1864 Aug 28
August 28, 1864
Dear and affectionate companion,
I seat myself this morning with pleasure to drop you a few lines which will inform you that I am well now, also the rest of the family. I truly hope when these lines comes to hand, they will find you well and doing well.
I received your kind letter dated the twenty-fourth instant, and was truly glad to hear from you, but sorry to hear you was sick. I hope you are better now.
I hope you will be treated well and get plenty to eat. I wish you could get a furlough to come home. I hope you will get to come soon.
I am sorry to hear you have got so far from home. I do hope you will be attended to well there, so you can get home soon. Keep in good heart.
I am sorry you can’t hear from home. I hope you have received my letters before now. I had written one while you was up here at the front and one while you stayed at Macon.
Mrs. Benson went down to Macon last Friday. She said she was going to see you if there was any chance. But you was gone. She wanted me to go with her. I wouldn’t have went and missed you there for nothing in the world.
We have very fine weather now, fair and pleasant. I have no news of any importance to write you this time. No war news, only we hear they keep fighting up here. I am glad you are out of it, so you do well which I hope and trust you will.
There is a great deal of sickness about here. Some with the fever and some the measles. They are in your Pa’s family. None of them has had them yet but Susan. I heard from there yesterday. She was getting along very well.
I was afraid me and Mollie would take them. We had as good a chance to take them as we ever will have. Susan was taken last Tuesday, was a week ago. Me and Mollie was there when she was taken and stayed until Friday evening. We slept with her and she had high fevers. I left there Friday. She broke out on Sunday morning. They did not know what was the matter with her until she broke out. I hope me and Mollie will escape this time.
It will soon be such a busy time pulling fodder. Pa began to pull fodder this morning.
Wash is still mending. He haven’t got his furlough, yet. I am afraid he will not get it. He is uneasy about it. He is not able to go back yet, if he can help himself.
Johnny and Archie Smith has got the measles. They have been very bad off, but was on the mend yesterday.
William Harris is at home now with them. He is most well. He was well enough to go to church yesterday.
Sarah and Mollie is well.
Sarah received a letter from Sammy some two or three days ago. He was not well – had the chronic diarrhea and was at the division hospital. Sarah and the old man Bankston is trying to get him in the hospital at Barnesville as a nurse.
Mr. O’rear is in the hospital at Milner, yet.
Mr. Benson is at home. Yet, he is trying to get his furlough extended.
We have a very good meeting going on up here at Friendship, now. Mr. Cooper had meeting Saturday and Saturday night, yesterday and last night, and again tonight. I think it is going to be an interesting meeting. There is a great many soldiers comes to hear Mr. Cooper preach. You ought to have been there last night to hear Ellen Harris holler. They have put off James Harris’ funeral until the first Sunday in October.
Susan Whidby and John Connel was married yesterday evening. Mr. Cooper married them in the road, sitting in the buggy. Her Ma nor sister never knew a word about it until last night, after they got to the meeting house.
Uncle Riley’s boys and all their company is up here. At the front, the boys was well the last time he heard from them.
Henry Cook has got his furlough extended 30 days longer, so I heard. Some has good luck in getting their furloughs, and others have bad luck.
I like to had forgot to tell you the news. At last, Nancy Ann has got a fine son. It is going on three days old. I never have seen him yet. They say it is a mighty ugly little fellow.
Well, I believe I have written all I know.
Mollie is well and hearty. She says she wants her Pa to come home. She wants to see you. She talks about you a heap.
I do hope this cruel war will soon close, and we may meet to part no more until death separate us from each other.
I will close for this time. Write soon and as often as you can, which I know you will. I hope I will see you soon. Do all you can for a furlough. Write if you get plenty to eat and what you have to eat.
I hope you will get this soon, I want to get it off today.
Yours as ever.
N. J. Harden
To William H. Harden
Good-bye, my dear for this time. Remember me.