Washington, July 8, 1861.
My dear Cousin Margaret: I should have begun by dating my letter Ebbitt House, we having been established here since Saturday, spending the first three days of our visit, or probation, at the “National,” in the fifth story, a prey to several inconveniences, but refreshingly near processions. Joe sent his man down to meet us, and came himself after evening drill. He looks brown and well; is dashing round on horseback all day from camp to the War Department, and back again to camp, where he must spend seven hours a day drilling. Then all the cracks are filled up with our society out there. We go out every day in time for evening drill, and stay till it is time to shut up for the night, having a nice time in the door of Joe’s tent “in the cool of the day,” and this sort of thing we fondly thought was going to last an indefinite length of time, till yesterday, when Joe surprised us by the news that they were ordered into Virginia, and would leave on Tuesday or Wednesday. The Colonel has been made an acting Brigadier-General, and he and Joe were eight hours in the saddle yesterday, flying round selecting three regiments to form the Brigade with the Sixteenth. Joe has been in today on the same business, being entrusted to decide upon them and take whichever he thought best; and has chosen the Eighteenth, Twenty-first and Thirty-first–all from New York. So on Wednesday I suppose they will move over the bridge, and then we shall deliver our letters of introduction and plunge into occupation of some kind.
Washington is the stillest place for a city I have ever been in; nobody knows anything, or has anything to say. Everything is guess work. A few doleful little boys call the evening papers round the doors of the hotel, but in a tone that fixes a gloom upon you. I hate the “Eve-ening Star” already, and our only news comes via New York. The Tribune, Times and Herald have a great deal of information about what goes on here, and it generally proves true. . . . One longs now and then for a real living and lying “Extra” boy, with his mouth full of fearful statements, all disproved by his paper which you imprudently buy. We went, of course, to the opening of Congress and also to hear President Lincoln’s message, read on the fifth.
Charley has been about visiting the camps at Alexandria, Georgetown and Arlington, but for all this a pass is necessary, which can only be procured through General Mansfield on introduction by some one known to him. If Lenox knows anyone at home who knows the General it would save him half a day to get his letter before coming on. Charley got his through Colonel Davies who is a relative of the General’s. I hope Lenox will come on, but it is too bad that he will not see Joe. . . .
Here comes a regiment down this street. About 15,000 men have gone over into Virginia since we came on. Joe goes up in rank with his Colonel as his aid – is now Captain and Assistant Adjutant General–and the Brigade will be in McDowell’s Division. . . . The regiment has marched past– the Massachusetts Eleventh just from Harrisburg, all in beautiful order, gray uniforms and large clean havelocks. New England doesn’t do anything by halves. . . . And here goes another company, guarding thirteen well-filled baggage wagons and followed by its regiment. We have only to flourish our handkerchiefs and the dear fellows will kiss their hands, twirl their hats and manifest affection for the entire woman population of the North. They are the Fourth Maine, and are going over into Virginia. I must put up my letter and watch them marching along. Our love to the Doctor and the boys.