December 7th, 1862

Loudon Valley, Dec 7th 1862

Dear loved Wife,

I received a letter from you last night written last Sunday.¹ It has got so it takes two weeks to get a letter to and from home, that is, it takes a week for it to get there and a week for one to get back, so you see we are about two weeks apart. I used to get letters in three or four days after they were written. You complain of not getting letters from me often, I have written twice a week except one week and then I was not in camp long enough to mail one but since then I have been in camp all the time and have written you two long letters a week which is about all I have time to write. I have five letters from others not answered because when I sit down to write I want to write to you. It is the greatest pleasure I have to sit down and write to you and not manna to the children of Israel was more sweet than your letters to me.

When I wrote my last letter I was not well and I can’t say that I am now but I am better with a fair prospect of soon being in perfect health for my appetite is getting good, in fact, I can eat a passover. We have a-plenty to eat now and that is good enough for a soldier. I have heard that certain persons that have visited us have told how well we live now. We live very well now but visitors are very apt to be mistaken for they come here and stay with the officers and (being generally men of influence) are treated to the best that can be had.

We have had some very rough weather night before last. The snow fell several inches deep and today it is awful cold. The wind is howling around our hut and creeping in at the cracks, an unwelcome visitor. I can tell you the water freezes in our canteens within six feet of the fire. I tell you what, this weather takes all of the poetry out of laying outdoors and I am thankful that we have shelter, poor as it is, it is protection.

You need not think that I am sick if you don’t hear from me for if I am sick I shall write the more. If too sick to write myself I will get someone to write for me. There is considerable sickness in the Regt. now and I am sorry to say in our Co. too, we have five men in the hospital, two from Hamden, Burton Bradley and Thos. Bailey. Burton is not very sick and we should not have put him in the hospital if we had had a good place to stay in but we wanted to fix our hut. It was very poor, nothing but logs rolled up with apertures between about 3 inches wide and no roof, but we have chinked up the cracks and covered the top with canvas so it is comparatively comfortable. We have a fireplace in one end but the draft is the wrong way, the wind blows the smoke and ashes into our faces most beautifully but we laugh to see one another dodge. A soldier’s life is always gay.

You seem to think that flesh and blood cannot stand the exposure we been through, perhaps you think I have exaggerated in my letters to you but if I had been particular to note every little hardship you would have been still more astonished. We little know what we can stand ‘till we try it. I think it has done me good for my throat has not troubled me any lately and I have got rid of that hacking I used to have. The fact is you had been so careful of me that I was getting effeminate but now my natural strength is restored like Samson’s after his hair grew out. I join you in the wish that I might come home not to part with you again and I think I shall next spring if I last ‘till that time.

I am very anxious to see you again and what you write about Papa’s little Lela makes me homesick. I need not tell you to take good care of the little precious for I know you will. The winter campaign don’t look so tedious to me now (I have a place to stay in) as it did a week ago.

I am glad to hear from my old friend Thorne and I hope he will be in earnest in whatever he professes and I think he will. I like to see a man that is not afraid to show his colors.

You think I can tell you just how much to feed Fanny², but I can’t. I don’t think from what you say you feed her any too much. I used to think she did better not to eat her feed but perhaps she has learned to eat better than she used to but I don’t believe she will when it gets so cold as to freeze the water that you wet it with, and it would freeze as fast as you could put it on if it is as cold there as it is here. The best way to you to do is to mix up her meal in a pan and give it to her at noon and give her a small fork full of hay night and morning and some stalks at noon, all she will eat clean and you will find that she won’t sweet so easy. I hate to think of your cleaning out stables and I wish you would quit it. You can let it go as I used to and when it gets too full big John will clean it and for 25 cents.

You speak of coming here to take care of me if I were sick, I hope it won’t be necessary but I presume I should be just selfish enough to want you to come if I should be very sick. You could get here if you were used to traveling. Mrs. is coming here tomorrow. I believe Boss Ed writes that if any of us are sick he will see our wives or mothers safe here. He mentions me in particular, so if you come you had better accept his services.

You may send me any [news]paper you choose, they will be acceptable. I have not had but one paper, expect what came in the box. I wish you would send me a little vial of dysentery drops and some of Jacob’s pills, they are useful to others as well as me. Joel and Brainard are both out of sorts a little but I hope are not going to be sick.

I cannot share your fears about our army, if we are allowed to meet them we shall conquer them. I see the Esq. has found that he did not know it all in regards to the bounties³, it is just as I told you. I must now close for want of time and space. I think I have answered all your questions, give my love to mother and all other friends. God bless you, goodnight.

Cecil

P.S. I think it was Friday the 28th day of Jan. 1861 that Chas. Dickerman had Dolly and I think Thom. Collett had her but I can’t tell either for certain. Yours with much love and many kisses, C.B.