LIFE AND LETTERS 
 
 OF 
 
 WILDER DWIGHT, 
 
 LIEUT.-COL. SECOND MASS. INF. VOLS. 
 
 "Do not spend your days in weakly fearing or regretting this or that life, lives 
 whose whole sweetness and value depend upon their opportunities, not on their 
 length." LETTERS, p. 214. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 TICKNOR AND FIELDS. 
 
 1868. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Page 
 BIRTH. ANCESTRY. EARLY LIFE. EXETER ACADEMY. 
 
 SCHOOL AT WEST POINT. HARVARD COLLEGE. CAMBRIDGE 
 LAW SCHOOL. FOREIGN TRAVEL. PROFESSIONAL STUDIES. 
 
 PRACTICE OF THE LAW. FAVORITE RECREATION . .1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MR. LINCOLN S INAUGURATION. FALL OF SUMTER. EFFORTS 
 TO RAISE A REGIMENT FOR THE WAR. JOURNEY TO WASH 
 INGTON. APPROVAL OF THE PROPOSED REGIMENT BY THE 
 SECRETARY OF WAR. LETTERS, DECEMBER 26, 1860- APRIL 
 27, 1861 .... 32 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 APPOINTED MAJOR OF THE SECOND MASSACHUSETTS INFANTRY 
 VOLUNTEERS. THE REGIMENT LEAVES BOSTON. LETTERS 
 FROM MARTINSBURG, BUNKER HILL, AND HARPER S FERRY. 
 JULY 9 -JULY 28, 1861 44 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 LETTERS FROM MARYLAND HEIGHTS. JULY 30- AUGUST 15, 
 1861 61 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 LETTERS FROM CAMP BELOW SANDY HOOK. CAMP STAMPEDE. 
 
 MARYLAND HEIGHTS. BUCKEYESTO WN. ROCKVILLE. 
 WASHINGTON. CAMP NEAR DARNKSTOWN. AUGUST 18- 
 AUGUST 30, 1861 7(5 
 
vi CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LETTERS FROM PLEASANT HILL CAMP, NEAR DARNESTOWN. 
 AUGUST 31 -SEPTEMBER 29,1861 . . . . .90 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 LETTERS FROM WASHINGTON AND PLEASANT HILL CAMP, NEAR 
 DARNESTOWN. OCTOBER 2-OcTonKR 21, 1861 . . .109 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 LETTERS FROM CAMP NEAR CONRAD S FERRY. CAMP NEAR 
 THE LITTLE SENECA. BATTLE OF BALL S BLUFF. OCTO 
 BER 24, 25, 1861 . . . ... . .. . . 120 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LETTERS FROM CAMP NEAR SENECA. OCTOBER 28 -NOVEM 
 BER 16, 1861 . . . . 131 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 LETTERS FROM CAMP NEAR SENECA. NOVEMBER 19 -DE 
 CEMBER 2, 1861 * * * t . . . . . 148 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 LETTERS FROM CAMP HICKS, NEAR FREDERICK. DECEMBER 
 6, 1861 -DECEMBER 29, 1861 . . ... . .165 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 LETTERS FROM CANTONMENT HICKS, NEAR FREDERICK. 
 CHARLESTOWN, VIRGINIA. CAMP NEAR BERRYVILLE. 
 CAMP NEAR WINCHESTER. JANUARY 5 -MARCH 13, 1862. 184 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 LETTERS FROM CAMP NEAR WINCHESTER. WINCHESTER. 
 BATTLE OF WINCHESTER. CAMP BIVOUAC, NEAR STRAS- 
 BURG. CAMP NEAR STRASBURG. CAMP NEAR EDINBURG. 
 MARCH 15- APRIL 13, 1862 211 
 
CONTENTS. Vll 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 LETTERS FROM BIVOUAC NEAR NEW MARKET, VA. CAMP 
 BETWEEN NEW MARKET AND SPARTA. CAMP NEAR HAR- 
 RISONBURG. IN BIVOUAC, OPPOSITE NEW MARKET, VA. 
 APRIL 20 -MAY 9, 1862 234 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 BATTLE OF WILLIAMSBURG. VISIT TO WASHINGTON. GEN 
 ERAL BANKS S RETREAT. TAKEN PRISONER. RETURN TO 
 REGIMENT. MAY 23 -JUNE 5, 1862 246 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 RETURN HOME. PROMOTION. FORTRESS MONROE. RE 
 JOINS REGIMENT. LETTERS FROM CAMP NEAR CULPEPER. 
 BATTLE OF CEDAR MOUNTAIN. LETTERS FROM CAMPS 
 NEAR TENALLYTOWN AND ROCKVILLE. JUNE 5 -SEPTEM 
 BER 11, 1862 270 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 BATTLE OF ANTIETAM. WOUNDED. DEATH. BURIAL. 
 SEPTEMBER 17-19, 1862 289 
 
 APPENDIX .309 
 
LIFE AXD LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BIRTH. ANCESTRY. EARLY LIFE. EXETER ACADEMY. SCHOOL 
 AT WEST POINT. HARVARD COLLEGE. CAMBRIDGE LAW SCHOOL. 
 FOREIGN TRAVEL. PROFESSIONAL STUDIES. PRACTICE OF 
 THE LAW. FAVORITE RECREATION. 
 
 WILDER D WIGHT was born in Springfield, Mas 
 sachusetts, on the 23d of April, 1833. Of Eng 
 lish descent, his family, on both sides, were among the 
 earliest settlers of New England. 
 
