.NjYx.ODI5

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Chaffin’s Bluff Batteries, December 3d, 1862

My dear Wife: -

Yours of Nov[ember] 25th, was received this morning as the first I have received for a week. I am sorry, darling, to hear that you have been unwell, but hope, as you were getting better when you wrote, that you are entirely well now. We (you & the children & I have been blessed with health since we have been separated; while all around us there has been sickness, and death. And I am so sorry, darling, that I have written anything in any of my letters to give you uneasiness, or anxiety, or concern about me, and my situation here. All that you wrote about my getting a substitute was what I was glad to read from you – it made me think more highly of you & love you better (if that was possible) – and it encouraged me to do what I thought & felt was right, but which, otherwise, I would have hardly had the moral courage, under the cir-

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cumstances, to do. You know me well e- nough to know that I am frequently much discouraged by trifles, and such letters of love & encouragement as you wrote me, & frequently write me, always do me great good. You need never fear to express your opinions fully [underscored], especially when I ask you for them, as I have learned to put more confidence in them[struck-through] yours, than in those of anyone to whom I ever go for advice. In saying this I speak candidly what I feel & know. My own conscience had already condemned me for write such miserably melancholy letters, as I have been writing. Always when I ask for your advice or opinion about anything, I wish you to give it freely & fully. I had noticed, & it had troubled me, that about somethings[‘about somethings’ struck-through] you had hesitated, & frequently failed entirely to express any opin- ion about things which concerned not only me, but both of us, deeply. I learn from your letter to-day, what I had suspected

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for several weeks, that you had given up all idea of coming down to see me. This, as much as any thing else had con- tributed to make me low-spirited. I had been so much elated with the idea of seeing you, & having you near me, that when I, slowly & gradually & unwillingly, be- came convicted that you were not coming, even though I thought you acted right, I couldn’t help being low-spirited, much more than I had ever been before. Oh, darling, it has been a long [underscored] disappointment to me; but now, that I know [underscored] you are not coming, I feel better about it. I had gone so far at one time as to speak for a [board?] for you at the same house with Col[onel] Goode’s wife, thinking as you knew her it would be more pleasant for you. But in this, as well as in every thing else, I think you have acted right, and I do not complain. Please don’t feel badly any more about any advice you have or may give me – I don’t like the idea

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of being forced to stop consulting you, for fear that you will feel badly when I see fit to follow, or in other words to agree [underscored] with, your advice. More than this, I think it is your duty [‘your duty’ underscored] to vol- unteer [‘volunteer’ underscored] your advice & opinion at any & all [underscored] times. If you [underscored] hav’n’t this right & duty [underscored] I don’t know who has. I told you in my last, that we had re- ceived our boxes, & have enjoyed them much more than any which have before been sent us. My flannels are de- lightful. Our quarters are, as you said, much more comfortable than any other soldiers (except heavy artillerists) are enjoying. You will probably be surprised to hear that even now, some of this com- pany [‘this company’ underscored] are barefooted, and more surprised to learn that one of our mess [‘our mess’ underscored] (Perkins, the man for whom I wrote for socks) had been barefooted for two months, & is now sick from exposure while barefooted. He is barefooted now for want of shoes. From

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5. the amount of Jackets & Pants which has been distributed to our company this week, I hope the army must now be well supplied with clothing, and the instances like the one I have just mentioned are accidental and rare. I have drawn a p[ai]r pants & jacket of first rate mate- rial – the pants like the negro cloth you make, dyed gray, - and the jacket, [really?] a beautiful gray jacket of nice material. I drew these because the government were giving [underscored] them to the soldiers. I intend having the military coat I brought from home [trimmed?], & it will be as nice & good as ever. I have now an abundance of clothes of all kind’s except a p[ai]r of boots, which I will need as soon as I can get them. From your descriptions of Charley & Minnie I will expect to find them far superior to all other children in every respect; but I think you are a little partial to Minnie as she does more smart [underscored] things. Though, Aunt Betsey says she doesn’t owe it to you.

