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Camp near Chaf[f]in’s Bluff

My dear Precious July 16th 1862

As I said in my last, I wasn’t satisfied about my furlough until I had a conversation with Col[onel] Goode myself. He said to me, as to the Lieut[enant] that it would afford him great pleasure to give me one, but for the example of the thing. -And besides there had been an order that no more furloughs should be given. He offered me a pass to R[ich]mond that I might make application to the Secretary of War. Though thinking my chances ve- ry doubtful, I started to R[ich]mond after having walked four miles from off pickete [‘e’ struck-through], through the heat of the day. R[ich]mond is seven miles from our camp. After walking half–way to R[ichmond] I met a member of my company who told me that my pass wouldn’t protect me from an arrest in [R[ichmond] as a straggler, so I was obliged to come back. Oh, dar-

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ling, you dont know how my heart sunk when I turned my back on R[ichmond], for my camp again, and to feel that I would fail after having walked 11 miles, during one of the hottest days we have had. It wouldn’t have been so bad even then, if I had not found out that [Colonel] Goode had been trifling with me, & trying to make [struck-through] throw the responsibility of refusing me a furlough off of his shoul- ders. He [underscored] started yesterday, I under- stand, for a visit to Mecklenburg . I couldn’t even rest satisfied with this effort & wrote yesterday to Mr. Howison re- questing him to act for [him][struck-through] me & state my case to the Sec[retary] of War, but will not hear from him for several days. I know not what the result will be, but we will pray & hope, Precious, that before very long we may be permitted to live together again in peach & happiness. Sam Grah[a]m got a letter from Aunt Judy yesterday, stating that

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a good many young men from the neigh- borhood had gotten substitutes and came home and offering to send him one if he wished it. Sam, I believe, wont have one, - but if you had made me the offer, I think just now, that without hesitation I would accept it. It seems for [overwritten] to be the impres- sion that there will be no more fighting on this side of R[ichmond] for some time, but that [Union General] McClellan will make one more desperate effort to take the city before giving it up, either up the James River, or from Freder- icksburg – or that he will attempt to cut us off at Petersburg from our supplies & starve us out of R[ichmond], or into a disadvantageous fight. The eight days fighting around R[ichmond], has

                                                      undoubt-

encouraged our troops very much & necessa-[struck-through]

 edly

rily [struck-through] demoralized the Yankee troops much more. And now instead of the oft repeated prediction heard through our whole [lines?] constantly, “that McC[lellan] would have R[ichmond] in a few days,” we now [struck-through] hear the same men saying “that he

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cant get it & shall not have it!” for [struck-through] We are slowly strengthening the defences a- round Chaf[f]ins Bluff, our Brigade, of three Reg[imen]ts & one Artillery Battalion, has thrown up two Redouts, & is now cutting rifle pits, and ditches across the bluffs comm- anding the land approaches to Chaf[f]ins B[luff]. I have been in the ditch two hours this morning & will be in again for two hours this evening. It isn’t hard work but very hot, and a soldier soon learns how to be [?] [servant?], and rest about as much as work. It is lighter duty than standing guard, as we are never exposed to rain, and have always a good nights rest. Ditching & marching & drilling has made my flesh firmer & harder that it ever was & I am burnt so black, I hardly think you would own me. It is also fine exercise for the chest & lungs, and a small army with kind officers would [struck-through] is a splendid [gymnasium?] for young men & invalids.

[Marginalia]

Much love to all

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Thursday morning July 17th – I was un- able to finish my letter yesterday & will write a little this morning before the mail goes. If Dan[iel] Booker hasn’t star- ted before getting this please get him to bring my straw hat, if he can do it conveniently & without any dan- ger of losing it. We are near a field of wheat, & the men here made them several hats like mine -they are much more comfortable than any others. We learnt yesterday [of?] the death of another one of our wounded men, a nice boy of 18, named [Dobbins?] – making 11 of our men killed at “Seven Pines” Also of the death of another member Foun- taine Carleton, a fine little fellow of 17 you was sent from camp two weeks since with typhoid fever. His brother Ben, about two years older was badly wounded at “Seven Pines,” but is

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now nearly well. This is the first death from sickness in our company since I joined it, while several companies in our reg[imen]t have been losing a good ma- ney . I have always neglected to say that I wish Nelley & the Big colt worked as little as possible. If [?] [?] he will work the Big colt down be fore any one knows it. I want all of my colts kept fat, & [curried?] occasionally. Make Charley write to me about my little [?]. I would give anything, Dear wife, or make any effort to come to you. I often feel that I cant stand the separation much longer – but when I am kept busy, and feel that I am profitably engaged, I mind it much less. No one but our kind Heavenly Father knows how much longer this is to last, & when it is for our good that it shall stop. He will end it in his own way. Many we turst Him & may He continue to watch over us & our dear ones. Y[ou]r devoted husband N[athaniel] V. W[atkins]