Isaac Taylor, 8 January 1865

DeValls Bluff, Arkansas
January 8, 1865

My Dear Wife,

It is a pleasant Sunday over head, but muddy enough under foot. It is or would be called “March weather” in Illinois. And you know it is the most unpleasant weather we have. A person feels neither like going out of doors or staying in the house. It is one of those days that I most think of you and desire your society. Since I have made up my mind to resign as soon as the Pay Master comes, time drags quite heavily—much more so than any time heretofore in my military experience. I wish he would come soon. We are expecting him this month. I should like to start for Minnesota as soon as the first of April so that we may get there in time to rent a place in season for garden making. It would be a great help to us as well as furnishing me with proper exercise.

I told Colonel [Hans] Mattson yesterday that I intended offering my resignation as soon as I was paid. He said he would like to have me remain with the regiment if I was able but as he thought I was not, he should approve my resignation whenever I should hand it in. So I don’t apprehend that I shall have much trouble in getting it accepted. And then we can live together. I hope for a long, long, long—yes, for I shall love to be with you and be the recipent of your love as you shall be of all of mine. I don’t wonder that it seems to you that we have played married life. We have hardly been together two months at a time since our marriage, and then under inauspicious circumstances. Yet through our long absence, I think that neither of us have faltered in course of love and affection. The time is drawing near when our long separations is to come to a close. May our meeting as well as our future life be happy indeed.

My health is improving slowly. And right here, Mary, let me tell you that there is no subject that I hate to speak of as much as this. I have talked of it so much and written about it so much, that it has really become a “bore” to me, but I am about as well as usual. I am on duty.

I wonder where my own dear Mary is tonight. It really seems a half year since I left you. It has been several days since we have had mail. We have a report here in camp that thirteen hundred of the Rebels came into Little Rock and gave themselves up. The Rebellion seems to be playing out on all sides. This winter campaign has been disastrous enough to their cause. Another year will close the war.

Dearest, I send you at least a hundred, warm, affectionate kisses.

Your husband, — Isaac Taylor

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