The following letters were written by Edwin Thomas Scott (1837-1921), the son of David Wetherell Scott (1806-1854) and Lodensy Veronica Butterfield (1817-1870) of Cuba, Allegany county, New York. Edwin wrote all of these letters to his wife, Celora (“Lola”) M. (Stebbins) Scott (1845-1915) of Richburg, New York. After marrying Celora in the summer of 1862, Edwin enlisted in November as the commissary sergeant in Co. E, 12th New York Cavalry. He was later transferred to Co. C and survived the war, mustering out at Raleigh in July 1865. According to his enlistment records, Edwin stood five feet 7 inches tall, and he had light hair and blue eyes.
Celora was the daughter of John Stebbins (1807-1855) and Electa A. Clark (1813-1880). Celora’s brother, mentioned as “Henry” or “Hank” throughout these letters, was William Henry Stebbins (1839-1864) of Wirt, Allegany county, New York. William enlisted in August 1861 as a private in Co. C, 85th New York Infantry. He was taken a prisoner on 20 April 1864 at Plymouth, North Carolina and died of dysentery as a POW at Andersonville on 18 June 1864.
Edwin and Lola’s first child is also frequently mentioned. Her name was Lucille (“Lucy”) Lynn Scott (1863-1933). She was born on 21 September 1863.
[See also 1865: Edwin Thomas Scott to Lola (Stebbins) Scott on Spared & Shared 10, published in 2016.]
Letter 1
Camp Washington
Staten Island, New York
My dear Lola,
Although I have written to you two times before this, I have not received a word from you yet. We moved from camp New Dorp yesterday and are now in sight of the great City of New York—also Brooklyn and Jersey City. I am so afraid my letters do not reach you, I do not know what to do, but I must wait and hope that you got through safe, that you are well, and that I may hear from you soon. I will not write much today as we are very busy fixing up our new quarters. When I hear from you I will write more fully. I have written to the following persons since I came over on this island; viz—Charles T. Scott, Wm. McK., Madame Lodensy, and Emma, Cora L. V., and Lola M. (this makes the third) and haven’t received a single letter yet. Stevens is over to the city today after some lime to whitewash our barracks and the other boys are making a sergeant’s room at one end. Write immediately on receipt of this. I send you a thousand kisses and hope you are well and safe. In haste. Your affectionate husband — [Ed]
To Lola.
[Direct to Sergt. E. T. Scott, Camp Washington, Staten Island, New York, 3rd Ira Harris Cavalry, Co. C
Letter 2
Camp Washington
Staten Island, New York
January 15th 1863
My dear Lola,
I went safely back to Crooks after leaving you on the cars, but could not go to bed—it was so lonely there—so I paid my our bill and went to Baker’s and stayed till this morning and came to the Island this morning on the 8 o’clock boat. My cough is a little better this morning but I did not sleep much thinking all the time you would be sick or meet with some accident. Oh how I wish I could know this morning how you are and whether you arrived at Cuba all right. But I must wait till Saturday and perhaps longer, nut I hope not. Oh how I wish I could look the entire length of that long winding Erie Railway & see how you succeeded in the journey. I will not try to write much this time but all I can do is to wait and hope. You will probably receive his Saturday and I will write you a full long letter next Sunday.
Give my love to Mother and Emma and all our Uncles, Aunts, and Cousins. Now write me a good long letter Sunday, and if you are not well enough, get Emma to write for you. You know how lonesome I get without a letter. I shall write to mother in a few days. Give my respects to all and excuse this bad writing as I have a severe headache. Your affectionate, — Ed
Letter 3
Headquarters 12th NYV
Cavalry 4th Ira Harris Guard
Camp Washington, L. I., N. Y.
April 12th 1863
My dear Lola,
I did not receive a letter from you last evening as I expected but will write you a few lines today and perhaps tomorrow’s mail will bring me a word from the dear ones at home. I wrote you last Sunday and enclosed a few lines to Mother and Emma which I hope you have received before this, I received a line from Uncle Abel day before yesterday and one from you Tuesday which was written last Sunday. I wrote you one week ago Wednesday which I have not heard of yet. So that is two letters you must have received since you wrote last Sunday.
The weather has decidedly improved & is now very warm & pleasant. There is no news concerning the regiment and I don’t think anyone knows when we shall move or where to. Lieut. Stevens is still here awaiting orders. My health has been very good and I am getting fat. I was over to New York last Monday and stayed at Crook’s all night. Mr. Ludden & son William got belated & remained in the city the same night & at some place. They live in Flushing but are to move back to Brooklyn where they formerly lived when Cora lived with them on the 1st of next month (May). Mr. Ludden sent his best respects to Mother and Emma & so did William. Tell Emma [that] Mr. Ludden said his little girls have grown to be big girls & the little one was so fat she could not walk yet. Mr. Ludden is doing quite well in business and is as strong a spiritualist—tell Mother—as ever. Write me immediately, my dear, on receipt of this. I am very anxious to know if you got my last. I am going to send you some money soon as I get some.
There is no sign of pay yet but when it does come, there will be the more of it.
We have quite a band now in our regiment which makes it more pleasant as we have music twice every day. There is a call for some one to go on patrol in our company so I suppose I must stop for the present, but I will finish and send this tomorrow morning.
Monday morning, April 13th. My dear bride, it is a little cooler this morning—just enough so to make a little fire comfortable. And as we have all been to breakfast, will write you a few more lines before ending this. Lieut. Stevens is going over to New York today but I can’t go today as I have other business on hand. I have not heard a word from our brother Henry. If you have, write me where he was and how he gets along.
