2nd New Hampshire Infantry - Wounded at Cold Harbor

Item LTR-5402

Description

4 pages, original Civil War Union letter written in period ink and war dated.


Camp on Harrison’s Bar, VA
August 3rd 1862


Friend Frank,


I received your letter of the 30th last night and I was very glad to hear from you and glad to learn that you were enjoying yourself. I wish I could say as much, but I cannot - for as yet, I see no signs of the war ever coming to a close. But I trust that it will close in a short time. Last night our whole division got orders to take one day’s rations and start on a scouting expedition. We were ready to start at eight and nine o’clock we started. We marched towards Malvern Hill till we came to the enemy in force too strong for us to fight. So we about faced and skedaddled for camp again where we arrived about two this morning, somewhat tired and pretty cross at having to go without our sleep. Today it is raining quite fast and the flies bite almost hard enough to take a piece of the hide out and they are thicker than three in a bed and one in the middle. I wish that I could have a chance to loaf off for a week in old Pittsfield. I don’t think I should get tired of it in that time though I should miss the sound of the drums every night and morning at breakfast-dinner and supper. And I should not care if I never saw an old musket again.

Speaking of getting my eyebrows down on my upper lip which I have not done yet, although I shave every two days. Makes me think that by this time you must have quite a mustache, ha, ha. If you could see me now I guess you would laugh. Sitting on the ground Turk Fashion. Flies biting the top of my head, hands, face, and hair half an inch long and I am trying to write but can’t make a letter fit to be seen. Did you help any about that state as in offering the bounty for the tin dipper? I suppose that they have got your name enrolled in the militia. Don’t you want to come out here and fight. I have only been in four fights besides two or three skirmishes and I have had as many as I ever want to see and if I can help it, I am not going to see another. If we had a surgeon fit to live, I could get my discharge but Dr. Merrow is the meanest man you ever saw. He drinks and eats up all the wine and jellies which are sent to the sick of the regiment and lets them die for want of care.

I don’t get any news to write now for we don’t get any, only what we get from home. So I shall have to close.

Yours truly,


Alvin F. Young