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Chaffin’s Bluff Batteries, March 31st, 1863

My precious wife: - Sam Graham came yester- day about 8 o.c[lock] just in time to prevent being reported as “absent without leave.” He brought a good long, cheerful letter from you. A short time afterwards the mail came with an- other, written March 25th, and one from Pattie & Sis[ter] Sue, which I will send in this. I am curled up again this cold, dismal, last day of March, in my accustomed place, by our little window, to thank you, Precious, for those good cheerful letters; and to tell you again for the hundredth time that you are the dearest, best wife on earth, and that “I do [underscored] love you, Darling, and you do indeed [‘do indeed’ underscored] make me very happy.” But the intelligence your letter brought, that Martha had the dip[h]theria, & the later news brought by Sam Graham that be- fore he left she had died & there were other ca- ses among the little negroes, have made me very uneasy about our dear little ones. You speak of being so thankful every morning when you wake & find them well – how much more thankful must I feel, when every three or four days I can get a letter saying it left them & you well a few days ago; for I cant see [‘cant see’ underscored] every morning that they are well. But I do try to trust you & them to God, & to feel that He is taking care of you – and even if I was with you all the time I [underscored] couldn’t protect you from any harm. I sometimes think that, while away from you as I am now, in the discharge of a duty so disagreeable & pain- ful, God watches over me and mine more tenderly and carefully, than if I was at Home conscientiously discharging with you the easy & pleasant duties of our every day life. I said I sometimes think as – I ought to have said, I frequently feel this to be a fact. It does ap- pear then that we ought always to be cheerful & happy; and I do believe it is our duty always to be – to “rejoice evermore” – but, oh, how sadly do we in this, as well as in everything else, fall far short of our duty. Sam’s report that I am, the most “Home-sick” man in camp wasn’t strictly true – for though I do always long for the love & quiet and peaceful enjoyment of Home and my little family, and am frequently really home-sick, I am, generally, I believe, as con- tented and well satisfied as a man ought to be or can be in such a place. And if I do speak of you all, and wish to be with you all, [rather?] oftener than others do of their friends, it is, I

[Marginalia] I send Pat’s & Sue’s letters – though I suppose you have had all the news in them.

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suppose, only because I think of you and love you so much – too much, maybe, for my own good: - however I wouldn’t have it otherwise. And now, Darling, about the request you made of me so hesitatingly and with such an apology in your first letter – I mean about never touching anything to drink, except simply [underscored] as a medicine. [underscored] As you said, my own judge ment does decide with you, and while I will not pledge myself, for I have long ago deter- mined never to pledge myself on this or on the use of tobacco, I have fully determin- ed not to touch while in the army except strictly as a medicine. If there were not other things to induce me to make this determina- tion, things which have happened since I have returned to camp; your wish simply, and especially the assurance that it would make you feel more comfortable and better satis- ficed, would be enough to cause me to make

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this [struck-through] ^ determination [struck-through]. So, Darling, I hope you will not let this disturb you for a single moment again. I am glad you mentioned this, & dont think it at all strange that you have felt as you did about it. – And now I will make no apology for mentioning a little fault which I noticed in you, and making a request of you. I had noticed it before, but you talked with me about it while we were together last, and mentioned it again in one of your letters. It is the disposition you have, to underrate yourself, and to be dis- couraged about yourself, and especially to catch at and treasure up little remarks which may fall from others, & think about them afterwards in such a manner as to encour- age this feeling. You know you told me of some little remarks your Ma & Sis[ter] M[artha] had made, and told me how dissatisfied they had made you with yourself. This is the fault, & the request I have to make is, that you will strive against this feeling. It does no good to encourage [underscored] it, and only tends to make you unhappy: and most frequently you entirely misinterpret the remarks you think of so frequently. And even if it is all true, just as you encourage yourself to believe it – which I deny [‘which I deny’ underscored] – this is no reason why you should be so unhappy about it & despond so much; - but just cheerfully set yourself to work to correct what you try to think a fault in yourself. And always remember, Precious, that you are just what I would have you be – and if you were different, I would not love you so much. –

[Marginalia] Will write to the girls as soon as I get their letters – will write to Sis[ter] Sue tomorrow.