 John D wight, of Oxfordshire, England, who settled 
 in Dedham, Massachusetts, in 1636, is described, in 
 the quaint records of the town, as "publicly useful, 
 and a great peacemaker." He brought from Eng 
 land a valuable estate, and dying, in 1659, left the 
 same to his only son, Timothy, who, according to the 
 record, " inherited his estate and virtues, and added 
 to both." Timothy, a cornet of troop in his younger 
 days, went out against the Indians ten times, nine 
 of which he either killed or took them prisoners. 
 He was afterwards a captain of the foot, and then a 
 justice of the peace, and, at his death, in 1717, is de 
 scribed as " a gentleman truly serious and godly, 
 one of an excellent spirit, peaceable, charitable, and 
 a great promoter of the true interests of the church 
 
 and town." 
 
 i 
 
2 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 Nathaniel, eldest son of Timothy, named his eldest 
 son Timothy, who was the father of the Rev. Timothy 
 Dwight, President of Yale College, certainly the 
 most distinguished member of the family. 
 
 Henry, fourth son of the first Timothy, had ten 
 children. His eldest son, Joseph, was a brigadier- 
 general of militia, and prominent in command under 
 Sir William Pepperell, at the taking of Louisburg 
 from the French, June 6th, 1745, and subsequently 
 raised and commanded a regiment sent for the re 
 duction of Ticonderoga. 
 
 Edmund Dwight, brother of Brigadier-General Jo 
 seph Dwight, was the fourth son of Henry, and served, 
 also, at the taking of Louisburg, as an ensign. He 
 afterwards became a captain in His Majesty s service, 
 and died in Halifax at the age of thirty-eight years. 
 
 His eldest son, Jonathan, settled in Springfield, 
 Massachusetts, and had four sons, the second of 
 whom, Jonathan (grad. H. U. 1793), was the father 
 of William Dwight (grad. H. U. 1825), and the grand 
 father of Wilder Dwight, the subject of the present 
 memoir. 
 
 The mother of Wilder Dwight was the daughter 
 of the Hon. Daniel Appleton White (grad. H. U. 
 1797), a descendant of William White, of Norfolk 
 County, England, who settled in Ipswich, Massachu 
 setts, in 1635, and in 1640 removed to Haverhill, 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 He was one of the grantees of the Indian deed of 
 Haverhill, dated November 15th, 1642, which instru 
 ment was, it is said, both written and witnessed by 
 him. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. 6 
 
 It has been thought worth while to record the 
 purely New England origin of Wilder Dwight ; for 
 in him we recognize the principles and habits of 
 thought and life of the New-Englander. 
 
 Yet a more noble ancestry was his. In his jour 
 nal he has himself recorded it, as follows : 
 
 " Illustrious Ancestry. He alone has it who has lived a 
 useful, excellent, and honorable life. Then lie can look 
 back upon the obedient child, the generous youth, the ma 
 ture man, all the ancestors, progenitors of his present self. 
 And they, too, his only ancestry. He began with nothing 1 , 
 he has made everything ; but on dying, he takes his nobility 
 with him, and can never leave it, except as a pleasant mem 
 ory, to his successors." 
 
 He was the second in a family of seven sons, three 
 of whom, besides himself, served with credit in the 
 late war. 
 
 From early childhood he was esteemed a boy of 
 rare promise. But in this he was not remarkable, 
 promising children are the rule, not the exception. 
 His distinction as a child was, that he gave promise 
 of exactly what he afterwards performed. 
 
 Manly, courageous, self-possessed, acute, original, 
 frank, affectionate, generous, reliable, he was in boy 
 hood, not less than in manhood, one in whom to place 
 an absolute trust. Yet, in less vital points, he was no 
 pattern boy. He had a quick and irritable temper, 
 hard for himself to subdue, and hard for others to 
 contend with ; but there were times when one could 
 hardly regret that which led him to such a manly 
 struggle for self-control. Upon this contest he en 
 tered almost in his infancy. Side by side with his 
 
4 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. 
 
 repeated outbursts of angry temper are remembered 
 his early efforts to control it. 
 
 With high health and abounding animal spirits, a 
 somewhat rude and boisterous manner, added to his 
 constitutional irritability, made him often trouble 
 some as a boy. Yet there was a charm about him 
 which more than atoned for it. This charm was due 
 not only to his true, transparent nature, but also to 
 that in his eye and smile, which, from his earliest in 
 fancy to his latest hour, spoke eloquently of the soul 
 within, and was magnetic in its influence upon others. 
 To this was added, under circumstances calculated to 
 call it forth, a gentle consideration for others, which was 
 in striking contrast with his usually brusque and care 
 less manner. 
 
 His drollery was irresistible. Many a reproof did 
 he ward off by it in childhood, many a dark hour did 
 he brighten by it in after years. 
 
 He was uncommonly clear-headed and strong in in 
 tellect, yet he was not a precocious child in the or 
 dinary acceptation of that term. His cleverness was 
 of the kind which has been described as " that of 
 those children who grow up to be clever men ; a 
 cleverness which, as a rule, furnishes fewest anec 
 dotes, makes least show, leaves boys essentially boys, 
 not at all like men." 
 
 His character developed early. He had, even as 
 a little child, a sincere love of right and aversion to 
 wrong, though he did not desire to hear preaching 
 on the subject. 
 
 It was his delight, from early boyhood, to relieve 
 the wants of the poor and suffering. His " acts of 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. 5 
 
 kindness and charity " at that period are no less viv 
 idly remembered than are those of his riper years. 
 
 His eagerness for out-of-door life and sport was 
 never restrained. He grew up under the free air of 
 heaven, and amidst the most inspiring scenery of 
 earth. To both these influences may be traced much 
 that was valuable in his life and character. 
 
 In company with a circle of boys from families of 
 the immediate neighborhood, his playground was re 
 stricted only to the beautiful hill upon which they all 
 lived, where they had the freedom needed for enjoy 
 ment, while they were seldom beyond the eye or ear 
 of some watchful parent. 
 