I am getting very tired of remaining here in this old dirty camp & would much rather be on the way South before it gets to be such terrible hot weather. Send your Mother & Carrie my best wishes when you write. Tell Mother I expect a letter from her and Emma this morning and shall wait till the mail comes in before I send this as I may hear from you all. I have got the letter sure enough and now will close this by bidding you all goodbye. Your affectionate, — Ed
Letter 4
Headquarters 12th N. Y. V. Cavalry
2rd Ira Harris Guard
Camp Washington
Staten Island [New York]
May 24th 1863
My dear Lola,
I received a letter from Henry day before yesterday. He is well & the 85th is at Falmouth, North Carolina. I expect to see him if we go to Newbern. We are not on the move yet though I thought last Friday when I wrote you we should all be aboard transports by today. We have not received pay yet but expect it every day.
I had a letter from Stevens yesterday. He was at Washington. He has the appointment of Major in the Andrew Johnson Cavalry of Tennessee and expects to recruit a Battalion for the New York Regiment of that cavalry in western New York. So he will probably be at home before any days.
I received Mother’s and Emma’s letter all right and shall surely expect one from you tomorrow night.
Monday morning, May 25th. Here we are in old camp Washington with no more prospect of leaving than last Monday & I don’t think so much. I shall send this this morning and if you answer immediately on receipt, I think I can hear from you once more before we get away. I went and had my photograph taken yesterday and they will be finished by the middle of the week and I will write again.
The weather is quite chilly this morning and looks like a severe rain storm. We have had very pleasant weather the past week. Tell mother she did not read my letter very straight to think I wrote we were going to Indiana. It was to Annapolis, Maryland, that I then thought we should go.
Our going to Newbern may yet all fall through but I guess not as every preparation is being made for a move to some place.
I hope you got the package all right and have no doubt you did. There are many things I would like to buy and send you if I only had the money and opportunity.
I must close now as it is time for the mail to go. Excuse my haste and bad writing. I hope you will be able to read it. Give my love to Mother and write soon. I remain, my dear, as ever your affectionate, — Ed
Direct as usual and it will be sure to reach me. — E
Letter 5
Headquarters 12th New York Cavalry
Camp near Newbern, North Carolina
Monday eve, June 8th 1863
My dear Wife, Mother & Sister,
I wrote you a few lines last week just to let you know we had arrived safely and as I have received two from you today, one 27th May, the other June 1st, I will write you more particularly.
We have just got settled in a new camp out about three miles from town in a large forsaken plantation. There is a well, a large apple and peach orchard, and that is all that remains. It is rolling land, very sandy, and reminds me very much of Minnesota Prairie except is is surrounded by pine woods—the pitch pine for which North Carolina is so much noted—and which covers all the country around here. It is a scrubby tree and not near as large as the northern white pines. Blackberry season is about over. We got here just in time to get the last of it. I tell you it seems very strange to be picking blackberries the first of June and to see peaches and apples half grown and corn as high as your head and new potatoes. This is a great country for fruit and I think a fine country to live in. I think I should like to live here if it was filled with northern people.
There is a great many soldiers here from different states. Some have lately come out and some are just ready to go home (2 years men).
I sent a letter to Henry by on of his company yesterday. His regiment is still stationed at Plymouth
Our horses, arms and equipments are all here and we are soon to be transformed into soldiers. We are taking lessons very fast now, learning the uses or arms and horses at the same time. We have fine horses and expect to make a good appearance by first of July. I am very glad to hear you are all getting along so well. I sent some money to Uncle Abel and enclosed you will find an order on him for 5 apiece. I hope Em, you will be a good girl and help Mother and Lola all you can. You know they have nobody to do the chores. Lola will want you to do some sewing and I will pay you well for it. When this war is over, I will be home with you and then we will all be together again and have a good time.
The heat is not so oppressive as I thought it would be at first. But there is time enough for that yet. The weather so far has not been very uncomfortable. I have failed to hear from Stevens but expect to before long for he will probably hear our regiment has left. How I wish you could be here to see this southern land of darkies, tar and turpentine. Sweet potatoes and cotton grow here and every kind of fruit you choose to cultivate.
The soldiers all sleep on the ground or anywhere where night overtakes them. The darkies are very thick and the southern white folks are very scarce, being nearly all rebels and all left for the minions of Jeff Davis. I hope you will all get along well. I will try and help you all I can. I am ticketed for the war now and expect to follow it to the end, You may not see me again for some time but I think it will come out right in the end and perhaps long before we expect it.
I send you all my love and best wishes and hope to see you when this war is over safe and well. I shall expect a long letter from you by return mail. It takes long [so] I shall expect you to be very punctual. Direct Co. C (instead of Co. D), 12th NYV Cavalry. Camp Harris, Newbern, NC
Goodbye for this time. As ever your affectionate husband, son & brother, — Ed
Letter 6
Washington, North Carolina
Saturday, July 11th 1863
My dear Lola,
I will now finish up this letter which has been on my hands so long. I have been waiting but waiting in vain to get a letter from you. But I have finally heard from you I know you are well. Maj. Stevens wrote me a letter dated 23rd ult. so I know you was well then. I think your letters have been miscarried. I am afraid you directed to Co. D, the old company I used to belong to. If not, some other misdeal has been made. I had a nother letter from Henry the day before yesterday. He is well and doing well as can be expected. He wrote me his company was going to have a Fourth of July dinner and a dance. The weather is getting extremely hot here. We have quite a number on the sick list but my health continues very good. I suffer less from the heat than from the fleas & mosquitoes which are thick enough to spare.
