Jane Stuart Woolsey to her sister, Georgeanna.
Charley’s letter to the Post was quite a success and I advise him to continue his communications. The Vanderbilt, Government Hospital Ship, got in last night at six or seven, and will be emptied to-day, I suppose. There has been a great and general muss on the whole subject (of course) between General B— and Satterlee and their underlings, parties of the first part,—and all the State agents and volunteer doctors, parties of the second part, the old fight between regulars and volunteers—conflict of authority and efforts to sustain small personal dignities at the expense of everything else. In the meantime however, the patients, contrary to the usual course, have not suffered very much, as the public have had pretty free access to them and their wants have been supplied. Now, all transports are obliged to anchor in the stream and report to the regular quartermaster. . . . The Vanderbilt is the first arrival under the new regime and we shall see how it works. As much flourish of authority as they like, if it only shows fruit in the comfort of the patients, a subject on which I have misgivings. Fort Hamilton is the new depot; that and Bedloe’s Island. We went to the Island on Friday and found things improving. A few weeks ago Dr. Agnew (I think) or one other of the Commission went down and found the doctor drunk, the stewards on leave given by themselves, and the fever patients dying of neglect. He, whoever he was, cruised about the Island, found ten pounds of beef, cut it up and made broth himself, and spent the night feeding the sick men. They have got a new surgeon now, but I think the steward steals. One reform at a time. We are determined, we “females,” to make the place much too hot for him if we can prove anything. But how many weak-minded sisters there are! I never realized before how few people in the world are really clever and how very few are capable of “taking the responsibility.” I have also discovered that there is nothing like philanthropy to bring out the quarreling propensities. Two young gentlemen called yesterday and asked for Charley, expressing great surprise that he hadn’t got back, as they saw him driving his horse a day or two ago. They might have mistaken the man, but they appeared confident on the subject of the horse. So, Charley, Mr. Coles may be guilty of some black-hearted treachery. My mind always misgave me that Wilson’s men went out o’nights with Nelly Bly. What is the news from Joe and the 16th? We search the papers in vain to find his whereabouts. Yesterday in the Herald, in a chance letter, was this, “General Franklin, in crossing a brook to-day, got mired in the soft earth banks and was thrown, but instantly emerged unhurt, dripping, puffing and laughing.” That is the only public news I have seen of the Division for ten days. Where are they?