 Probably no set of boys ever grew up under cir 
 cumstances more favorable to good physical and 
 moral development ; and, in this connection, the 
 thought forces itself upon us, with what added inter 
 est we should have looked out from our windows 
 upon the happy, noisy group, had we then realized 
 for what some of them were in training. 
 
 More than twenty years later, when their coun 
 try s life was in danger, a large portion of them 
 true patriots and soldiers gave themselves body 
 and soul to her service, thus u doing," as has been 
 justly said,* " the highest duty man can do," and 
 alas! too early "dying," some of them,t "the best 
 death man can die." 
 
 * See the remarks of Mr. Ellis, at the meeting of the Suffolk Bar, upon the 
 occasion of the death of Wilder Dwight. Appendix III. 
 
 t Prominent among the sons of Springfield here referred to is Colonel Everett 
 Peabody, of the 25th Missouri Infantry. On the morning of the 6th of April, 
 1862, while commanding a brigade, he fell in the memorable battle of Shiloh, 
 but not until he had, by personal vigilance and valor, done service of " priceless 
 value " to the Union cause. " A more gallant officer, or truer gentleman, has 
 not laid down his life for his country." 
 
6 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 Springfield, at the time to which our record carries 
 us back, was not the thickly populated city it now is. 
 The charming old town had all the advantage of a 
 purely country life, with something remaining of 
 primitive simplicity, to suggest a remembrance of 
 early Puritan days. 
 
 With the descending sun of Saturday evening, the 
 Sabbath commenced. Then the usual week-day oc 
 cupations were laid aside, and, for the children, the 
 Scripture print and the Old Testament story were 
 brought forth, as the appropriate recreation for the 
 evening. 
 
 Only positive illness or tempestuous weather, on 
 Sunday, prevented parents and children from going 
 in company to the house of God for public worship. 
 
 At home, after each of the circle had selected and 
 learned a text of Scripture, the fascinating pages of 
 Pilgrim s Progress, read aloud to the children, made 
 the Sunday hours among the pleasantest of the week. 
 
 Driving, on the sacred day, excepting to and from 
 the " meeting-house," as it was called, was a thing 
 unknown, and those who ventured to depart so far 
 from the prevailing custom as to take a sober, quiet 
 walk with their little ones, before sunset on Sunday 
 afternoon, were looked upon by their elders, if not 
 with condemnation, at least with surprise and regret, 
 that they should be willing to take the lead in setting 
 so questionable an example. 
 
 The artificial excitements which now wait upon 
 the young in the city and its suburbs formed no part 
 of their life in Springfield at that time. The Lyceum 
 lecture, the temperance lecture, the anti-slavery lee- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 7 
 
 ture, the town-meeting, the political caucus, these 
 were the entertainments of our future patriots. 
 Upon no one of them did the circumstances peculiar 
 to his native town exert a more marked influence 
 than they did upon the ever-wakeful, earnest spirit 
 of Wilder D wight. 
 
 As soon as he could speak in sentences, he began to 
 plead for the Sunday privileges, which he perceived 
 were a source of enjoyment to the rest of the house 
 hold, promising, if he might only be allowed to " go 
 to meeting," that, when there, he would " sit still," 
 a thing he was never known to do at home. Before 
 he was quite three years old his wish was granted, 
 He kept his promise, and was always orderly and 
 even reverent in his manner at church. 
 
 The services were short, and in that respect well 
 fitted to secure a child from weariness. The preach 
 ing,* to which, as he grew older, his attention was di 
 rected, was of no ordinary character. Doubtless it 
 was greatly due to this advantage of his boyhood that 
 the subject of religion was of paramount interest and 
 importance to him throughout his life. Good preach 
 ing on Sunday he always esteemed a privilege to be 
 earnestly sought and highly prized. 
 
 At the age of seven years and six months, he be 
 gan to attend political caucuses and conventions with 
 his father, and would give humorous and appreciative 
 accounts of what he heard. 
 
 * That of the Rev. William B. 0. Pcabody, D. D., who died in Springfield 
 on the 28th of May, 1847, after a faithful ministry there of nearly thirty years, 
 in which " he enjoyed the cordial respect and good-will of all his Christian 
 brethren of every name, and the devoted love of those to whom he ministered so 
 long." 
 
8 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. 
 
 At the same age he began to study industriously, 
 and from that time he was a faithful student. 
 
 That was a sober day at his home when he first 
 went from under its roof to fit for college, at Phillips 
 Exeter Academy. 
 
 He was then thirteen years old, and although 
 faults of temper, already mentioned, frequently called 
 for reproof, he had ceased to be regarded merely as a 
 child. He had grown to be a confidential friend and 
 adviser, relied upon alike by his parents and his 
 brothers. When any question arose for decision in 
 the domestic circle, it was to his good sense and good 
 judgment, to his ready sympathy and disinterested 
 effort, that then, as well as later in life, all in 
 stinctively turned. The same fidelity to duty which 
 had made his presence at home so important marked 
 his life at the academy ; where, says the preceptor, 
 " from the beginning to the end of his course, he was 
 a pattern pupil." : 
 
 The following extract from his diary, kept at this 
 time, shows the character of the boy : 
 
 "December 31st, 1846. 
 
 " To-day is the last day of the old year, and in commen 
 cing the new I wish to lay out some rules, in relation to 
 myself, which I will try to observe. 
 
 " In the first place, I will exercise every morning after 
 breakfast until school-time, and after school at night, until 
 supper-time. Secondly, I will study after dinner until 
 school-time, and I will go to my room after supper, and 
 busy myself in studying or in reading a useful book until 
 bed-time. Thirdly, while in school I will try to busy my 
 self about my lessons, and, at any rate, behave in an orderly 
 manner. 
 