I wish you could see my room. I am all alone in a room by myself at present; the room is about 10 by 14 feet, has two windows, and a glass panel door, open on the outside of the building, which is an old turpentine warehouse and has three steps down to the ground. I sleep on a cricket bedstead which stands in one corner. I have two blankets, a tick, and an old oil cloth blanket. The tick I use for a sheet this hot weather. I have a corn husk pillow; both of my windows have got course screens in made of slazy oat bags we get. The desk I write on is an old reb show case with wood cover and glass sides. It is about 6 feet long and two wide. On the nails by the door hangs first, cup and towel, then toothbrush, haversack, canteen, jacket, drawers, lariat rope, watering bit, great coat, shirt, cap, night shirt, extra jacket & pants, basket, sabre & pistol, little leather needle & thread concern, brush & comb, picture of two horses and four generals, broom, & that brings us around to the door again.
I put my drawers and shirts into my writing desk, also pen, ink, paper, extra cartridges, old newspapers, &c. I have two short benches and an old Reb arm chair. Also a small desk with a drawer I use to eat on and put my grub, spoon and plat, knife & fork in. In short, it’s my pantry. The room is sealed up with rough boards and floor of the same material. It was fixed up by the 3rd New York Cavalry. They have left and our boys now occupy the same buildings & stables they did. My room is a very good one and I hope I shall be able to hold it as long as we stay here.
We hear by the mail today that the rebels have met with a great defeat in Pennsylvania and also that Vicksburg is at last taken. I hope it is all so but think its too good to be true.
Sunday morning, July 12th, ’63. Well, my dear, this is a warm, muggy morning such as we have in old Allegany along in August. It is what farmers would call good corn weather. I will close this lengthy epistle by asking a few questions about home affairs, and how you all get along. In the first place, write me how many letters you have sent since we came South, and next how many letters you have received so I will know how well my letters have travelled. Do you have plenty of money to do with? For fear you do not, I will send you an order on Uncle Abe for ten dollars. I wonder if he got the money I sent him by Express? You can divide and let Mother have some if she is hard up. Does Em & Mother do much sewing this summer? How does the garden grow? You will have to raise enough vegetables for me too, for I don’t think I shall get home even to hoe the potatoes. You finally got cheated out of a Melodeon but it will sound all the better when I get home to hear it and we have a good sing.
Does Uncle Philo’s old hens bother Mother as bad as ever? And does Em run out in the rain bare headed & footed & then have the paw-tode and beller-ache? What do you do for Chestnut kindling wood? And milk and butter—do you get any of those things? If you don’t, you fare the same as I do. The army ratio is as follows: salt-beef, pork or bacon. Here we have fresh meat about once in two weeks, Hard tacks one day, poor quality of Baker’s bread the next. Rice, beans, coffee, tea, sugar, vinegar, candles, soap, and a little molasses once in two weeks. This is the whole of the government allowance here. But in some places they have some vegetables.
I hope you will keep up good courage for I think things look more favorable for a close of the war than they have for a long time. Give my love to Mother & Emma—and all of you read this and write me a long letter. Give my best wishes to all our friends and relatives. Hoping you may keep up good courage and have continued good health till we meet again, I remain my dear girl your affectionate husband, — Ed
Letter 7
Camp Palmer near Newbern, North Carolina
October 15th 1863
My Affectionate wife,
I wrote you a few lines last week in a letter to Mother I intended to write you last Sunday but we were out on a scout eight or ten miles from camp & I have not found time until today and even now I am on camp guard. I have to write when my relief is off. I am sitting here on the ground near the guard tent against a big elm tree with my writing arrangements in hand, This camp used to be an old reb planter’s door yard & contains about five acres. It is perfectly splendid. Long rows of cedar & cypress on the Newbern road which is nearby & is the front of our camp. The officers’ tents occupy nearly the whole of the yard, or park, as it might be called, as it is filled with large maple, gum & elm trees thirty or forty years old. It is nearly as level as a floor. The next thing back is the mens’ tents & horse stables in rows, enclosed. You will find a little diagram of camp. Back of camp is the large plantation on which we drill. It is nearly a mile square. We get along very well with the drill & the old companies that came down last spring begin to act & look very much like troopers. But the five new companies have much to learn yet.
I received yours of the 2nd & 5th informing me you were able to write again, was doing well, & was a good “mama.” I don’t want you to think of sending me anything as I have plenty & more than I can possibly carry if we were ordered on a raid. A good trooper wants nothing but his blanket & one suit of clothes & them he wants on his back. He has some thirty pounds in arms & ammunition to carry on his body besdies (carbine, pistol, sabre, belt, straps, & cartridges & box) These he has to carry whenever on duty, mounted or dismounted. His blanket & greatcoat belong on the saddle. When he goes on a raid, twenty rounds of cartridges are put in the boxes (about five pounds), curry comb & brush in one saddle bag, salt meat & hard tack in the other; halter, feed bag & lariat rope hitched to the rings in the saddle, spurs on his boots, bridle rein in his left hand & then he is ready for a start.
We have had beautiful weather for the past month without hardly a shower, but the rainy season set in day before yesterday & it has poured down in torrents every few hours since & we expect to get thoroughly soaked by next March, If the land was not very sandy, we should get drowned out.
I have not heard from Henry in some time. I believe though I owe him a letter so I must write him soon. It isn’t time to give our little baby a name yet, Wait till she can say mama, papa, & aunty. I hope you won’t kiss it to death because I want a chance when the war is over to have a smack. Give it plenty of warm clothing, fresh air, and bathe it all over every day. Be very particular with yourself about diet and exposure. For the little one will be very likely be sick every time its mama is.
