of falsehood and misrepresentation lies behind all this. These perfectly intelligent men devoutly believed that we would kill them, unarmed, sick and helpless! . . . The “prevailing” Prince comes and goes, and nobody seems to care much about it. We have learned something, or it is that we have too many troubles of our own to care for the pleasures of princes. He overstayed his time at Mount Vernon the other day, and there was a splendid story that he had been captured, but he spoiled the bulletins and the joke by coming back to a soiree at two o’clock at night. . . . We are going, as much for duty as pleasure, to Lenox, to-morrow or Saturday, for a few weeks, to refresh ourselves for the winter. As long as McClellan keeps quiet we shall stay. He resigned one day last week. Col. Davies dined with us yesterday and told us so, from his uncle, General Mansfield, who had seen the letter. The administration attempted some interference in his reforms, and he sent in his resignation. It was immediately hushed up, refused, of course, and he was allowed to have his way.

25 Cooper Union, N. Y., August 7th, 1861.

My dear Miss Woolsey: Dr. Blackwell, at our last board meeting, read a very interesting letter from you, giving details about the hospitals. We should be very much obliged if you would be willing to write us a few incidents in regard to hospital supplies. Any little personal anecdote relative to the pleasure caused by the receipt of these delicacies and stores, any message from a wounded soldier, would go farther to interest our country contributors, than any figure-statements of what has been, and is to be, done. . . .

The response made to our appeals is grand, and it is a privilege to know and feel the noble spirit that animates the women of the loyal states. We have contributions not only from our own states, but from Conn., New Jersey, Massachusetts and Michigan. Within the last fortnight our receipts have amounted to over 7000 different articles of clothing and 860 of edibles. . . .

Our letters from the Sanitary Commission say that the hospitals near Washington are now well supplied.

Washington, August —.

Hurrah for you, to be offered the Colonelcy of the regiment! I am glad, however, that you have no wish to take it. I shrink from any such responsibility for you.

Dr. Bacon came in last evening and we had a nice pleasant chat. His regiment, the 2nd Connecticut, goes home to-day to be mustered out. We saw them march down yesterday to give up their arms and were struck with their fine manly appearance and precision in marching. Dr. Bacon is anxious to come back to the army and hopes that one regiment at least may be formed of the three just returning, in which he may serve. He has left one of his patients at the new Columbian College Hospital and commended him to our care. We shall see him this afternoon and take him jelly, slippers, etc. The slippers are from a large boxful which Lenox Hodge has sent us, our commission. They are scarce at the hospitals and in great demand. Cousin M. Hodge writes of her happiness at hearing of your safety and welfare. Columbian College Hospital is just opened and only half organized, but already crowded. It will be nice, but now they have few comforts or conveniences, scarcely any sheets, no water, etc. One of G’s nurse friends is there working like a slave, as are the other five women nurses. We spent the morning there helping them, reading to the men, writing letters for them, etc.