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M[oun]t Pleasant July 7th 1862

My Dear Brother

Your last letter was received more than a week ago & I need not tell you that we were glad to get it. You don’t know how much good it does Ma to get letters from her boys & it does me great deal of good too. Your letter would have been answered before but I was again at Brother Wills helping to nurse poor little Mildred. She died last Saturday morning about sun rise being just 9 year & one month old. She had dip[h] theria & it settled on her lungs. She was sick 2 months

              suffered

& I never saw such suffering as she ^ for the last fortnight. I don’t know how to begin to describe it to you. She was very sick for about four weeks & then got better & they had strong hopes of her recovery for two weeks when she was taken worse & they sent for [ms?]. I went & after a few days [s]he?] went up & we both staid until she was buried her. Mr. [Wharey?] preached her funeral for “O death where is thy sting O grave where is thy victory the sting of death is sin & the strength of sin is the law but thanks be unto God who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” It was an excellent sermon, Mildred was a great sufferer but was never delirious & was perfectly aware of her situation. Just one week before she died she was very sick & the D[octo]r came (Dr. Flournoy) & gave her some medicine in swallowing it she came very near being suffocated she turned to her Mother & spoke to her & said I can’t breathe I cant breathe. She spoke only in a whisper a few minutes after the Dr. told me that she was dying after we left the room she said Ma I was saying Save me Save me all the time I was so sick. Sister Kate asked her

[Marginalia]

and I don’t know the names of all. Goodie Lyon has died at home from typhoid fever & a [?] [her?] with who was engaged to [Mary?] [Lyon?] Ma is as well as usual spits a little blood occasionally Sister [L..?] & Mr. Kedd & the children are well. [Franke?] [Gro...s?] feet hasn’t recovered entirely from the measles. Sister Kate seems almost crushed at the loss of Mildred Mr. Kedds crop is getting on very well I believe though the wheat crop in [this?] neighborhood is poor. [Ma?] didn’t get the letter you wrote her. Fannie [L...?] & Ma & Sister Sue send love to you all. Give my love to the boys I will write again soon Your own Loving Sister Pattie

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who she wanted to save her she said God & then said that she loved God & was not afraid to die. Sister Kate told her that she would be an angel & would see little Lily Redd she said yes & Aunt Susan Friend. That was Saturday & from that morning until the next Saturday she ate

  except a little ice

scarsely any thing ^ & hardly ever drank. Said frequent [l]y that she was going to die but suffered a great deal with pains all over her & with the greatest heat so that it required 4 of us to fan her almost all the time day & night. She was so weak & poor that she was a perfectly helpless as an infant & suffered with difficulty of breathing all the time. She required to be moved every few minutes but whispered to the last died in her mothers arms with out a struggle She had just asked for some [..dy?] & as her mother raised her & held the spoon to her mouth she found that she didn’t take any & looked at her & she was dead. It was a relief to us to know that the dear child was at rest. We came down yesterday to Briery where we found Fannie Watkins & Sue Daniel they came down with me & I am to go with them to morrow to make a visit to Cousin Margaret & to Cous in Frankie who lives now near Bethlehem but I shall try & come back before next Saturday & there will be communion there at Briery. Fannie says that your little Minnie is beautiful. Abe Daniel is at home right sick & the girls will go up next week to Aunt Fannie’s I should like to go on with them & then on with Fannie & them to Granville, but am afraid I can’t go now as I have staid so long at Brother Will’s. I haven’t seen Mollie but heard that she is well & was at church Sunday. Brother Dick wasn’t in that terrible battle, & we have heard that you were not. We dreaded to hear from you both there was such terrible loss of life in some companies from Charlotte & Prince Ed[ward]. Henry Daniel & Jimmie Womack are both at the point of death Daniel Spencer dreadfully wounded & so was Capt[ain] Wall. Mat Lyle John Harvey & Abram Carrington killed

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July 12th 1862

My dear Nannie Camp near Chaf[f]in’s Bluff

Yesterday was my day for writing to you, but it was a close rainy day which confined me & all my mess to a small tent, and there was too much noise & confusion around for me to write with any satisfaction And besides, as you had requested it, darling, I was making an effort for a short fur- lough, and as my feelings were so [deeply?] enlisted, couldn’t help hoping, even against hope, that I might [underscored] give you a joyful sur- prise next Tuesday evening instead of sending this letter. To give my application greater weight, I made it through one of my Lieu- tenants , he making the request as a favor to himself. Col[onel] Goode replied that he knew me and my family, and it would give him great pleasure to reply [struck-through] comply, but if he commenced giving furloughs, he would soon