I don’t think there is the slightest danger of my receiving any letter from New York so I shall not have to answer any. I don’t want anything to do with the party till there is an entire change in the programme. We don’t have any “war news” here. It seems more like a foreign country than any place I was ever in yet in my life. We have thirty men on picket out of the whole regiment. They stand on different roads out of camp from five to seven miles out. Last night four rebel deserters came to our outposts. They were recently at Charleston and have managed to get away here.
I hear there is a mail in town from New York so I will have to wait till tomorrow before I send this and then perhaps it will not leave Newbern under two or three days. You must not be afraid of my drinking coffee. The coffee we get in the army is nearly all scorched peas & beans. We get black tea every other night for supper. The only thing I want more than we get is vegetables. We haven’t had any except what we buy ourselves & a very few miserable potatoes since we came here. I did like sweet potatoes very much at first but soon got sick of them. We have plenty of steady work and very hard work too.
Give my love to all. Write me all the news and particulars. And keep up good courage til this war is over and we meet again. I remain, my dear Lola, as ever your affectionate, — Ed
Kiss the baby for me & tell it its papa is at war. Direct as usual.
Letter 8
Camp Hoffman
Bachelors Creek, North Carolina
November 23rd 1863
My dear Lola,
I received your interesting and affectionate letter of the 8th inst. and was very glad to learn you arrived safely at Richburg and was enjoying a good visit with the folks. I was also very sorry to learn you had not received the two letters I have already directed to Richburg but you must have received them before this as I directed them very plainly and both in care of Mother Stebbins. I expect another letter from you every day so I will not send this unless I should not get one by the next boat, If I do not, then I will send it anyway, I have received a letter from Henry and also one from Mother & Emma since I wrote you last, They were going home in a day or two and you have probably heard from them long before you receive this. Emma was going to school at home and Oliver was going to commence school somewhere last Monday week but she did notwrite where he was going to teach.
Henry wrote he should try and get a pass to Newbern after payday. If he does, I shall have a chance to see him.
My health continues good. I don’t have much to do now except the company writing. I buy a dish of milk every day and have a good dish of bread and milk. If I could have some of Mother’s brown bread, then I should soon get fat. The weather is very beautiful. We have scarcely had a sprinkle of rain for two months and is it just warm enough to be pleasant.
Wednesday, 25th. Another mail and still no letter! I will send this by the steamer making three in all I have sent to Richburg and I think you must certainly receive one of them. Don’t fail to write every Sunday. Direct your letter in a little larger hand writing so they will be sure to come through right. I hope you take good care of our little baby and bath it frequently. That is the main thing for its health. Give it a few good smacks for its papa & tell me in your next if it grows any. I suppose it can’t speak its name yet though like all other babies it can probably make itself distinctly heard.
I have no news to write of military affairs here except the change of Generals. We have now Ben Butler in the place of Foster, so you may look out for some news in a short time for he says we have got to fight. I send all by best wishes and hope you will keep in good health and keep up good spirits till my return. I remain, my dear wife, as ever, your affectionate husband, — Edwin
Direct as usual.
On the opposite side of this you will find a rough plan of a cavalry camp. * The Howitzer Company or Flying Artillery is formed by detached men belonging to the other companies. They have only two small pieces (brass 6 lbs. shot & shells). They go on the run & are intended to go along with cavalry. All the gunners are mounted so they can all keep up. The stables are made of pine poles covered with brush. The horses stand upon each side of the log mangers in each company. The tents of the men front the stables and are eight feet apart. The cook tents are on the back end of the row. The line officers’ tents all front their companies. The Field & Staff tents all front the same way—that is, in this camp south. It looks very pleasant in the evening to see so many tents all lighted up. We have quiet evenings now but we have to go to bed at half past eight and up at five. — E
Letter 9
Bachelor’s Creek, North Carolina
January 31st 1864
My dear Lola,
Yours of the 20th I have just received with the likeness all right. Oh how glad I am to once more see that face which to me is dearest of all and though far distant, in thought ever present. I think my dear, you looked a little tired; little Lucy’s likeness looks better than I expected it would. How fat she is! The change between the old likeness I have and the new one is very great. You have really got to be a woman! The little girl I carried around in my pocket & now a woman and a mother! I am very sorry I have not a likeness to send you in return, but it will not be many days before I can send one as I shall go to Newbern & have it taken.
I have written twice to Richburg since you left which I hope you will receive before this. So you are now at home again after a long absence. How do you find yourself & how is mother & Emma? I expected a letter from them tonight but it did not come. I wrote to Emma last week. You will find an order on Uncle Abe Scott in this for I think you must be in need of a little money. I remain in usual good health.
Give mother and Emma my love and give my best wishes to all. Kiss the baby for its papa and write me all the news. I will write soon again, my dear, and hoping you will be in good health till we meet again, I remain your affectionate, — Ed
Letter 10
Camp Palmer, North Carolina
March 28th 1864
My affectionate Lola,
I received your very interesting and good letter of the 20th inst. this evening. I am very sorry you do not receive my letters more regularly, I wrote & sent you one other 15th. Also the 21st inst., both of which I hope you received before this.
I had a letter from Henry las evening, He is getting along nicely in the Battery & says he hopes to remain there the remainder of his period of enlistment.
There is no excitement here at present though we expect to make a dash at the Rebels every day. I have my tent nicely built up four feet high with logs & the tent makes a nice roof for my little house. I shall think it a shame. If we have to move again very soon. Hank says he thinks our company has got to be a moving planet? But we are getting very comfortable here now so we all hope the orders to move will keep away from us.
Our cold equinoctial storm has passed so I shall soon be able to get some flowers to send you. The paymaster has not been here yet so I cannot send you the “phiz.” I am very sorry for Mate, and send her my love. Also my kindest regards to Charley & Carrie and Roza & Sam. I do not think you will have to chain me very close to keep me, my dear, if I live to get home safely and see you again. Hank promised me on his word and honor he would not re-enlist so I think you will all have the pleasure of seeing him at home again next summer.
