Manassas, Virginia, August 7, 1861

I have not written you since Sunday, when I indulged myself in the pleasure of writing my dear Elodie a long, but I fear uninteresting, letter, which was sent by mail

Since that time my duties as commander of the regiment, in the absence of Capt. Goldby and Capt. Davis, have kept me constantly engaged. Yesterday I was again detailed as field officer of the brigade and was on horseback all day and at night was up until after midnight visiting the sentinels. One of them was found sleeping on his post, and I fear the poor fellow will be harshly dealt with, but we will endeavor to have his punishment investigated.

I hardly know what to write you about as we have no news here. At a distance you have more opportunity of knowing what is going on here than we can have. Our Col. Davis has been removed from his command, I am now Col. of the regiment until another commander is assigned, which I hope will soon be as I do not like the responsibility and feel that I am incompetent. You must not tell me that I am influenced by false modesty, as I am really in earnest. While I tell you this, I feel entirely competent to discharge all the duties incumbent on me as the future husband of Miss Elodie, as he has so said there will hardly be a question on the subject. I love you more than words can express and nothing will ever make me happy until I am united with you, never again to be separated. If I am ever so fortunate as to return home, which I now hope for certainly, I will never wish, my dear Elodie, to be separated from you again. I look upon you as the guardian of my home and happiness and thank God that I have been so fortunate as to win your affections.

You must certainly remember me in your knitting. My foot is small, wearing a sock 10 ½ inches. The box Mr. Matthews sent me is lost, I fear, as I can make no discoveries of its whereabouts. We are collecting a large army here but know nothing of its object, unless a movement upon Alexandria is anticipated. This is inter nos. I will entrust to you the safety of my life, so convinced am I of your love. Nothing but your own lips would convince me of your insincerity, and I hope persons will amuse themselves in some other way than in saying you do not love me. I am glad that John proves faithful, and I hope he will keep you supplied with fruit and flowers. I fear my flowers will be much neglected. Could you venture a suggestion on the subject to him?

Maj. Haden has not yet visited us. He will be here this evening. I send this letter by a gentleman going to Selma. I am so hurried that you must accept a short letter. I will write you a long one soon. Remember me kindly to Mr. White and your sister, and, with assurances of my entire devotion, I remain, my dear Elodie,

Ever affectionately and sincerely yours,

N.H.R. Dawson