Abby Howland Woolsey to her sisters, Georgy and Eliza, with the Sanitary Commission on the Peninsula Campaign.
New York, June 2d, 1862.
My dear Girls : Charley’s letter of Thursday came in this morning. He explained to us his system of numbering and sorting the men’s luggage, etc., which interested us very much, and shows us what his duties are in some of their details. We are glad the nutmegs and lemon-squeezers happened to fit in a gap. What else can we send? I hope Moritz, with the rockers and brandy, will all arrive safely. Do you want more air-beds? . . . Dorus Woolsey has been in for a final goodbye this morning. He will get a furlough as soon as possible, for his business affairs hardly allow of his being absent so soon. The 7th, 22d and 37th are doing police duty at Baltimore. I mean they are the military guard of the city. . . . Rev. J. Cotton Smith went too as chaplain. The night before, he tried to make a speech to them in the regimental armory, but was cheered so that he had to stop. “Go on, go on!” they all cried, and he managed to make himself heard, and said On the whole I won’t go on now; all I want to add is that I am going on to-morrow!” at which there was tremendous cheering again.
Night was made hideous with Herald extras, screamed through the streets between eleven and twelve. We waited till this morning, and got the news in the morning papers of that horrible battle, and what is worse—that indecisive battle. It has shattered the strength of McClellan’s army—what poor creatures were left in it, after all the sickness and fatigue of the march—and has accomplished nothing. . . . Charley says that 3,900 men of Casey’s division were lost on the march. God help them and their families, who can only know that they died like dogs on a roadside with fatigue and hunger. This makes four full regiments out of a division which only had ten to start with. No wonder it was overborne and broke line and scattered! Never accuse such men of cowardice. . . . We are much worked up this morning with this news of our disaster, and with the information that North Carolina slave-laws are re-enforced and Colyer’s black schools disbanded by government direction. What Government that commits such an act, can expect anything but reverses to its arms!
Worst of all, as far as our petty little hopes and interests are concerned, here is the order promulgated this morning, by which General H. B. takes supreme military command of all sick and wounded arriving here on transports. They are to be unloaded at Fort Hamilton and Bedloe’s Island, and the ladies’ game at Park Barracks and at 194 is blocked. B. is a regular of the regulars as to primness and military order, and personally has no more heart than a mustard seed. . . . Jane has gone down this morning full of wrath, to kidnap Abbott, of the 16th, if possible, and send him to his friends in Maine. She wants to get a ticket transferring him to 194 Broadway, when, if necessary, he can be “lost on the way,” and whipped into a carriage and down to the Fall River boat! . . . All these volunteer efforts at comforting and clothing the men must come to an end. Fort Hamilton is too far out of the reach of ladies with oranges and clean pocket handkerchiefs, unless they hire a tug at ten dollars an hour, and go through all the formalities of military passes.