Give my love to your Mother and I send you & little Lucy my blessings, prayers, & kisses, hoping you may be happy & well till we meet again.
Your affectionate, — Ed
Letter 11
Camp Palmer, North Carolina
April 9, 1864
My Dear Lola,
I hardly know how to commense this, it has been so long since I heard from you. But as I expect at least one letter from you in the next mail, which is expected to arrive today, I mean to commence this and finish it after I get a letter from you. I would like to have you see our camp as it now stands. All the tents are raised four feet high with small ground pine poles out up in the manner of a log house, only much nicer. I have room in my tent for a small table & many other things. The tent make a good roof for this “stockade” as we call the body of our houses. We have also built a roof to shelter our horses from rain and sun & now we are as comfortable as ever. We have had much rainy weather for the past two weeks & quite cool too. I have a good appetite and some enjoyment although I long for the expiration of my term of enlistment. I have long since give up the idea the war would close & now fully expect to serve my full period. Though it is hard to be so long absent from those we love, it is no more than many are obliged to do & so I live on in hopes that it may be my firtune to outlive this confinement and once more see the bright faces of my little family & have the gladness it always gives to meet those we love who have been long absent. And my dear wife, what happiness it will be to have your continual presence with those laughing & roguish eyes which I suppose have grown more sedate & womanly during the two years that have transformed you from the girl I loved so well to the woman, wife & monther in whom I place all my future love, hopes, & happiness. Yes, my dear wife, and our little girl, what would I give to see its bright face & share with you the care & responsibility of our little one. It is now some seven months old or nearly that & for the next few months will require much care & patience as it will be talking & have other difficulties all babies have to encounter. It will need great prudence & discretion on your part, my dear, to keep yourself and little one in health. But I have great confidence in you as I know you have learned many a useful lesson since our acquaintance first commenced & that you will do all in your power for the mutual health & happiness of our little family.
I received a letter from Mrs. Phillips who you will remember lives in Wisconsin & we call “Aunt Mina.” She is mother’s youngest sister & married rich & is now a widow. She sent me some nice photographs—one of her deceased husband & two of herself. She is a very smart woman and a model housekeeper. She & her husband always thought considerable of me & done me many kindnesses. I had a letter from Emma last week. She is going to teach the school that Ob. had last winter. You will remember when we went & took the sleigh ride. There is nothing new or strange at home. Everything goes as usual. Mother does not have very good health. I suppose you hear from them occasionally. I have not heard from Henry since I wrote you before. He is probably well or I would have heard of it.
We have not see our Paymaster yet though we expect him every day. I hope you will excuse this government waste paper as my stationery is getting very scarce, but if you cannot read it, all right. Yours of the 3rd of March had no regiment on the address & was not in long handwriting. Consequently it got miscarried (as there are a great many Co. C’s. It took a round about course & went to New Orleans, La. & finally reached me last week. All your other letters have reached me safely. I wrote you the 9th ult. which i hope you have received.
Sunday morning. April 10th. The mail has come & still no letter, my dear, from you, After raining all night, it has cleared off a beautiful & bright April day. I had one letter last evening. It was from Stevens. Uncle sam’s folks are all well so he writes, but no news otherwise except the water in the Reservoir is very high & bids fair to drown them out. I am very sorry I cannot hear from you my dear before sending this. Put the direction on your letters yourself and write very large and plain. Then they will surely reach me without being miscarried. I have already occupied considerable space for this rambling letter so I will close & write you again as soon as I hear from you. I send my love to Mate, Carrie, Charley, Rosa, Sam & your mother if she has yet returned from the East. Kiss little Lucy for me & I send you my prayers & best wishes for continual health and the comparative happiness that you may have till my return.
Your affectionate husband, — E. T. Scott
P. S. You must let me know how you get on for money & if there is anything else that I can do to add to your comfort, As Mother will be alone most of the time during the coming summer, I hope you will at least make her a good long visit while Emma is at her school. I am willing if for your happiness and comfort to have you stay at Richburg, but I think you will enjoy making all our numerous relations in Cuba & vicinity a good visit and perhaps stay with Mother part of the season; though I shall not urge the matter & only leave you to your own inclinations & trust that wherever you are, you will be happy as circumstances will permit & always use that discretion & judgement in your associations with others which I know your instincts have given you & for which I hold you in great esteem. Always go guarded against those who are mean & avoid the society of those who have no self respect or neglect for others. I need not tell you, my dear, of the many vicious & evil persons in the army for you well know they are from all places & classes of civilization. And I only sustain myself against so many troubles, trials and temptations which are greater even than any physical exertions I have to encounter, by the continual hope that there will soon be an end to this, & relieve me from the unnatural surroundings. And added to this, I have the ever present consciousness that at home the bright face & pure heart ever waits to receive me, as true as when I set forth from those I love. So my dear, I have strength to do well where otherwise surrounding influence & tempation would lead me into trouble, & I should lose the happiness memory now brings me constantly of my affectionate wife & innocent child, whose face I see in dreams if not in reality, & of whose continual affection I hope ever to prove worthy, & that my small family may ever have my utmost exertions & protection & an unsullied name.
Excuse this very long post script & once more I wish you goodbye till next. — Ed
Letter 12
Camp Palmer, North Carolina
July 12th 1864
My affectionate Lola,
I do not receive your accustomed weekly note so regularly of late so although it is now Tuesday evening, it still finds me anxiously expecting yours which I should have received last Saturday. But the steamers are very irregular between here & New York of late & that accounts for my letters being so long in reaching their destination.
