Camp Wappoo 26 Vol Rgt Nov. 1st 1863
My Dearest Wife
Mr Padgett has arrived in camp bringing me letters from home and the gratifying intelligence of your save arrival over this side of Jordan and the advent of another little stranger to recruit the future army of our country. You have no idea how much of anxiety I have felt for your safety now so much relieved. neither your letter or mother’s gave information and must have been written prior to the event. I anxiously await a letter from home one from your mother would be gratifying, if she will do me the favor Brother Jeremy has come. his arrival has no doubt been cause of great rejoicing. I should like very much to see him. If we could have remained at Burton’s I should now be at home on furlough. how unfortunate!—Another little boy. look’s I suppose just like his dady, if he looks at all. I suppose you busy yourself now about naming him. name him anything you chose except John I do not mean to be called “old John”—I should like him called after Bruce Fauntlery—dropping the Robert which I dont like—or call him Hugh—in fact dear wife whatever name suits you will suit me unless you should select some odd tittle such as Ichabod et id omne genus /
I can almost fancy myself with you I almost see you and our little fellow sleeping quietly in your arms, a fat chubby little fellow and you a little pale but sweet as ever and as lovely as you were when in the first bloom of womanhood when you gave yourself to me—“Old Mistress delighted. moving about and constantly looking after the little one now and then, keeping things quiet and having the curtains well closed to shut out the light—I am glad she is with you and know you are so much better satisfied—send the children to the house and keep them there as much as possible. Grace especially is too large now to play with the little negroes and should have some about who can amuse and entertain her. Fannie & Carrie can be very useful to her. I do not expect you to write for some weeks and you should be extremely careful not to expose yourself unnecessarily and at the same time avoid too much care—either will retard your recovery—Away down here in Dixie, I can only advise you—but you are in good quarters and must do as you think best. I have a letter from mother which I will answer as soon as I can get some paper from Charleston—this is all I have. I sent you some postage stamps give some to mother if she needs them or keep them if she does not want them /
We are very quiet in camp. no chance of our getting into a fight. Are going into winter Qrs in a few days.—Had a general Review of troops last Friday by Genl. Beauregard. He is a remarkably fine looking man—every inch a soldier—after passing in review had brigade drill confound Page—day is warm as august tired and hungry—must show himself and how well we could do the movements after nearly four hours we were kindly let of. Gel B. being highly gratified &c—finest looking troops &c—Capt F. is well and in camp but not on duty as yet—I suppose you have had the history of his difficulties from his wife—but notwithstanding all Page can do I do not think he can keep him from the majority. He has right and the law both on his side and has been very badly treated. But one thing now occurs to me. I mentioned it to you at Choffin’s. I do not wish to interfere with your frienships—but think it would be well for you not to be too communicative, as some persons are themselves so entirely engrossed with their own selfishness and only esteem as friends those whose aid or convenience make necessary for their own purposes, and would entirely abandon you if you were left in any extremity. You have had samples of her conduct and I do not admire her, as she lacks that great and vital point of a virtuous character—truth—as an acquaintance / we are compelled to associate with many persons this by custom of society—but bosom friends are of our own selection and should be of a character that we should be loth to part with them or in any way forfeit their regard. You know to whom I allude—and hope you will act as becomes your station in this matter. I love and esteem my wife and I give this to save her many disagreable things that may happen if she does not avail herself of this caution. And now this matter ends with me forever—Grace, you write, is growing rapidly and is very bright—impress her with a love for God little children never forget the teachings of a mother they recur to us, most wicked men and we never fail to be respectful, though wanting in the most esential point of a Christian. But my own hardness of heart must not militate against the spiritual welfare of my children—the must gather precepts of instruction from the example of their mother. My love, to all, Pa’s love to his darling daughter Grace, away down south in Dixie, he hopes she will always be a good girl and never tell a story if she does Pa wont lover her—nor the good Lord who hates all liars and will punish them while all good children go to heaven and are happy evermore. I am glad to hear of Charly’s improvement he will gradually gain his strength—the “boy” is I hope doing well and his mother too—I expect you have written to me and hope some news will reach me ere this is rec’d. Tell Bro. James not to connect himself with the army, until he is compelled and then consult his brothers first. I want him to write to me and give me news—especially of John & Frank—is he going to remain or does he intend returning if the latter I should like to write by him—Can he come to Charleston if so—it will be necessary for him to /
[front margin, side] get a pass from Gel Beauregard & Mayor of Charleston—Bro Charlie has ague & fever—is in Charleston at present—caught from sleeping on the wet ground we are going into winter Qrs and will be better fixed than now—
[second page, back margin] Love to Dear Mother & all Brother Charlie is not much sick he was at the Charleston hotel yesterday and is walking about [to front margin, top] town will return to camp in a few days—he has I suppose written—
[second page, front margin] with love and a kiss for My dearest wife
I am as ever her loving husband J.