New York, July 3, 1861.<\/p>\n
My dear Joe:<\/em> It was a satisfaction to us, at least, to receive your telegram of yesterday morning about half-past four in the afternoon. I was sorry that Eliza could not have seen it before she and Georgy left, at 3 p. m. But she was in good spirits, having received your letter with the account of your strange, safe march \u201cthrough Baltimore,\u201d \u201cthat luke-loyal, flagless city,\u201d as somebody from the Garibaldi Guard, writing to the Post, calls it. By the way, I think your camp and the Babel-camp of the Garibaldians must be near each other, from the accounts. I am glad yours is on that high open ground\u2013 a hitherto undefended part of Washington, too, I think. \u201cCamp Woolsey,\u201d has a strange sound to us, there never having been any military association with the name in our family. Naval<\/em> officers you know we have had, and there is a little village of five houses down at Pensacola named after the Commodore \u201cWoolsey.\u201d[1]<\/a> I send by this mail some maps for Georgy and Eliza. Carry, Jane and I are living very quietly and miss you all sadly. Mother and Hatty intend to spend the Fourth at Astoria.<\/p>\n Every morning I wake up to bright sunshine and familiar sounds and sights, and think for a second that perhaps all this pageant and preparation of war has been a horrid dream! A busy reality to you I dare say, hardly giving you time to read this or even to remember<\/p>\n Yours affectionately,<\/p>\n A. H. W.<\/p>\n
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