Washington, D.
C., July
1,1864.
Here it is July, Frank, and I am not out of this miserable place yet. I
expect now to go down to the front the first of next week. I am assigned to the
Ninth Corps, and shall keep the same brigade that I was in before. It was very
strong,—five regiments Massachusetts and two United States. Since I came away,
the Regulars have been transferred to the Fifth Corps. I shall probably have no
permanent staff at present. As soon as we have a respite and reorganize a
little, I shall try to get together a congenial and efficient one. Ben has been
waiting for my promotion, to go on the staff. I have written him that it is a
bad time to join just now, — heat, dirt, reduced commands, etc., — and it may
discourage him. Of course it will be pleasant for me to have him for a
companion. Herbert is here now. Goes back to-night. He would like to go with me
if he could ride. He gets very impatient and blue at times. If he could only
ride!
Yes, Frank, I have got my commission at last, signed by Abe and
Stanton. Gotten up in great style, in a brown tin case, with my name, rank,
etc., in large letters of gold on the outside. The appointment was made early
in June, but the Senate had no executive session till the 20th. You were right,
Frank, in addressing my letter as you did, although the confirmation was made
when I got it. I was very much annoyed by receiving letters of congratulation,
etc., before the confirmation. Meant in all kindness, of course; but I was
sorry that anything was known about it until it was confirmed. I saw it, the
appointment, in the paper (Boston paper at that) first, just after I wrote you
last. I must say I hardly expected it.
The weather here has been fearfully hot. Almost unbearable. I gave a
small dinner night before last at Buhler's; Majors Cutting and Raymond, of
Augur's Staff, Caspar and Herb., with one or two others, made a very pleasant
little party. Buhler quite surpassed my expectations. It is the best place in
Washington, I think, although I heard that it had fallen off.
Yesterday, Herb. and I drove out to Fall's Church, to Caspar's Camp. I
have found myself many times this last week wishing that you were here; but you
were enjoying the cool breezes which I could not have procured for you here,
and were better off.
I have too much in my mind that I want to say to you to begin to put it
on paper.
The “gobbling” of the old brigade that the Twentieth was in was an
unlucky termination to a long and brave career. I am glad the Twentieth
escaped.
I am getting quite thin. My stump gets smaller every day. I have two
thicknesses of leather, and two or three wads of paper round my stump, to fill
up the socket. If it continues to wilt, I shall have to get another new socket
made, which will delay me.
Ever yours,
Frank.
SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis
Bartlett, p. 107-8