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Dr. Flournoy left us this morning for home on a 30 days furlough – he has been suffering a great deal with asthma, and could, I think, easily get a dis- charge, but he says he will stick to our mess as long as he can. He was very much interested in getting me a furlough, & told Maj[or] Bagley that if the authorities didn’t give me one, I would leave the service for good & thus the company & service would lose a soldier; & he had better stir himself & get me off home for a month or so. But Maj[or] B[agley] cant do any more than has been done for me, and I look forward now to next spring as the time when I will come home, and then [underscored] by being out of the service, as I have fully made up my mind to this. Our comp[an]y has been busy for several days throwing up the streets of our encampment, & paving them with round stones & sand; so that we will have less mud – it will add

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very much to the comforts of our camp. We have to bring the stones for some distances in bags, as the wagon has been too busy to haul them. The name of our new Capt[ain] is A. F. Bagley, and is in many respects better than old Razor-blade (our former Capt[ain] Bagley) though he is not a pious man, and is too childish, and lacks firmness too much for a real good officer. We are having a series of prayer meetings in the Capt[ain]’s tent this week – every night prayer meeting, or a short sermon. I have not attended them all, - one night I had a little unfinished business for the court martial, and to-night, I must stay-away to have a quiet talk with you, as when all of the boys are talking around me, I find it sometimes impossible to write, or if I do write, I don’t enjoy it at all. Do you enjoy writing to me, precious? – Next to getting a letter from you, there is nothing which gives me as much real

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pleasure as writing one to you. I feel like I was actually, sometimes, sitting by & talking to you. If you think this letter of yours is silly, & wish me to burn it; what will you & what do you think of some of mine. What do you think of my last. I hope you do not show them; as, if you [underscored] do not, others may or will think some of mine supremely silly. I expect- ed to hear in your next that your Pa had sold my tobacco, as I consider the prices offered for it as [struck-through] very fine. If I can spare any horses, or [?], or sheep I think it would be well to sell them this winter – if you can sell any wool it is selling now from $1.50 to $2.50 a pound. What have your Pa & Tom C[arrington]. done or have they done any thing, about my land? I feel so anxious to pay off my debts now while every thing is selling so high. If you make more butter than you or your Ma will want, save it all for me, as it helps more than any thing

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you can send. We will begin to-night to commence our regular course of his- tory – will spend one hour every night just after roll-call, which is at 8 o,clock, in reading, & guestioning, and talking about the history of the United States, beginning with the discovery of America. Such catch-times as we will have during the day will be spent in miscellaneous reading; but everything will be made to give way to History from 8 to 9 o,clock at night. I hope very much that we will have permanence enough to continue this all winter. I frequently think, when talking & thinking about this, of the pleasant times I used to have at our dear home, during the winter nights teaching Mildred & Lou. I didn’t know then how happy I was, and how highly blessed I was. “Blessings brighten as they take their flight.” I pray that we may be spared to spend such nights again around our

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dear home-fire, teaching Charley & Minnie. It always gave me so much pleasure to watch after children, I have frequently thought it would give me much more to teach my own, to begin with them while young and teach them from the first my own way. I think Charley is fully old enough to begin with now, and think you ought to spend a short time with him every day, making [underscored] it, for it can be made, interesting to him All the talk about children beginning too young is humbug. I feel like writing on till I finish this sheet, but fear my letters will be too long, & may not interest you. I could fill it up with telling you how much I love you, even though you know it so well. But you don’t [underscored] know how much [‘how much’ underscored] -I cant tell you how much, & if I did you wouldn’t know then. It is enough for you to know that I love you better than I do my own life, & my own happiness. I am afraid I love you too [underscored] much – God bless my precious love – Y[ou]r husband – N[athaniel] V. W[atkins]

[Marginalia – Page 9 ] Much love to all at y[ou]r Pa’s – to all at home – and to the neighbors.