How I do wish I could send a letter and receive an answer once a week! but communication by mail is too slow for that & we must wait patiently for the arrangements that are.
This is a very sultry evening though it is trying to rain. I have been after berries today & succeeded in getting about two quarters of blackberries & whortleberries which were very nice. I received a letter from Hunt Morgan last Saturday. He says he is not partial to babies but out “wee darling” is the prettiest and beats them all. Of course you heard Alice was married & is house-keeping in Allegany. I wrote to Emma Sunday but have not heard from her or Mother in some time. I expect a letter everyday from them.
We are having quiet, easy times here yet but do not know how soon our regiment will be ordered up to Virginia where the fight is going on. A great many of our regiment are anxious to go but I am well satisfied with remaining here at present & shall be as long as the rebs keep away. The cavalry at the front have suffered severely lately, a great many losing their entire lot of horses and being obliged to go on fighting dismounted. The 3rd New York Cavalry which left here last spring some 11 hundred strong have now only 290 left. They lost their Colonel the 19th ult. by the bursting of a reb shell near where he stood. Many a brave officer and soldier have given up their lives since the commencement of the present campaign. And yet how many more must die before it is ended!
I wrote you a long letter on the 4th & 5th which I hope will reach you safely. There is no probability of our getting paid till nearly the 1st of August. I will send you some money then for I think you will need some—though you never write whether you have any or enough, or none. I wish you would write what it costs you to live & if your Mother gets any help or not. You don’t say one word about your living in any way shape or manner. I wish you would tell me what it is needful for you to have [and] why you do not like to write me all the particulars of your expenses & living. And do write me everything concerning your wants and wishes. Send me also all the little items of news you can think will be interesting. Tell me how Charley & Carrie get along & all the occurrences & events that come within your observation. The responsibility & care of little Lucy Lynn must be very considerable & probably occupies considerable of your time. Kiss her for me & give my best wishes to all our friends.
Your ever affectionate, — Ed
Letter 13
Camp Palmer, North Carolina
July 24th 1864
My dear Wife,
Yours of the 17th came last evening and yours of the 10th I received on the 18th, the very day I last wrote you. Yesterday I wrote a short line to Henry & sent to the Agent of Exchange to have it forwarded to Andersonville, Georgia. If I succeed in getting a return, which I think rather doubtful, I will let you know.
We have had three or four cool, delightful days which reminds one of the fall of the year when the variegated foliage presents such a beautiful picture of green, yellow, and silver & golden, & nature in her splendor & magnificence out rivals all works of art. Beautiful indeed are those wonderful pictures that adorn the hills and vales in the fall of the year. Don’t you sometimes wish they would last always? and those cool, delicious autumnal days when the ripe fruit hangs in such abundant luxury! All nature arrived at perfection; how little we heed the lesson of wisdom it teaches. My dear girl, while these few fleeting years are passing so swiftly by, what important and beautiful thoughts present themselves while viewing the wonderful creation with its perfection & harmony! But I do not intend to sermonize on this half sheet, but will proceed to items of current events.
I have excellent health & we hear no more about leaving here for the present. We have not received our pay yet & hardly know when to expect it. I have had a letter from Mother & one from Emma since I wrote you last. Mother was at Mr. Hammond’s on a visit. Emma’s was written the Fourth of July. She had been to a party at Baldwins but she probably told you all about it before this.
Fifteen months & a half more! & then I shall be at liberty if I am so fortunate as to live that time, and then I shall see you all & be at home. And little Lucy will be a little two year-old, just big enough to play with. She will then have to learn her letters & then how to read & how to write. And when she grows up to play some instrument & sing, do you think she will learn easy? When it is convenient for you to get her picture, please send it. I want to see if she grows any. I send my best respects to all and want you to write me often all the particulars of your prosperity and health. Be careful & not over exercise during hot weather. I am afraid you will not use the judgement that is necessary for your own good health. But hoping all will be well till we meet, I will bid you goodbye till I write again.
Very affectionately yours, — Ed
Letter 14
Camp Palmer, North Carolina
October 7, 1864
My dear Lola,
Your letter mailed at Friendship reached me in due tie & yours of the 26th reached me last evening. I suppose by this time you have returned to Richburg so I will direct this there. I cannot write much this evening as this is the first time I have been able to sit up for several days. There is much sickness about here & in New Bern as you have probably heard before this by the newspapers. I think I shall come out all right in a few days. I can write you no news. I do not get a sign of a letter from home. It seems they do not care to hear from me. The last time Mother wrote that I have received was when you were at home the 1st time.
You say I don’t tell you all about my being sick. If I did it would not make you feel any better. I say and think as little about it as I can myself. I hope you are comfortably situated for the winter though I know it would add to our happiness in the greatest measure if I could be with you.
I send you inclosed in this a small sum $5 which you may need. you have not ever informed me if you received the last I sent you. You must be more particular and let me know when you get anything from me & what you need. You never write one word of what you are doing, what you want, or what you have to do with.
I send my respects & best wishes to all, and will write you more fully in my next. Kiss the little year-old who has no right to be a baby any longer for me & I send you my dear much love. Your affectionate husband, — Ed
Letter 15
Camp Palmer, North Carolina
November 10th 1864
Dear Girl,
This beautiful night is like a bright evening in May at home, with a soft southern breeze & a bright moonlight. It reminds me of many happy hours spent at home with friends. It don’t seem possible that it is now winter & here I sit writing in my shirt sleeves, door & window open. I forgot to tell you in my last we are building new houses for the winter & I am already snugly stowed away in one. I have a nice little room with a door to the south & a window toward the setting sun. It is very pleasant & much more comfortable than tents. There are two other rooms in the building which is 14 ft. by 18. I have just one third for my own use. The buildings are rough & built of logs but very comfortable.