 * Sec Appendix II. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 9 
 
 " And I will observe strictly these rules, except when it is 
 right for me not to do so ; that is, at such times as I may 
 think it right, though I may err in that opinion. 
 
 " And may I also try to correct my defects of temper. 
 May I watch every word that comes from my mouth ; and 
 may I let my yea be yea, and my nay be nay ; and may I 
 not merely write these things down and think no more of 
 them, but may I always keep them in my mind, and remem 
 ber them most of all when I am angry, as that is the time 
 to control myself." 
 
 While he was at the academy, and indeed through 
 out his life, whenever he was absent from home, it 
 was his habit to send to his family a letter containing 
 an account of each week as it passed. 
 
 He now writes : " I will try to profit by your ad 
 vice as to my companions, and to associate only with 
 those that are good." To this resolution he faithfully 
 adhered. In no way did he more clearly show his 
 purity of principle and purpose than in the choice of 
 his friends. 
 
 On being directed to select his own subject for 
 composition, he decided upon one which, as we look 
 back upon his whole course through life, is character 
 istic : " Confidence is conqueror of men victorious 
 both over them and in them." 
 
 Not less does the following extract from one of 
 his letters of this period foreshadow the future man. 
 The principles which he laid down so forcibly when 
 a schoolboy of fifteen were the source of his strength 
 and success throughout his life : 
 
 " No man ever did anything in this world, however 
 trifling, unless he felt confident of his ability to do it, and 
 
10 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. 
 
 unless he entered upon it with a cheerful and firm deter 
 mination to accomplish his end, let come what will come." 
 
 At the end of two years he was fitted for col 
 lege ; but, not wishing to enter so early, he passed 
 six months at the private military school of Mr. 
 Z. J. D. Kinsley, at West Point, in order to secure 
 the advantage of the military drill, while at the 
 same time he continued his classical studies and 
 received instruction in French and mathematics. 
 In May, 1849, preparatory to entering college, he 
 returned to Exeter for a review of his studies. In 
 the following July he writes in his diary : 
 
 " On Monday, July 16th, I was examined for entrance 
 to the Freshman class, and after due trepidation and effort, 
 on Tuesday > at about 4 P. M., I received my admittatur, 
 overjoyed at finding it an unconditional one." 
 
 He took high rank as a scholar, and maintained 
 it throughout his college course. The following ex 
 tract from his diary shows by what means he ac 
 complished this result: 
 
 " March, 1850. .... I am somewhat of i a dig, 
 I suppose ; and though the character is rather an igno 
 minious one in college, it is in so good repute elsewhere, 
 and among wiser persons than Freshmen, or even Sopho 
 mores, that I shall endeavor always to deserve the title. 
 
 " Natural geniuses that is, lazy good scholars are 
 few and far between ; I shall, therefore, estimate myself as 
 a very common sort of a person, and, as I desire to excel, I 
 shall choose the way which seems to promise success." 
 
 Among the advantages which he enjoyed in Cam 
 bridge, that which he valued most highly was the 
 instruction received, in lectures and recitations, on 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 11 
 
 the evidences of natural and revealed religion, from 
 the Rev. Dr. Walker. Not less did he value the 
 pulpit ministrations of this distinguished preacher, 
 to which, at stated intervals, it was his privilege to 
 listen. 
 
 In the journal which he kept during his college 
 life, and while he was in the Law School, a large 
 space is given to abstracts of Dr. Walker s sermons. 
 
 In one of the earliest of these occurs the follow 
 ing sentence ; it indicates the influence which these 
 teachings exerted upon his character : " You must 
 lay a foundation of religious feeling and principle, 
 upon which to build, in after years, as long as you 
 live." 
 
 At another time he writes: "Sunday, January 
 4:th, 1852. Heard Dr. Walker preach from the text, 
 Ecc. 8th, llth : Because sentence against an evil 
 work is not executed speedily, therefore the heart 
 of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil. " 
 After a long abstract of the sermon, he says : 
 
 " This is the sermon on which I may well found the first 
 resolutions and actions of the opening year. All my life has 
 been a series of violations of law, though I have ever had a 
 theoretic veneration of it. Memory runs back over a sad 
 list, and time passes on swift wings. To-morrow is to-day 
 ere it is spoken, and yesterday was lost in irresolution and 
 weakness. Now now now ! God God God ! Eter 
 nity eternity eternity ! Action in the one, mercy and 
 justice in the second ! Pain or pleasure, joy or grief in the 
 last ! Let me remember, then, that though a sinner do 
 evil an hundred times and his days be prolonged, yet surely 
 I know that it shall be well with them that fear God, which 
 fear before him ; that no man knoweth the ways of God, 
 
12 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 they are past finding out. Then I will trust in the good 
 ness which is inscrutable but inexhaustible. I will apply 
 my heart to know, to search, and to seek out wisdom, and 
 to know the wickedness of folly. And may these thoughts 
 glow in my mind ; may they rouse my energies till I seek 
 to embody them in my actions, and make their spirit felt in 
 my life, and may not these aspirations be transient and 
 shadowy. " 
 
 Although he was eminently practical in the bent 
 of his mind, he was keenly sensitive to the beauti 
 ful. After writing at length upon the subject, in 
 his journal, he says : "The true love of beauty, let 
 it be my guide in all my pursuits. The love of 
 real and true beauty must excite a love for purity, 
 excellence, and worth." 
 
 In reply to one of his brothers, who had asked 
 his advice as to a course of reading, he says, after 
 giving a list of books which it is well to read, if 
 they relish : " I do not think, so long as one avoids 
 vicious and immoral books, that it is so much a ques 
 tion what particular books he had better read, as it 
 is an imperative duty to read something. Eead, 
 keep reading, and you will not regret it." 
 
