Camp near Sharpsburg Oct.8.1862

 

My dear wife

            We are still here living a very uneventful life and growing daily more & more dirty.

 

            We have been here now nearly 20 days of the equinoctial season and have hardly seen any rain. The Potomac is low beyond the memory of the oldest inhabitant—wherever the troops move a cloud of dust veils them from sight—the days are exceedingly hot & many of the nights are uncomfortably summerlike. Occasionally there is a night cold enough to remind one of the real season of the year but no frost yet.

 

            The leaves are becoming dingy in the woods but there is no such brilliancy as should be making New England glow at this season of the year.

 

            What we are waiting for no one knows but I suspect that the rising of the Potomac will relieve us and move us toward Richmond somewhere. Burnside just below us has crossed the river and perhaps we may all go over one of these days. Did I tell you that I dined with Gen Morell ten days since? I did and had a very civilized dinner—I like him as a thorough gentleman but there is not much lightning in him.

 

            Today at 4 I dined with Gen Griffin and the table was resplendent in a table cloth or / rather a counterpane doing duty as a table cloth. Roast goose, stewed chicken, salt fish and 4 or 5 different kind of vegetables dazzled my eyes and pleased my palate. We had four Colonels at the wine & cigars.

 

            Gen Porter has his wife here & some other of the staff officers appear to be settling down to housekeeping in-tent-ly.

 

            I am not sorry to be out of scenes of blood shedding but this life is getting to be a serious bore. Most of my time is given up to getting proper food & clothing for the men and keeping them as clean as our wretched circumstances will permit, but yet much time hangs heavy on my hands. This I suppose is the essence of a soldiers life. At one time desperately long & hurried marches—hard fighting & very possible suffering & then listless laziness.

 

            D^r Ainsworth calls frequently. I have been to see him several times. He does not know Young but speaks of Ike Mattoon as a good fellow on the teams.

 

            One of my 1^st Sergeants is Ezra S. Farnsworth is any relation to Mr F. ask him—He comes from Newton.

 

            Hoyt is to go home on sick leave I hope. Moulton (Capt) has resigned, not yet accepted. 

 

I wish you could look in upon me from a clean place. Instead of having two tents to myself I have two boarders in mine—until today we have eaten our meals all seated on the ground or about a box and sitting on anything that offered. Today a saw horse table has been constructed by an enterprising carpenter.

 

[margin: drawing of table]

 

No chairs—My bed consists of four crotched sticks supporting some split rails [drawing of cot] upon these for a few nights past I have had cedar boughs laid over them a blanket and then the Colonel—then another blanket. My black valise is my pillow. Sometimes I take my boots off, but when I do I dream of home so that it wont do to repeat it often.

 

            A tin dish held by my stupid Jim composes my washing apparatus—a mirror I do not know when I see it. My impression is that I am getting fat, hairy and dirty but everybody is so too.

 

            You would not imagine Capt Cunningham to be the same man that was at Fort Warren. Two of my men have died in hospital since we have been here, but generally the health of the regiment improves. Write to me how your housekeeping works and tell me of Frank & Clara & the baby. / Give my dearest love to the children tell them to write. We have received no mail for four days, and I look for an avalanche when we do get one.

 

            Ask Mary Iddings to keep you advised of Henrys whereabouts, or if he is within hail of me I will see him & ask him to dinner which will be like leaving him a fortune at other times.

 

            I am well & hearty thank God anything but sickness will leave this service endurable.

 

            Good night sweet wife

                                                           

Fran^s J Parker

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