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(Evening) I stopped writing this morning to read the papers which had just come, and then to eat dinner. The papers contained not one particle of news; but extracts from some of the northern papers which seem to indicate despondency, if they ever mean anything. I also bought a copy of the [Southern Illustrated] “news” which I will send Charley. The illustrated article “I have seen Dixie” is a pretty good account o f the inconveniences of traveling now, and worth reading. Our dinner consisted of corn bread, boiled rice, and confederate meat fried. I ate cornbread & rice -never touch the meat – and feel now much better than if I had eaten one of Sister Martha’s good dinners and finished off with three slices of that good molasses pie. My breakfast & supper are usually two biscuits – nothing more or less. We do not complain while we can get enough of this, and Henry always makes our allowance hold out. A good many messes manage so badly they are out of this far[e] & have absolutely nothing for one or two days out of every ten. Our com- missary will begin to-morrow, on this account, issuing rations every day, [‘every day’ underscored] just as we do to our negroes, instead of every ten days as before. We are looking now daily for the arrival of the boxes which Aunt Mary Booker & Geo[rge] Tamy have sent – they will no doubt come soon. Perkins came down from the wagon yard a few evenings since and, to [?] the boys, reported that the boxes had come & were brought down. Tom Scott went to the Capt[ain], borrowed our com- pany wagon, & was just starting off, having hitched up the mules, when some of us who understood Perkins better than he did, hinted to him that it was all a hoax. You will see from Sis[ter] Sue’s letter she has given me free latitude to call on her, and as soon as the boxes which you are getting ready give out, I shall write her a very affectionate letter, & shall wind up with a gentle hint easily understood. Be sure and send my “Chess Book” in the box, and my straw hat with two others about the same size, as I learn you can get them already made at Cousin Abram’s. Tell Cousin Bella V. that Dr. [Searbring?] (now Surgeon of our post) expressed many regrets, when some of the boys told him of the report about Taylor Martin – He met with her at Oxford some time since, and says he has been trying to see her ever since, but couldn’t get off. He seems to be a right nice fellow, & is I think a good physician. He frequently sits an hour or so with us on his rounds of visits. I hope very much old Doc will be down soon – as the application for his transfer has been made.

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The weather continues so bad and the ground has been so wet, and because we have no seed, there has been no move as yet towards our company garden; but I fixed a box yesterday to sow some tomato-seed, & will sow them this evening or to- morrow. I heard that Col[one] Maury has succeeded in getting about 30 bushels of irish potatoes for our gardens. It will be a great thing if we can raise even a few vegetables of any description, and if we even get our garden going, I in- tend to give you a [race.?] When the summer comes, owing to the distance, and hot weather, it will be almost impossible for us to get things from home – especially such things as we will need most. Here, while I think of it, I may need, as the summer comes on, one or two pairs of home-spun pants – can you have them for me? Ask sister M[artha] & Mildred if neither of them succeeded in making Nat. F. promise to spend a portion of his next furlough in Granville? I think, with you, there are few such young men now. Did Jeremy Boyd visit Martha Morton? - I don’t think he can do anything there – he isn’t exactly the right sort of man for her. I am glad your Pa succeeded in getting Tom C[arrington] to enter the land be bought of me in his own name; and as soon as I hear that he has taken in Frank Redd’s bond, I will breath more freely than I have ever done, since bying [struck-through] buying my place. I fear our currency may depreciate so much Frank will refuse to re- ceive the money. If it hasn’t been done, my cow-skins ought to be sent immediately to the tan-yard. Answer the questions in my last letter about my farm. Have they divided off Smiley’s crop so that he will work to him- self? I hope now my shoots have come up, & with so many pigs, they will [s..?][struck-through] be able to make meat enough for home use. As there are now only 38 men to draw for furloughs I hope Daniel will get one next Monday, & then if Col[onel] M[aury] will allow it, I will probably come on the next one drawn by our mess, but it will be only for seven days, as long as Dan’s. I know you will mail a letter for me to day & as I have received all up to this time, I will probably get it about Friday or Saturday. Though uneasy, on account of the dip[h]theria, I feel cheerful & contented, and am as happy as I can well be when away from you. I value the complime[n]t you Ma paid me, fully as much as any I ever get from you: and know I deserve such praise in no way, but in loving you all too much. May God bless you precious & all whom we love – Yours – N[athaniel] V. W[atkins]

[Marginalia] Tell Charley & Minnie I am glad they send such messages about being “Sweet” & “pretty.”