Jane Eliza Newton Woolsey to her son Charles.
New York, June, ’62.
My dear Charley: Here are lots of scraps for you. Our basket is just going off to the steamer. I hope you will enjoy the gingerbread. We are all anxiety for further accounts since the battles of the last few days. The paper this morning states two deaths on the Knickerbocker of poor wounded men. What trying scenes again for you! I agree with you in all you say of Georgy’s health, but know that persuasion is useless. You ask about coming home. We do not need your aid in getting out of town, however pleasant it would be to have you. There is no prospect of our going at present; we have no place in view at all. . . . Have the rebels cut the telegraph lines, that we get no news from the army? Where are you all to rendezvous now that the White House is given up? Some of the movements seem so mysterious to us–such as this, and the falling back of McClellan’s army to Savage’s Station, and some other strange doings. I hope it will all come out right. Do take care of yourself and the girls. I am so much better satisfied to have you where you are, than with the 22nd. Your Cousins William and Anna have been on to Baltimore to see Lloyd; they are greatly distressed at the idea of his being sworn in, even for three months! . . .
Farewell dear boy. Mother’s love and blessing to you.