This letter was written by William (“Willie”) Clark Workman, Jr. (1846-1899) who enlisted in February 1864 to served in Co. K, 7th South Carolina Cavalry. During a portion of the summer 1864, Willie was being treated for syphilis in Jackson Hospital in Richmond, Virginia. In this letter, datelined from a hospital in Kershaw county, South Carolina, we learn that Willie was recovering from typhoid fever.

Willie was the son of William C. Workman (1803-1861) and Sarah Young Jenkins (1812-1863) of Camden. Willie’s gravestone in the prestigious Quaker Cemetery in Camden, South Carolina, is etched with the words, “Served with distinction, 1862-4, Co. K, 7th S. C. Cavalry, Gary’s Brigade.” His military records, including the “Confederate Home Records” prove that he did not enlist until 2 February 1864. He was married to Mary M. German (1860-1900) after the war.

Willie wrote this letter to Louisa Jane (“Janie”) Ballew (1843-1915), the daughter of Rev. David Lester Ballew (1802-1855) and Elisa Louisa James (1801-1873). Mention is made in the letter of Janie’s brother, “Ben.” This was Benjamin Franklin Ballew (1845-1913) who served in Co. I, 3rd South Carolina Infantry.

Transcription

Red Oak Camp, Lynches Creek
August 6th 1864

Dear Miss Janie,

Your letter of the 19th of last month reached me this morning quite unexpectedly but I assure you, I never had a more agreeable surprise in my life. You observe from the caption of this that I am once more in the limits of “home, sweet, home.” After passing through the most arduous portion of the present campaign in the “Old Domain,” I was taken quite suddenly with a severe attack of Typhoid Fever, prostrating me in the “walls” of the most detestable of all places in creation—a hospital. I am spending a part of my “thirty days” out on Lynches Creek in the country, about 25 miles from Camden. I have been very lucky or unlucky (as you may decree it) in getting home on sick furloughs. I have been home now about two weeks; almost half of my furlough. I am recruiting my health and strength very fast but on account of the excessive state of weakness which the disease left me in, I think it will be necessary for me to apply for an extension. But since I am here enjoying the sweets of home now, I do not regret my illness much.

We have had a very severe [time] of it in Virginia this summer; continually in the saddle and on the move, with no little fighting to do. I have been quite fortunate myself for in all the “tight” places that I have been in yet, I have not been scathed. I hope it will be so in all my future career.

Our company has lost many valuable men and officers since our reparation to Virginia Some of my best friends have been killed and wounded. But I could not expect anything to the opposite as this is one of the inevitable fatalities of the carnage of battle. Satis about war, and let us [move] on [to] other topics.

Our correspondence has been broken off for some time, and I assure you, Miss Janie, I missed those sweet missives of yours, which I have been receiving from you not a little. I have just been waiting for a convenient opportunity to send a letter to town so that I could write to you. But I trust that our correspondence which has hitherto been so regular and interesting (to me) may not be interrupted again. You write me that you fear your “thoughts” will be very “dull” and “uninteresting;” let me assure you that they are decidedly just the opposite. If you had only seen how eagerly I devoured the contents of your letter this morning, you would not write thus.

Tell Jimmie I think he ought to be ashamed of himself in not coming round to see you oftener. I suppose now since he is enjoying the sweets of a married life, he has forgotten his old friends. I wish you could have gotten acquainted with his lady. I think you would have liked her so much for she has such a sweet disposition. I wish it was so that I could make it convenient to take a little tour up in Laurens and Greenville while I am home. But I am afraid that delightful pleasure will be denied me. I would like very much to pass through Laurens and see you and the rest, but as I have such a short while to remain at home, I do not think that I can possibly do it and will have to postpone it until “this cruel war is over.”

“Do not despond…about our final success for as certain as there is a just God in heaven, we, who survive, will come out in this great contest gloriously and with victory perched on our banners.”

–Willie Workman, 7th South Carolina Cavalry. 6 August 1864

Camden as well as Laurens has had the veil of mourning stretched over her peaceful horizon. Several of her brave boys have lately sealed their devotion to their country’s welfare, with their life’s blood. But Laurens has suffered severely indeed for in nearly every engagement, some poor fellow from there falls a victim to the carnage of the battlefield. I am very sorry to hear of young J. M. Cluney’s death. I was acquainted with him and I think he was a nice fellow. Do not despond Miss Janie, about our final success for as certain as there is a just God in heaven, we, who survive, will come out in this great contest gloriously and with victory perched on our banners. And as to their getting here in our beloved state, they would have to find superhuman fighting, for where is the coward whose soul would not be nerved up to fight and die when he thought for an instant that he was striking for the fair women of South Carolina. But this, suffice to say, will never happen.

I can sympathize deeply with your brother for I know what it is to be cast in a miserable hospital with no one to feel or care for you. I hope he may get home soon where he can recover much faster. I would like very much to have seen the commencement. I know I would have enjoyed myself splendidly. The concert must have been worth going to see. You must think something of your correspondent to be writing to me, while you could be enjoying yourself much more pleasantly with the company that were downstairs awaiting you. I have scarcely finished perusing your letter before I am replying in return to you. You ought not to slight your company, Miss Janie, in writing to me, although I am doing the same act now, as there is somebody down below.

Tell Ben I think he might [write] to me sometimes. Pray excuse this, Miss Janie, for since I have been in Virginia, I have almost forgotten how to write a letter. Write early and direct to Camden, South Carolina. Give my love to Aunt Ballew, Miss Celia, and Miss Nannie, Ben and all my friends in Laurens. So adieu. Your dear friend, — Willie Workman