Last Sunday was my birthday & don’t you think I got three letters besides your little wee one which I prized more highly than all. I was glad you received the $5 note all right & soon as I get pay, I will send you more. One letter I got from Mother, one from Emma, & one from Uncle Abe Scott. I suppose Em has written you about the purchase of the Lotridge place there opposite Uncle Aaron’s. It is a very nice place & will be a comfortable home & more. I think Cora has done right in buying it for she can easily afford it. By the way, if you have an extra likeness of Cora, I wish you would send me—but do not mention it to our folks or anything else I may say of her. I only wish your Mother had as nice & comfortable a place as the Lottaridge place is. But I guess by what you write you are very comfortable for the winter & that is all we can expect these times.
Well, my dear, I am getting to be a very old man—over 25! Only think of that! I shall be so old you will hardly know me when I get home. Then how bad you’ll feel? We are all growing old, but as long as the heart is young, we will be happy. The last time I wrote to Mother I sent for some dried berries & now they are on the way—a nice box of them. So my dear, you can see I shall have something good. My health is very good now & I am fast gaining in strength & flesh. The weather is beautiful & the sickness has nearly abated.
The regiment has received over two hundred recruits this fall & we are now stronger in numbers than ever again. There are no furloughs granted here at present & it isn’t at all likely I shall get one to come home before the end of my term of enlistment. This is the last day of two years that I have served. One year more. Now I shall begin to count the time. Soon it will be only months! But I am anticipating. A year is a time for many, very many changes. After all, we can only hop & hope for the best. It is getting so late I must close for this evening but I shall try to finish it in time for the mail in the morning. For tonight I bid you good rest & pleasant dreams & kisses for little Lucy. I dream of her often & though she is at present a tiresome task, with proper management she will be a future comfort & happiness to us both. I trust fully to your good sense and management for the next year, & know you will realize the responsibility that is upon you. The disposition of our little one is in a measure to be formed—if mild & gentle & kind—then will she be an amiable girl & afterwards if she lives, a respected woman. But if brought up in passion & indulgence & willfulness, she will be the reverse which I know we will do all in our power to avoid. All we have to remember is that kindness & gentleness begets the same, and a child is quick to imitate others, and your best method is to do as we wish out little one to do.
November 11th. It us a little cooler this morning although there is no frost. We have had but very few frosts & I have no stove in my room as yet. But it isn’t long before I shall have a little one to keep off the damp & chilly air. This morning I have a fire out doors to make me a cup of tea & a stew of meat & hardtack. I think you would laugh to see soldiers cooking but they manage very well considering what they have to cook.
I received a letter from L. N. Stevens last evening. He was soon to go west on a visit to Illinois. I think by what he writes he has done very well farming through the summer.
I have only been to New Berne once for nearly three months on account of the sickness, but tomorrow I am going down again to get me a stove & some other nice little affairs. I have to pay a very steep price for everything here but some little things you know cannot be dispensed with.
I send my best wishes to all, my love to your Mother & sisters, and wish you good health through the cold winter. I look anxiously for the picture since you said you were going to send it. I shall not have the opportunity to get mine for you at present but when the shops open again in town I will have one taken. Be very careful of your health, my dear Lola, for in our future health depends much of our happiness & long years of suffering can be prevented by a little care and thoughtfulness. Your affectionate husband, — Ed
I hope you will overlook the bad writing and rambling composition of this letter & I will try to do better in future. — E
Letter 16
Goldsboro, North Carolina
31st March 1865
Dear Lola,
This large army is taking a rest & so I have a few spare moments today to write you of my continued good health and a few items of interest that have occurred since my last. I have returned from another trip to Newbern. The cars run now regularly once a day. I went down for some ammunition and other things for the company.
I meet very few that I know in this large assemblage of soldiers & from them I learn that others that I once knew are now gone, no more to return. But I think we are nearly through with this terrible war—perhaps nearer than we imagine. The enemy have very few resources left to combat with our large National forces & I think their leaders will soon discontinue this desperate efforts.
Our company is still escort for Maj. General Cox, which is much better business than scouting around with the regiment in all directions. Our loss has been since we started three captured & two wounded—once since died. The loss of the regiment has been very heavy in captured—some 150 in all. The country is very beautiful here—what we could call level, large well-cultivated plantations with good buildings & orchards, all in full bloom, though it is considerable colder than at Newbern.
I am very anxious to hear from you & from home. But in so large an army, it takes some time for a letter to reach its destination. I will write you again before we leave here. Give my love & best regards to your Mother & sisters. Kiss little Lucy for me & write me a good long letter. Direct as usual to Co. C, 12th N. Y. Cavalry, Newbern, N. C.
Hoping I may have the good fortune to be with you in a few months & wishing you all the blessings of health, I remain yours, — Ed
Letter 17
Headquarters 23rd Army Corps
Raleigh, North Carolina
May 3rd 1865
My dear wife,
I find it very difficult to keep up a correspondence where the writing is all on one side but still I persevere keeping up a continual hope that the unaccountable delay in the mails will soon cease & that your little weekly messages will once more come o hand with accustomed regularity & then I shall be able to write you more interesting & lengthy communications. As it is, I don’t know where to address you nor what to write, but I venture you are well & happy to think the terrible war is at last over & that the soldiers are soon to return to their homes. Do you ever think how the soldiers all look? with their dirty, ragged clothes & rough, sunburned faces & brown, ugly hands—living almost wholly in the open air—they did have stern, harsh features, but good news of peace makes even the ugliest smile, & now the best feelings prevail & joy & laughter is heard throughout the camps.