 He faithfully followed the advice which he gave to 
 his brother. His love of books amounted to a pas 
 sion. While he was in College and in the Law 
 School he collected a valuable library of one thou 
 sand volumes. He would deny himself any other 
 indulgence for the sake of possessing a fine edition 
 of a good book, or a rare copy of an antique ; and it 
 was only when the temptation came in that form 
 that he was ever led to incur a debt. 
 
 After a visit to his grandfather s library, early in 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 13 
 
 his college life, he writes : " I feasted myself on the 
 covers and title-pages of many old books. I could 
 do nothing more, for to select was impossible among 
 so many beauties, so I was forced briefly to admire 
 all. To me there is something pleasant and beautiful 
 in the mere excellence of print and paper. I have 
 a sort of blind veneration for these two powerful 
 agents considered by themselves ; and therefore en 
 joy old books, fine editions, and rich bindings, even 
 when I can go no farther than the outside." 
 
 In his journal we find a just tribute to a beloved 
 and revered relative. It is inserted here as indi 
 cating the struggle for self-mastery which formed 
 so large a part of his life : 
 
 " I believe that there is more true philosophy in cher 
 ishing the agreeable thoughts and fostering an unruffled 
 spirit than in any self-discipline. In some moods, nothing 
 would disturb me ; in others, every occurrence is an annoy 
 ance. But how can this calm be maintained ? It is the 
 fruit of many struggles, the clear settling of a much- 
 troubled and turbid spirit. 
 
 " Never was I more struck by the beauty of such a char 
 acter than in , who has been staying with us. Her life 
 
 has been one of a great deal of trial and severe discipline. 
 She is now a ministering angel of content and peace. Her 
 presence is a benediction. Her voice, as she utters her 
 simple, plain, sincere words of interest, sympathy, or advice, 
 is a messenger of joy. Hardly a harsh or disagreeable word 
 or act lias disturbed our home while she has hallowed it." 
 
 The following record, in his diary, contains the 
 secret of his own success in life : 
 
 " The more I read, and the more I see, the more inevita- 
 
14 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 bly I am led to the conclusion, that all men who leave any 
 thing behind them, and whose lives are, in a true sense, 
 respectable and successful, are the incessant, earnest work 
 ers ; those who propose an object in living, and whose 
 aims all tend to the accomplishment of that object." 
 
 Not less characteristic of him, from the beginning 
 to the end of his short life, is the following, on 
 another page, quoted from Dr. Walker : " Success, 
 ultimate success, in whatever a man undertakes, de 
 pends almost entirely yes, I believe I may say 
 almost entirely on forecast and perseverance ; on 
 that peculiar constitution and training which dispose 
 one, in the first place, to mark out for himself the 
 course he will pursue, and then fire him with a 
 resolution to follow it up or die." 
 
 The year 1853 the last of his college life 
 was full of interesting experience to him ; yet his 
 journal,* during this and the following year, after 
 which he ceased to write in it, contains only ab 
 stracts of Dr. Walker s sermons, with occasional ex 
 tracts from books he was reading. These all indi 
 cate the serious thoughtfulness of his inner life, while 
 memory holds a bright record of his healthy oiu> 
 ward progress, during those years, in all that was 
 needed to prepare him for a happy and useful fu 
 ture. 
 
 On leaving college, he entered the Law School at 
 Cambridge, with ardent enthusiasm for the profes 
 sion. There, too, he took a prominent position, re- 
 
 * It should be said that neither the journal here mentioned, nor that kept 
 during his boyhood, from which we have quoted, was ever seen by any eyes but 
 his own, until after his death. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 15 
 
 ceiving the first prize in 1855. On leaving the Law 
 School, he passed fourteen months in foreign travel. 
 He sometimes spoke with regret of this interruption 
 to his studies, because it placed him further from the 
 attainment of the main purpose of his life. 
 
 He first visited England, proceeding thence through 
 Germany to Switzerland. There, after some days of 
 " hard mountain and glacier climbing," he met with 
 a sad check to his progress, in the misfortune of a 
 kick from a mule. Of his characteristic way of meet 
 ing this disaster, the friend * who accompanied him 
 wrote at the time : " D wight, who bore his accident 
 with the heroism of a soldier and the calmness of a 
 philosopher, frequently exchanged expressions of de 
 light and wonder at the wild scenery about us, for 
 those which disappointment and pain would have 
 prompted." 
 
 A more serious interruption to his travels awaited 
 him. While still suffering from lameness, he was, to 
 use his own language, " thrown violently on his back, 
 as with the sudden gripe of a strong arm," by typhoid 
 fever. When thus seized, he was at a little hotel at 
 Giessbach, which looked directly out upon the cascade, 
 whose constant fall was very irritating. Soon, how 
 ever, through the generous hospitality of strangers, he 
 was removed to a quiet and cool apartment in a house 
 farther up the valley, where he was, as he said, " the 
 guest of an honorable man and a counsellor. " f 
 
 # Charles Wentworth Upham, Jr., son of Hon. Charles W. Uphara, and 
 nephew of Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes. " Fairest and gentlest of his race," he 
 died on the 2d of April, 1860, beloved and lamented by all who knew him. 
 
 t " Monsieur Von Rappard was, for nearly half a century, Privy Counsellor 
 of Prussia, and for some years President of the Council, a man of wealth and 
 
16 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 There, under the devoted care of three friends * 
 of his college days, two of whom came most unex 
 pectedly to his relief, he realized that to the darkest 
 experiences of human life there is a bright side. The 
 friendships thus cemented, never to be interrupted 
 but by death, made even this period of suffering a 
 pleasant remembrance to him ever after. 
 
