The following letter was written by Edwin Denison Noyes (1838-1911), the son of William Franklin Noyes (1813-1901) and Julia Elizabeth King (1815-1898) of Mystic, New London, Connecticut. Edwin was working in New Haven as a carpenter when he enlisted as a private on 9 July 1861 in Co. B, 5th Connecticut Infantry. He was mustered out of the regiment for disability on 11 January 1864.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Camp Wooster
August 4th 1861
Dear Mother and Father,
I am now under the shade of a tree and I thought it was a good opportunity to write you a few lines. We are now at Sandy Hook. They call it Maryland Heights near Harpers Ferry. The Potomac River divides us. We are in the State of Maryland. Virginia is right across the river.
We had a very pleasant ride in the cars to see the country. But riding so long was rather tedious. 1 We stayed in Baltimore about 5 hours. We marched from one depot to the other which is about two miles and the people of Baltimore said it was the hottest day that had seen for the summer. Two of the boys caved in—could not stand it. When we arrived at Sandy Hook, we marched about two miles farther to camp. Three or four more of the boys fell by the wayside. But I stood it first rate. I think there is not a man in the regiment can tucker me out.
A good many of them drank all the water they could and I did not drink any while I was on the march. I feel as well as ever I did in my life and the people say it is a very healthy place where we be. And there is ten or 20 thousand men along with us and but very few sick men. The water is good—all springs—and just as clear as it can be.
The people that live in the neighborhood seem to be very friendly—some good Union, and some you cannot trust. They have tried to poison some of the boys but did not make out.
The picket guards shoot now and then a man and bring in some men. It is a miserable looking country. Old houses. The people don’t seem to have any life, lazy, and don’t know anything. You ought to see some of the Pus [?] they make.
You must not worry about me. If I get killed, I will die in a good cause and I have not got to die but once.
Direct your letters to E. D. Noyes, Harpers Ferry, Virginia. Company B, 5th Regt. Connecticut Volunteers.
From E. D. Noyes
1 The ride in the railroad cars was described in the Regimental history: “The weather was excessively hot, sultry and muggy and sticky, the cars were crowded, with no room to lie down or sit up without coming in contact with others, and the damp of the weather and the grime of the tobacco users, and the steam of the crowds of pent up humanity, made those little box cars almost as foul as pig styes, and made us very miserable. We were dead played out, and we could no longer entertain each other with thrice told yarns; indeed, we were cross and irascible; we wanted to sleep, but we could not even do that.” [Page 33]
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