.Njcw.ODc5

[1]

Chaffin’s Bluff Batteries Feb[ruar]y 22d, 1863

My dear Wife: -

Another terrible day – snow this morning five or six inches deep, and no cessation till this evening. The sun now breaking out beautifully, but the weath- er very windy and cold, with a deep snow on the ground. It has been a very uncom- fortable and unsatisfactory Sunday to me, and I will now try and forget myself for a short time in writing to my precious one. Our house is covered badly with [slats?], and so any drifting snow or rain drives in enough to make the floor wet or muddy, & to make it almost necessary sometimes for us to wear an overcoat. This morning the snow was heaped around on everything which rested against the north side of the house – on books, clothes, the heads of some of the bunks, all around on the back of our chim- ney & the sides of the fire-place; and the wind constantly puffing down the chimney made it almost impossible for us to keep our eyes open long enough to read a page, so dense was the smoke. To add to my dis- comforts, all of the mess have been kept closely housed by the bad weather, and to amuse themselves, have been joking Tom [Tamy?] (who still is waiting for his discharge) very roughly & unmercifully. Poor Tom, al- though a nice gentleman, is sadly lacking somewhere, and is almost as great a bore sometimes as Joe Pea, & the boys sometimes almost worry him to distinction. I feel sorry for him & take up for him, but cant help laughing with them & being bored with him. I have been thinking a great deal of things at Home – of the sheep & stock of all kinds, -& know how much they will suffer with no one to provide for them but Smiley & the Negroes. But more than all I have thought of the sufferings of the poor soldiers in [General Robert E.] Lee’s Army – and thought how many of them would think this old leaky, wet, smoky cabin of ours, as sung & warm & comfortable, as I would the warm, little nursery at your Pa’s. I didn’t mean by what I said about our cabin to complain – for few soldiers are more comfortably fixed than we are – and I feel truly thankful that we have such quarters.

[2]

A large portion of our army is now moving from its position around Fredericksburg, & going to some points south of Richmond – where no one knows but the authorities. [General George] Pickett’s division was yesterday on the march from R[ich]mond towards Petersburg down the turnpike which passes a- bout a mile back of Drury’s Bluff. Sam G. Tom Wat. & one or two other boys went over to see their friends – they saw Morton [Ev...?], Jacob Morton, Morton [Flouney?], Geo[rge] Finley, the Clarksville Blues, Little Billy Morton, & num- bers of friends & acquaintances besides. There were about eighten [‘en’ struck-through] or ten thousand troops on the march, & others ([General John B.] Hood’s division) was said to be passing through Richmond. The boys said they were well shod, and though dirty and ragged, seemed to be pretty well clothed and in fine spirits. They have but few tents, and I cant, for the life of me, understand how thousands of men can live out of doors during such a spell as we are now having, and a great many of them not freeze to death. Here, situated as we are, we do not begin to know the hard- ships of a soldiers life. Tis true, when our [?] from home gives out, the fare is as hard as elsewhere, and we as others [‘as others and’ struck-through] feel as keenly the separation from our [?] as others do; but then we are spared all the exposure to the rains & snows and cold, & to the [breaking?] up, & marching & fighting which the other soldiers are exposed to. And yet, strange & unreasonable as it may seem our army is said to be now in better health, & in better spirits than it ever has been, & a majority of soldiers in Lee’s army would dislike to change places with us. The soldiers who have the easiest places & less to do are generally the greatest grumblers and fault-finders. I frequently think of this, and do verily believe that were it not for the [clear ties?] which bind me so closely to my Home, I could & would be as well sat- isfied here, as any where. We have no idea where the army is going but think either to Weldon, Wilmington or Charleston, - or maybe to Petersburg or [Suffolk?]. The enemy has cer- tainly given up all hopes of reaching R[ich]mond] by the Fredericksburg route. I think our prospects for peace are still brightening. If we can only foil them & [keep?] them back until the 1st of May (two months longer)

[3]

their army, by their own accounts will lose a- bout 300,000 men, by the expiration of their term of service. How these soldiers can be replaced, will be to them a difficult question; especially if their army meets with as little success as it has since the first of last spring. The discontent too which evidently does exist in the North-west will all this time be growing and spreading – and I cant help, when I think of all these things, hoping and believing that we shall soon have peace on our own terms. God grant that these hopes may not be disappointed. Oh, Darling, when I think of how happy we will then be at our Home again, I some- times fear that I am anticipating too much, and that something will happen to prevent all this – We had, as usual this morning, our bible class, and though attended by a very few, (about 10) it was a very pleasant hour. The chapter we had to-day was the 1st chapt[er] of Hebrews. There will also be to-night the usual pray-meeting. As Mr. Bagley hasn’t been with us for some time these are the only religious services we have in camp; but by going to some of the R[e]g[imen]ts in [General Henry Alexander] Wise’s Brigade, or to a church about three miles off we can always have a sermon – but on account of the small pox, I have avoided every place where I might be thrown with a large collection of soldiers. – I wrote to Mildred Friday about her taking a small school – She said in her letter to me that she was teach- ing [Many?] & that Mr. Harris wished her to teach his children, & that she had thought se- riously of teaching if she could get a few [scholars?]. I think it would be the best thing she could do, & would like so much to hear she had determined to do this. What do you think of it? It would do her more good than anything she could do – would be a fine training for her in every way. The time has come when the ladies of the South will have to do such things – will have to supply every place that was before the war filled by a Yankee lady. I think Mildred fully as capable of teaching as Miss Sarah was when she began and if she only had the confidence in herself & the experience that Miss Sarah has, just as competent as she was when she left your Pa’s. I dont mean by this that I think Mil-

[4]

dred ought to make a teacher of herself, (though I dont see why not this) but that she might teach [Many?] for some time, and in order to do this more effectually, she might take other little children from around, such as she could get. She might do a good deal of good this way to others, while receiving great good herself. If Johnny comes he might teach Goodie & Jas. Nat. If Mildred is in earnest you must encourage & assist her as much as possible; and if she is not, persuade her to be in earnest; and to begin with a good resolution. Also encourage her & Sue (and assist them) in their read- ing, & prevail on them to write as much & as carefully as possible. I frequently think Darling, that I would like it so much if I could get your good letters oftener. I have had now only one for more than a week. I walked all the way to the Bluff yesterday evening, so sure was I that there was a letter there for me, which had been overlooked; but there was none. It always makes me feel low-spirited and impatient, & restless when the time comes for me to get a letter, & none comes. I know now that there are two letters on the way from you, - one written last Tuesday & one last Friday. I wish one could come every day. I know you would feel impatient if a whole week should pass with only one letter from me, or sometimes with none. Yet, Pre- cious, I dont mean to complain of you – when your letters do come they last me for sever- al days; and I know you do the best you can, & write as often as you can get a letter off – but I do wish it was three in- [‘in-‘struck-through] times instead of twice a week. I would be satisfied with this. Joe’s wife writes to him twice a week, and I know [underscored] I love mine more than he does his. ----- (Night) Cloudy a- gain & very cold. I think almost all the time of the thousands of men lying out, in the snow, not more than four miles from me. How much suffering there must be. Excuse this great blot on the second page – it was caused by my get- ting up to take sides with Tom [Tamy?] & I turned over the ink – tis’ too cold to copy off so much writing – Snow again is just re- ported by one of the boys. One week more, & spring will be here – may it come with soft weather, & bright prospects – May you all, Darling, keep well, & be always happy. Much love Y[ou]r devoted husband, N[athaniel] V. W[atkins]