Huttonsville March 26^th 1862

 

            Another night has come dear wife and I again have the opportunity of having a little talk with you. How poor a substitute this letter writing is for personal intercourse. It is all however that is now possible, and it is wisdom on our part to enjoy all that we can, with thankful hearts. I wrote you some time since that when we left here even letter writing would be impossible, but in this I hope I have been mistaken, for all the regiments in advance of us send here regularly for their mails, and you may rest assured that whenever it is possible I will do the same. The three mail days are the bright ones of the week, and compensate us for many privations. Friends at home should write regularly, for in such a place as this anything that comes from that dear spot is doubly welcome. If you could see us / here today just as we are you would not grieve at the prospect of our moving to another camping ground. The day has been a gloomy one. Cold in the morning with the ground frozen during the night, so that every step my horse brakes through the upper crust with the deep mud below. About ten oclock the weather moderated and snow and rain mingled began to fall. Now at night the mud in camp is shoe top deep, and over. We had a visit from Dr Mead of the Sanitary Commission who once before visited our camp at Camp M^cLean. He is now visiting all the regiments in Western Virginia and will report upon their condition when he returns. We gave him his supper and treated him as politely as we knew how. He visited the tents of the men and seemed pleased with their appearance. He could not have come in a worse time, for the mud makes it impossible for the men to keep neat. I think / however he was satisfied with our condition and discipline. He has gone on to Cheat Mountain where the men have huts of logs. They ought to be cleaner and more comfortable than our men are in their tents, but I do not believe they are. In spite of the rain and mud our men tonight seem to be in excellent spirits. I hear their songs in the distance coming up from all directions in the camp. Soldiers are like children, their cares seem to leave them in camp, and they are not troubled about the events of tomorrow. They seem to throw all responsibility upon their officers, and take pleasure when they can in everything that passes. I cannot feel as they do. The responsibility weighs upon me and I fear lest at any time I may fail in some part of my duty. I try to imagine the regiment in situations of difficulty and danger, and contrive plans for their escape. I constantly / in my imagination and when drilling the regiment, defend against sudden attacks from every conceivable point and the men are now in such a condition that they readily & intelligently obey every order. I amaze them sometimes by an actual charge of bayonets of one half the regiment upon the half, stopping in the charge when they are just ready to cross bayonets. They get very much excited at this, and come upon the charge with such shouts as would do credit to wild indians. If they will only come forward in this way at a real charge, they will carry everything before them. I frequently also, when they are marching along in column, call out to them that a squadron of cavalry is coming down upon them at a sweeping charge, and form them into squares to resist cavalry with great rapidity. In this way I teach them and they seem to have learned more rapidly of late than heretofore. The battalion drill is not near so fatiguing as formerly, because the men understand the movements. 

 

Dear little Evy is I hope by this time almost if not quite entirely well. Her sickness caused me to be very unhappy until I received your letter on yesterday. Since then my apprehensions for her have in a great measure ceased, although I know that her disease is a most treacherous one, and that you are never out of danger until entirely well. I fear now that you may be made sick by the same disease, although I believe you have had it once before. Pray be very careful of yourself if you should have a sore throat, for you know I dread a cough for you very much. Tomorrow will be mail day again, and I shall hear from you. You say that you are impatient to hear from me and can therefore have an idea of my feelings now in waiting for your letters. I receive them with joy and open them with fear lest / they should contain bad news. We are alike in our regret. We are both bound fast, and cannot move and I think this makes it harder than if we were master of our own movements.

 

Your longings dear wife make me doubly anxious to see you. I can scarcely restrain my impatience when I sit quietly looking at your photograph and thinking of all the happiness I have left behind. Help me darling wife by being brave and resolute under our separation. You can uphold me by encouraging and cheering me on in the performance of my duty. Think of my return after I shall have had an opportunity of leading the regiment in action. I feel that we cannot fail under anything like a fair chance. Then our meeting will be full of joy and you will not regret that I have done my duty Farewell dear wife until my next letter. Love to Evy, Johny & all the family, with good night kisses for my darling wife

                                                                                                                       

N. C. M^cLean

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