[Envelope]

Mrs. Nannie v. Watkins (Care of Jas. b. Daniel) Townesville N[orth] C[arolina]

Send by Sass[afras] Fork mail

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be flooded with similar applications, & for this reason [‘for this reason’ underscored] he refused. For this reason [‘this reason’ underscored] for fear that our Col[onel] will be annoyed by applications for furloughs, I am kept here, when there is no need for me, deprived of the privilege of giving a few days atten- tion to my matters at home, and from en- joying a short visit to my wife & children, for whom my heart has been yearning every minute for the last three months. Oh, darling, it is hard – and though I am obliged to submit I can’t do it cheerfully. The same reasons will keep me in the army during the the whole war. I feel sorry now that I made the application. – I did cherish the hope before that in a short time, I would be permitted to see you, but now I dont know when the time will come. But I cant dispair yet, I will have a conversation with Col[onel] G[oode] myself before giving up all hope.

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Thank Charley for the flowers he sent me, but it [overwritten] I didn’t need anything to remind me of Home. I think of it too much now. Homesickness, is worse than typhoid fever, but they tell me that it hasn’t even] with Camp diet, reduced me any. I believe I am fatter & enjoy better health than I have during the last five summers. Sam & Doc too enjoy good health – in fact I think the health of our company & Reg[imen]t is improving - and though there has been a good many deaths during the last few weeks, the new cases of sickness are [?] [struck-through] fewer. I asked you in my last to send me $10. – I will have no need for it now as we have just been paid our bounty & you needn’t send it. Tell Daniel Booker I have a check on Richmond for his bounty ($50) & he needn’t bring much money with him. I will send the check to Mr. Howison by the first chance,

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so that he may find it in R[ich]mond, and draw the money as he comes through. I saw Tom Boyd in camp a few min- utes the other day, but had only a short conversation with him. He was on a visit to Col[onel] G[oode] and staid but a short time. a great many came to our camp to visit their friends & occasionally I see ladies pass. I always feel disappointed, though. I know they are strangers, to find that they are not from our neighborhood, & I have walked repeatedly some distance on seeing a carriage, hoping without being conscious of it hardly, that you had come to R[ich]mond, & I would find you on the carriage. If I cant come soon to you, darling, you must [underscored] come & bring the children to me, though this [will?] be nothing like, being all together at our dear happy home. As there will be no mail till Mon- day evening, I will write more tomorrow.

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Sunday Morning July 13th [1862]

A part of our company is on picket again to-day, & Doc & I with them. They waked us up this morning about 2 o.c[lock] & we had to march about four miles to our post. As there were to be no religious services in camp that I knew of, I [struck-through] it was a great rel- lief to go out into the country & spend the day on this quiet, beautiful farm, where I can be alone. [underscored] Oh! that I could be with you to-day at Shiloh – You have no idea how bad it is to be cut off entirely from all religious privileges. I received a letter from Pattie yesterday telling of the death of Bro[ther] Will’s little Mildred. I will enclose it in mine to you. You will see from it that Bro[ther] Dick is well & was not in the great battle. – Also that Abe Daniel is at home quite sick. Sam & I are the only ones of our little home squad who hav’n’t been home, but I cant help hoping that our

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time will come soon, especially as we have been uniformly punctual in all of our duties. I was glad you told me so much about my farm – and about Charley’s & Minnie’s little sayings. Pattie writes that Min- nie is beautiful – I feel as if I hardly know her. If there is an artist in Clarks- ville, cant you take Charlie & Minnie down & have your & their daguerreotypes taken and send them to me, either by Daniel B[ooker] or by mail. If you know how much pleasure it would believe me I know you would take the trouble. I must stop as I have other letters to write to-day. Give much love to all. May God give us patience Darling, and soon restore us to each other. Kiss Charlie & Minnie from me. Give my love to Capt[ain] B[askerville] if he is still at home. Dont expect to see me home yet, & dont set you heart too much on my getting a furlough. I know from experience how bad it is to be disappointed. Your devoted husband N[athianel] V. W[atkins]