1863june242

1863 June 24

 

Thunderbolt Battery

June 24, 1863

Mrs. Nancy J. Harden

Dear companion,

It is with much pleasure that I seat myself to drop you a few lines which will inform you that I am well and doing tolerable I reckon, although I am weak yet.  I hope these lines may reach and find you well, also all the rest of the family.

I know that you are uneasy about me, and I write these lines to relieve you.  I have had a tight spell for four or five days, but I am well.  I am very weak, yet.

I am going to resume my duty again tomorrow if I do as well as I have today.  I think it was the jaundice that I had.  I also had a slight touch of pains in my left leg but they have left and my leg is nearly well.

I thought I would get a furlough, but there was too many ahead of me.  My time will come after awhile.

The Yanks are getting very saucy about here.  They came in sight yesterday and stayed two hours, during which time they threw shells on Skidaway, Wilmington, and Whitmarsh Islands, but nobody was hurt.  We expect a demonstration here soon – that boat just came up to look.  You need not be surprised if you hear a fuss here before long.

There is not so many sick now as there was sometime ago, but there is some sickness yet.

I want to come home in fruit time, if I can get the chance.  We get no fruit here, only at high prices and I do not like to buy from these speculators.

June 25, 1863

As I may get a chance to send this letter to Milner by hand, I will finish.  I reckon I will get one from home in a few days.

I am still mending.  I was discharged from the hospital today but I will not have to do duty in three or four days yet, as I am weak yet.  I do not know of anything to write.  I want you to write all the news and everything of interest that turns up.

I want you to send word to Milner for the Postmaster not to send your letters by John Russell – that is, if you think proper – for I have no confidence in him.  This is the fourth letter I have written to you within the last 10 or 12 days.

I would be glad if I could state to you when I am coming home, but I cannot.  Tell Aunt Tabby that I cannot cut my foot to come.  If I can’t get home honorable, I will not come at all; and if I wanted to, there is no ax here that is sharp enough to cut my foot.

So, I will close.  Give my respects to all the family, etc.

Good-bye.

W. H. Harden

Write soon.