 As soon as his strength was so far restored as to 
 admit of his being again a traveller, he left Switz 
 erland for Paris, whence he writes : 
 
 " This life abroad is very agreeable, but I am beginning to 
 have my misgivings about its usefulness. I wish I had more 
 faith in that expansion of mind/ etc., which is to result in 
 sensibly from my present life. Perhaps when I begin to 
 move again my mind will change, but just at present, I am 
 pining for a quiet settlement in Boston, with my few irons 
 in my feeble fire, and a professional progress that would tell. 
 Whole weeks of palaces, pictures, monuments, etc., are agree 
 able, but is not that all ? " 
 
 After repeated visits to the courts of Paris, he 
 says : 
 
 " It is singular to note the same manners and ways in the 
 French courts that I have seen at home ; and, also, the same 
 style and expression of face. I think the Law has an influ 
 ence upon the features, so that a company of lawyers, se 
 lected from all countries, would look more or less alike. 
 
 " It seems to lengthen, sharpen, and wither the face ; not 
 that there are not hundreds of fat, round-faced ones, but 
 
 high station. In 1848, his family, from their republican tendencies, became fu 
 gitives. They came to Switzerland, and made Berne their winter residence, 
 and purchased the Giessbach for a summer retreat." 
 
 * Charles Wentworth Upham, Jr., Grad. H. U. 1852 ; Horace Howard Fur- 
 ness, Grad. H. U. 1854 ; Atherton Blight, Grad. H. U. 1854. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 17 
 
 that in such cases Nature has been too strong for the Law, 
 or, perhaps, the latter has never contested the point fairly." 
 
 Again, he writes : 
 
 " You would be amused and instructed by the economy 
 of Paris. I vised to think that, theoretically, you had some 
 thing of it yourself, and that, under favorable circumstances, 
 you might develop a system which would render six boys a 
 smaller encumbrance than they generally prove ; but you 
 must come to Paris to correct the many extravagances 
 of even your theory. Such a thing as a breakfast or a din 
 ner is hardly to be got in Paris, except where foreigners have 
 introduced their own comforts or extravagances. But you 
 can purchase all the component parts of any meal, and regu 
 late the proportions at pleasure. It will come to you with 
 a price affixed to every fragment, and your total, which may 
 be great or small, with your appetite or liberality, will al 
 ways be composed of an infinity of little items whose sepa 
 rate feebleness is no preparation for their combined force. 
 
 " The total, like the bundle of sticks, is strong enough, 
 but one has great contempt for the two-penny twigs which 
 compose it. To a practised eye, the table, as it is spread be 
 fore one, represents at once a feast and its price. A nation 
 which begins by adopting a currency which divides a franc 
 into one hundred parts, and which thus magnifies small 
 amounts by calling ten cents fifty centimes, which goes on to 
 make every meal a sum in arithmetic, and forces economy 
 upon one by affixing its separate penalty to every petty ex 
 travagance, may easily become, under the slightest pressure, 
 most accurately and, to an uninitiated eye, rather painfully 
 economical. My landlady rose, last week, a few centimes 
 on the bread, and informed me of it with an orotund em 
 phasis intended to frighten me out of my appetite. I was 
 able, on reflection, to face the total with Yankee equanimity. 
 
 " By dividing their money into such minute fractions, 
 
 they can register every item of expense, affix its value to 
 2 
 
18 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 every article, and speak respectfully of amounts for which 
 we have no name." 
 
 When lie was about to leave Paris for Spain., he 
 wrote : 
 
 " Leaving Paris calls for the same preparations and effort 
 as leaving home. You get quietly and comfortably settled 
 here, and to recur to discomforts and vexations of a port 
 manteau and a carpet-bag requires resolution and energy. 
 My French teacher, whose Parisian habits of morning coffee, 
 eleven o clock dejeune, and evening dinner, leave no want 
 unsatisfied, and no aspiration unattained, cannot understand 
 why Monsieur D wight, who has such a joli appartement aveo 
 ses bons amis, and with the facilities and delights of Paris at 
 his elbow, can think of going to seek annoyance and irregu 
 larity in inhospitable Spain. 
 
 " But he yields gracefully to the separation, and has just 
 been making his profuse and obsequious adieux with endless 
 repetition of l bon voyage* au plaisir de vous revoirj and 
 
 From Madrid he writes more confidently of the ad 
 vantages of travelling than he did, during the previ 
 ous month, from Paris. 
 
 " What a stimulus being on the spot is ! I long to read a 
 hundred books about early Spanish history, and I constantly 
 feel how little I am prepared for travel. Perhaps I never 
 should become much more so by waiting at home, and it is 
 in this belief that I reconcile myself to staying now. I read 
 and pick up whatever I can, keeping my eyes open, my mind 
 alive, and my body active. There is no discipline better for 
 the development of energy, physical and mental, than vigor 
 ous travelling. You have uncertainties before you, are 
 bothered with difficulties, thrown upon the resources of a 
 ready invention, and enticed and rewarded by novelties. 
 Every day furnishes new opportunities, kindles fresh curi- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 19 
 
 osity, and opens further vistas. The mere routine of living 
 changes with almost every change of place. The daily walk 
 teaches a thousand things and explains innumerable ques 
 tions This evening, I have been querying a good 
 
 deal about the wisdom of running away from home, and I 
 incline, now and then, to question it ; but, on the whole, I 
 believe the time lost is much more than compensated, and 
 I am quite content that the past is as it is. 
 
 " About the future I cannot yet feel entirely decided, but 
 I beg you to believe that, however I act, my good purposes 
 for becoming an active and, in my degree, a useful man 
 are not relinquished, if I allow them to seem slightly post 
 poned." 
 