A very large portion of the troops left here Saturday & Sunday for the North. But our Corps (the 23rd) and the 10th Corps, are to remain in this state until state laws are established and until order & quietness is restored. It may be several weeks, it may be several months, but even if it is, I am well satisfied to know the war is at an end and peace is with us. We have very little to do & live as easy and well as possible. I often look back just two months ago today when we left New Berne and think what great changes have taken place & how successful our armies have been to capture nearly the whole southern forces & thus bring so sudden a close to the war! And today we see hundreds of northern & southern soldiers walking the streets together who but a few days ago were arrayed in bloody contest against each other.
I wrote you kastt week and enclosed an order on Uncle Abe for ten dollars, which I hope will reach you safely. There is now eight months pay due us, but we hardly expect to get any till we are discharged. All the men we lost by capture we have heard from. They are mostly at the North. The rebel army had about all they could do last month without looking after prisoners. But there is no rebel army now—not at least this side of the Mississippi river. The small bands that have not been surrendered & paroled have mostly deserted & gone to their homes. So we remain in the field with nothing to fight!
If I could see my wife and my little girl, I should be perfectly happy. I hope the time will be short, It seems like summer here. The roses are magnificent. Large oaks and elms are very abundant in this beautiful city & already the poor, frightened people begin to look more cheerful & smiling. The Yankees don’t seem to be so very bad to them after all.
The climate is very delightful here. I don’t see how people want to be so foolish as to live in cold Allegany with the long snowy winter when there is such a fine country as this without any snow or cold weather to speak of. But I will send all my love & best wishes and wish you goodbye till my next, hoping it will not be long before I see you all. Your affectionate husband, — Ed
Letter 18
Headquarters 23rd Army Corps
Greensboro, North Carolina
May 12th 1865
Dear Lola,
For several days I have waited for a line from you so I could know where to direct, for I have thought by this time you may have returned to your mother’s, but no line comes so I must proceed to tell you how I am passing the time & how I long for the time to come round when we shall be sent home & discharged. We have very quiet times in camp which is in a little oak grove close by the town. I go after strawberries every day & get all my rations cooked & my washing done. We have ham & eggs & milk and first rate living for soldiers.
I received an old letter from Emma last evening dated 7th April and one from Stevens. He said you was up to make them a visit. I hear great praise of our little daughter & how I do long to see her! You must send me her likeness the first opportunity. I wrote to Emma yesterday. It don’t seem as though we were soldiers since the war ceased. Everything is so quiet & easy. I expect we shall be detained here a couple of months or more but I shall write often & soon as the mails are regulated, letters will go through much sooner.
Our march from Raleigh was rather a pleasant trip than otherwise though we rode the whole distance of 80 miles in two days. This town is about fifty miles south of Danville, Va., & it is about as pretty a town as I have seen in the state. The country is more like home here than about New Berne & much heathier. The people did not own many niggers here but done most of their own work. Our regiment is now away down at Tarboro—not far from Little Washington, & I hope they will stay there. We have much easier times here than with the regiment.
Sunday morning, May 14th. Well, my dear, this letter is not off yet for the very reason that I have been waiting to hear from you but no letter comes so it must be finished today. I am getting so many letters ahead, I hardly know how to write & scarcely believe you will find time to read them. The only thing you can do is to burn them up. I am going after strawberries today & when I get some, the old lady that cooks for me has promised to make me a short cake. I had a taste or two already & today will have all I can eat. Cherries are almost ripe & blackberries, raspberries, and all kinds of fruit are coming forward most wonderfully. We have a good many luxuries here that we have been without over a year.
This is a very fine country & the people seem to be very glad the war is over. I guess I will send this line to Seymour & by the time I write you again, I shall know how to direct. I send my love & best wishes to all. Kiss little Lucy for me & remember me as ever your affectionate husband, — Ed
Direct to Co. C, 12th NY Cavalry, Headquarters 23rd A. C., Greensboro, N. C.
Letter 19
Raleigh, North Carolina
July 11th 1865
Dear Lola,
I received your interesting letter of June 30th & it gives me great pleasure to know you & our “wee darling” are both well. I have at last good news to write you. Our company left Greensboro night before last & is now at Raleigh awaiting the arrival of the regiment to be mustered out of service & sent to New York; so we are going home at last. It will very likely take a week or perhaps two to make out the necessary papers. Then we shall start. It will probably be a month before we get all through & get paid & home, but you will have the satisfaction to know we are on the way. I sent my heavy “duds” in a box by Express to Mother’s so I have nothing to look out for but myself. We turned in our horses and equipments at Greensboro. I am very sorry to say that I have not received all your letters & among the missing are the likenesses. However, I shall take a good look for them at the post office here today.
This evening there is a big circus from New York here and I think after being so long a soldier I can afford to go & see the performance. It was almost unexpected to us to receive an order so soon for the regiment to go home but I have not heard of anyone being sorry yet. I want you to take excellent care of your health through the hot weather & be very particular with little Lucy. I shall keep you posted & as soon as you get this, write me a reply & direct here for it will undoubtedly be some time before we leave. I will try and write you a line every few days so you will know how we progress. Do not expect me too quick. About the 1st of August you may begin to think I am coming.
I haven’t had a letter from Emma since the first of June. It does seem strange that she don’t write. We shall not get paid nor discharged until we get to New York though we shall be mustered out here. I send kisses to little Lucy. She can now expect to see her papa. Give my respects to all our friends & love to your Mother, Connie, Mate, Rose, Charley, Sam &c. Your affectionate, — Ed
P. S. You will find a small amount ($5) enclosed to buy some little fixings so you will look pretty when I come home to see you. — E
Spared & Shared 23 