Civil War Era Letter Written By Union Cavalryman In Union-Occupied Area Of North Carolina on October 15th 1863. Lots of amazing historical topics. Details in comments.

This letter was written by Edwin Thomas Scott. He was born in 1837 in Cuba, New York. In November of 1862, Edwin would enlist in the Union Army and would serve as the commissary Sergeant in Co. E, 12th New York Cavalry. He would later be transferred to Co. C. At the time of writing this letter to his wife, Celora, Edwin and his unit were at Camp Palmer near New Bern, North Carolina. New Bern had been captured by Union forces in 1862, and became a key garrison town and supply base in Union-occupied North Carolina. The 12th NY Cavalry operated here for most of the war, conducting scouting missions, raids, and picket duty.

Edwin’s wife gave birth to their daughter on September 21st 1863, Edwin had not yet met her.

The letter reads:

>“ Camp Palmer near Newbern, N.C. 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 and 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 and contains about five acres. It is perfectly splendid. Long rows of cedar and cypress on the Newbern road which is nearby and 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 and elm trees thirty or forty years old. It is nearly as level as a floor. The next thing back is the mens’ tents and 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 and the old companies that came down last spring begin to act and look very much like troopers. But the five new companies have much to learn yet. I received yours of the 2nd and 5th informing me you were able to write again, was doing well, and was a good “mama.” I don’t want you to think of sending me anything as I have plenty and more than I can possibly carry if we were ordered on a raid. A good trooper wants nothing but his blanket and one suit of clothes and them he wants on his back. He has some thirty pounds in arms and ammunition to carry on his body besdies (carbine, pistol, sabre, belt, straps, and cartridges and box) These he has to carry whenever on duty, mounted or dismounted. His blanket and 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 and brush in one saddle bag, salt meat and hard tack in the other; halter, feed bag and lariat rope hitched to the rings in the saddle, spurs on his boots, bridle rein in his left hand and 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 and it has poured down in torrents every few hours since and 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, and 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 and 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 and 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. “

Edwin would survive the war and would be mustered out at Raleigh in July of 1865. He would return home to his wife and daughter. Edwin would pass away in 1921. His wife, Celora, would pass away in 1915. Their daughter, Lucille, would pass away in 1933.