1862: Frederick J. Scott to Mary Scott

This letter was written by Frederick J. Scott (1842-1865) of Co. E, 47th Pennsylvania Infantry. It was written from Florida not long after Companies E & F successfully captured Jacksonville and the Confederate steamer Gov. Milton docked at Hawkinsville on 5-7 October 1862. After Frederick reenlisted as a veteran, he was taken prisoner at Cedar Creek on 19 Oct. 1864 and died 4 months later on 22 February 1865 in Danville Prison.

[Note: This letter is from the private collection of Richard Weiner and is published by express consent.]


Addressed to Mrs. Mary Scott, Box 441, Easton, Pa.
Postmarked Annapolis, Md.

October 18, 1862

Sunday morning again. Bright, pleasant, & cool with that sober, russet-like aspect which makes the mornings so beautiful. The orange groves are changing their still green for a mellow tint & the fruit itself is now golden hued & tempting. The magnolia’s blossoms are getting thin and the various shrubs of summer begin to feel the touch of Autumn. It is all beautiful and with the solemn tones of the church bells breaking on the ear reminds me of those Sabbath mornings years ago when with a purer heart and happier, I went up to worship with the just. What change has time brought since then! Then a land of peace & unity with no sectional strife to corrode the public trust—no bitter hatred between the brothers of the North & South. Now a land of civil war—of bloodshed, rapine & murder—of sectional strife & contention—of hatred between brothers which will fight to the death—of desolated homes & bereaved parents, orphans & widows, & sorrow & remorse which a generation will not wipe away.


We have been paid. I received $42.00. I enclose $30. I am as sorry as yourself I can send no more. We have two months pay due us yet. Use this as you please. I can only regret I have not more. I hope Hen will send you some yet. Write soon. Yours as ever, — Frederick J. Scott

P. S. We leave tomorrow on another expedition.Give my love to all the boys and keep all you can imagine a soldier sends his mother for yourself. Good night, — F. J. S.


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