1862 October 1 Washington

Washington October 1st 1862
My dear Charlie
               Your letter of the
12st arrived this morning, with two or
three from the West--I am very grateful
to you for writing with such promptitude
and regularity, and appreciate the effort
it must be to you amid so many pressing
duties--What I should do if you acted
otherwise I hardly know.  You are my only
link of interest with the world, and I
long for you letters as I would long for
you, if there were any possibility of seeing
you.  Such portions as are meet for the
public I quote--the rest I reserve carefully
for myself.  I write very frequently but fear
my letters cannot reach you--you so rarely
speak of receiving them.  I do not number
them because I have lost the count--This
is the 10th or 12th I think.  You tell me
not to be anxious, and might as wisely

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tell the wind not to blow.  My thoughts
are with you whenever they can escape
from the old, sad subject, and always
with painful anxiety.  Yet I have had
from the first, as you will remember,
a sort of confidence in your personal
safety.  I know you to be in constant
danger but feel as though you would be
protected.  Never hesitate to write to me
frankly from fear of alarming or exciting
me.  I promise you solemnly to do nothing
rash, or of which you could reasonably
disapprove--but let me have the comfort
always of knowing what it is that I have
to fear.  Your recent exploits have fired
Willie's little heart--truly your life has
become one of great adventure and responsibility-
there can be few persons in this distracted
country for whom the past six months
have wrought greater changes than for you--
I rejoice in every success of yours, while
I shudder at the frightful picture you
render of the country where your lot is now
cast--Dear Charlie, if you live and I

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live, I shall surely have cause to be proud
of you--try to keep, even amid these bloody
heard-hardening scenes, so that I can love
you.  I hardly know whether to feel more
anxious about you in body or mind.  they
take very few papers in this household and
I have seen no account of your fight at
Bolivar.  Mr. Walter Fenton told me of a
complimentary notice int he Baltimore
American and promised to send me the
paper, but has not yet done so. He seems
to regard your position as a most anomalas
one; evident cannot reconcile his mind to
the idea of a medical cadet, holding military
and naval command. The poor fellow,
is in wretched health--hardly about to
sustain himself.  I have a good many visitors,
more than I care to attend to and all
enquire kindly after you.  I am now only
waiting for an escort n order to start for
Bunker Hill.  I am becoming very anxious
to get under Aunt Sarah's tender care and
protection.  The house is not yet rented and
may possibly be left on our hands all winter,

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in which case James, or some one, would
have to be retained on the place for its
protection.  Just now, he is needed for the
purpose of hauling hay, but after a little
while his presence would be an unnecessary
expense, and I have requested Mr. Redin to
rent the house, if better cannot be done,
for a merely nominal sum to whoever some
one who would take good care of it.
Many persons have looked at the place,
all admire it and talk of "the Spring",
but seem to dread the winter.  Do not
let these things trouble you, dear Charlie--
You have care enough of your own, without
home anxieties.  These difficulties I have
a brave heart to bear.  I have suffered
keen self-reproach at having left home but
all that is over now--I could not have endured
this winter there, and it would have been wrong
to attempt it--I shall feel nearer to you in the West.
The children are well and send best love to you--I
fear my letters must weary you with their gloomy
details but I have nothing else just now. Continue
to write to me often and fully--you do more real
good in that way, than either as surgeon or soldier.
I must write by this mail, if possible in answer
to two anxious, tender letters from Uncle Alfred--
Always your loving sister--Mary Ellet

[in left hand, top, and right  margin of page 1]
I do not know where Minnie Carrington lives--somewhere on or near
Red River--The gentleman whose estate you ravaged is a connection
of her's but not kin
to us--will it
be needless to allude
to his circumstance.
These lad adventures
of yours alarm me
most--some harm
might so easily
come to you while
wandering about
these plantation
and houses--
    When we meet
again how
much we will
have to talk
over--I long
to see you--
Good Night-
Take care of
yourself in
every way for our sake--
To-morrow is dear little Nina's 13th birthday.

Mary Virginia Ellet Cabell, 1839-1930, and her siblings were orphaned when their father, the noted engineer Charles Ellet, Jr., was mortally wounded on the Queen of the West in the naval battle for Memphis, and their mother died a few days later.  Her brother Charles "Charlie" Rivers Ellet was a medical student who rose to colonel in the Union Army and in turn commanded Queen of the West in the Vicksburg campaign.

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