 Of the " mode of life in Spain " he says : 
 
 " They practise a simplicity and severity of economy and 
 abstemiousness in this unhappy country which astonishes a 
 New-England housekeeper. Take the dinner, for example. 
 I am told that in most well-regulated Spanish families it re 
 solves itself into what we should call soup ; that is, a stew 
 is made of beef, pork, beans, and, perchance, cabbage. The 
 juice of these ingredients opens the dinner, while the 
 viands and vegetables are served up as separate courses. 
 In that way you have the semblance of a dinner, the form 
 of recurring courses, but, in truth, the goodness was all 
 boiled out, and has been eaten in the soup. This dish of 
 beef which has yielded itself up, heart and soul, to some 
 former pottage, and beans which have exhausted their 
 strength in support of the same alliance, is the invariable 
 accompaniment of every dinner. 
 
 " Like many other Spanish institutions, it presents the 
 faint shadow of former greatness, and mocks the senses with 
 a show of nutrition whose substance vanished in some former 
 age. It is the tattered cloak of some bygone Don, and ill 
 conceals the poverty and rags which remain. In short, I 
 think that the regeneration of Spain must commence by the 
 
20 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 introduction of roast beef and boiled mutton. How low 
 must that nation have fallen which can feast itself upon the 
 degraded and effete shreds of a once rich and juicy roasting- 
 piece, whose only birthright is a mess of pottage ! 
 
 " My guide-book invaluable prompter to astute observa 
 tions says that the people of Spain eat to live, but do not 
 live to eat. I suppose the truth to be, that, except under the 
 pressure of a harsh necessity, they are very much like their 
 neighbors, and love a good thing when they can get it. The 
 truth is, they are poor." 
 
 Of a visit to Malaga he says : 
 
 " I wandered outside the town, and seeing a pretty chapel 
 on the summit of a hill, followed the path, which had fre 
 quent white crosses as stations and resting-places for devout 
 pilgrims. On my way up I met a lady, followed by her ser 
 vant, who were slowly picking their way over the sharp stones 
 which strewed the path. My ignorance was attributing 
 their slow and difficult descent to thin shoes, when a close 
 inspection showed me that the evil consisted in a total want 
 of that protection. They took their penance gingerly, how 
 ever, and went as lightly and smoothly along the hard path 
 of repentance as its steepness and stoniness permitted. The 
 atonement seemed harsh, and their poor white feet were 
 well punished for any former wanderings. They passed me 
 muttering prayers and devoutly watching their steps ; and I 
 thought, as I looked after them, what a coarse and clumsy 
 expedient the poor women had put their faith in." 
 
 After leaving Malaga he met " on board the trans 
 port ship Sovereign," going to Gibraltar, some Cri 
 mean officers, in whose account of their adventures 
 he became greatly interested. After the pleasant 
 hours passed with them he writes, with no premoni 
 tion of his own future : 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 21 
 
 " It brings one much nearer the horrors of war to meet a 
 few men fresh from its experiences, than to read a great 
 deal of graphic description. And we realized the sadness 
 which follows many of those young officers home, when our 
 Irish friend could not speak, except with tears, of the loss of 
 a brother officer who had been his tent companion." 
 
 In looking back upon Spain, where some of the 
 pleasantest days of his wanderings were passed in the 
 renewed companionship of the friends who had nursed 
 him so tenderly in Switzerland, the " Giessbach 
 Club/ as he says Upham calls it, he writes: 
 
 " It is singular to recollect the difference between my 
 feelings on entering and on leaving Spain. Even its dis 
 comforts have lost all their harshness, and many of its an 
 noyances I shall regret." 
 
 After an interesting tour through Italy, he joined 
 his friends of the Giessbach Club again in Constan 
 tinople. With them he visited Balaklava, Sebasto- 
 pol, the Malakoff, and the Eedan. He speaks of 
 finding himself by the grave of the French soldiers 
 who were killed in the attack on the Malakoff. " At 
 its head," he says, " is a cross bearing the inscription : 
 6 Sth Septembre, 1855. Unis pour la victoire, R&unis 
 par la mort. Du soldat c est la gloire, Des braves 
 c est le sort. " 
 
 From Constantinople he went to Athens, and thence, 
 a second time, to Paris, whence he wrote : 
 
 " Time here is beguiled of all its power, and slips lightly 
 away ; at least to that male portion of humanity who are not 
 condemned to an existence of shopping and dressmakers. 
 Ladies work harder here, suffer more, and are still stronger 
 than I could have believed. The choice, too, is so extensive 
 
22 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 that it ought to be distracting. I called the other morning 
 upon Mrs. . She was seated in the midst of an enor 
 mous pile of lace, embroideries, pocket-handkerchiefs, etc., 
 in a perfect labyrinth of francs and phrases which my limited 
 French could not achieve. Standing near her, awaiting the 
 exit of the handkerchiefs, was a pliant, plausible, apologetic 
 Frenchman, loaded with black lace, and holding out one 
 piece very temptingly to entice her away from the mou- 
 choirs. On the other side, a nice, natty little milliner, with 
 that marvellous union and harmony of ribbon and lace, 
 called a head-dress in English and a coif something or 
 other in French, in one hand, and a bewildering array of 
 bandboxes at her side, was awaiting her turn. In a corner 
 was an artist trying to obtain another sitting for his picture, 
 and my own visit concerned a pair of slippers which I had 
 
 purchased for the fair Mrs. in Constantinople. This 
 
 was the tableau upon which the Doctor entered who has 
 been trying for the last two weeks to restore her to her 
 former health. I thought, from the expression of his face, 
 that if he knew of a purgative which would act upon these 
 various imps of fashion it would have been his first prescrip 
 tion. This is the way people travel in Europe for their 
 health, with the other aggravations of Paris dinners, an oc 
 casional theatre, or a tedious reunion. I have been led, in 
 view of all this, to consider how much mental excitement 
 and physical prostration is every day represented by the toi 
 lettes of the Boulevard. It is a sad problem, for there does 
 not seem enough domestic tranquillity left after the subtrac 
 tion to furnish that blessing to more than one family in a 
 hundred, without considering the other and numerous drafts 
 upon the meagre remainder which must result from other 
 causes. Yet those things are vastly pretty. In face of all 
 these drawbacks, I still think that a well-dressed woman is 
 the highest effort of modern civilization." 
 
 After a run through England and Scotland, he re- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 23 
 
 turned home in the summer of 1856, and resumed 
 his studies in the office of the Hon. Caleb Gushing, 
 Attorney-General of the United States. Soon after 
 reaching Washington he wrote : 
 
 " I have changed my boarding-place during the past week, 
 and I have been very much amused with the politics of my 
 new table. The patron of the establishment is a broken- 
 down judge ; ruined himself, I believe, with copper, has got 
 an amiable, mild wife and twelve children. Under these ad 
 vantages and disadvantages, having always professed sound 
 Democratic principles, the Land Office opened its doors and 
 received him to a small salary. The wife and children the 
 latter for the most part daughters aid the fallen fortunes of 
 the family by keeping boarders. They gather around their 
 board merchants who have failed in everything but Democ 
 racy, and are therefore clerks, and young men whose fa 
 thers or uncles have aided the cause, and one or two army 
 officers. The table, however, takes its tone from the govern 
 ment clerks, whose life outside of the routine of office is one 
 prolonged echo of democratic principles. I presume there 
 are one hundred tables in Washington which assemble the 
 same motley crowd and are enlivened with the same mono 
 tone of politics We have several quaint oddities 
 
 whose conversation is agreeable. They are full of the gos 
 siping history of the past twenty years, personal anecdotes 
 of celebrated men and famous debates, so that one picks 
 up a great deal of entertainment ; at the expense, however, 
 of no little loss of time. These fellows are confirmed loafers, 
 and chat away their leisure with great success. I have the 
 example of the Attorney-General as a corrective. He is at 
 his office before seven, and does not see his bed until the 
 small hours of the next morning. I do not see how, with 
 out sleep, without recreation or diversion, he sustains the 
 immense labor which he does. He looks young, too, 
 through it all, ancl is keen and lively as if he were thirty." 
 
24 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 At the end of two months, lie returned to Boston, 
 and continued his studies in the office of the Hon. 
 E. R Hoar and Horace Gray, Esq. Here he not 
 only enjoyed the best possible professional advan 
 tages, but he had also the happiness of forming 
 friendships by which his after life was greatly en 
 riched. 
 
 In January, 1857, he writes to his friend Ftirness : 
 
 " If you could see a young man getting up under the first 
 faint symptoms of dawn, breakfasting, and rushing to town 
 by steam, sitting down in an office in Court Street, and 
 wearing through the days of preparation with no definite 
 idea of what he is preparing for, rushing off again under 
 cover of twilight, and dining after his labors, from a habit 
 formed abroad ! if, I say, you could observe this phenome 
 non daily, if you could see him moving in obedience to 
 an impulse which knows no relenting, you might have the 
 friendliness to hope that he was on the way to something 
 good and desirable, but you could not help shivering at the 
 thought that the way was long, the night was cold. 
 
 " My dear fellow, the law is the perfection of human rea 
 son when you begin to read it, while you keep away from 
 men and affairs. But the closer you come to men and 
 things, the less perfect it grows to you." 
 
 Again, two months later, he says : 
 
 " If you have any curiosity about me, I can say for myself 
 that I am learning to labor and to wait, in true lawyer-like 
 fashion." 
 
 In his diary of the summer of 1857 are the follow 
 ing records : " Saturday, July ISth. Took office at. 
 No. 35 Court Street." And, again, " Monday, Sep 
 tember 2Sth. Sign up. Office open." 
 
LTFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 25 
 
 In January, 1858, he writes to an absent brother : 
 
 " My business swells by little rivulets and drippings, and 
 I am exceeding my expectations of success." 
 
 Again, he says : 
 
 " It so happens that my practice gets on swimmingly. I 
 am afraid of a lull, but the wind holds remarkably." 
 
 His early success was, doubtless, greatly clue to the 
 confidence in his ability with which he inspired his 
 friend Judge Abbott, who at once employed him as 
 junior counsel in important cases, and of whose gener 
 ous kindness he never ceased to speak with gratitude. 
 
 In addressing the Supreme Judicial Court, upon 
 the occasion of the death of his departed friend,* 
 Judge Abbott says : 
 
 " I can say in reference to my appreciation of him what I 
 know you will appreciate as the highest evidence in my 
 judgment of his qualifications as a lawyer, that I have 
 come up before you and your associates, the tribunal 
 which I most respect above human tribunals, depending 
 entirely upon briefs furnished by my associate, this young 
 man. 
 
 "I have trusted, beginning with the first cause he ever 
 had occasion to try after being admitted to the bar, 
 trusted, what I should rarely do, the entire preparation of 
 causes to him, and sat down to the trial of them without 
 any personal attention to the preparation myself. That, Sir, 
 is the highest possible testimony I can give, as to my own 
 belief, as to his qualifications and prospects." 
 
 In the spring of 1859 he became the partner of 
 Horace Gray, Esq., in whose office he had formerly 
 been a student. 
 
 * See Appendix III. 
 
26 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 The relation which Judge Gray held to him, afford 
 ing opportunity for intimate acquaintance, gives pecu 
 liar value to his estimate of him, both as a lawyer 
 and as a man. From the warm tribute paid him by 
 this valued friend, at the meeting of the Suffolk Bar,* 
 upon the occasion of his death, we extract the fol 
 lowing : 
 
 " My acquaintance with him began when, introduced by 
 the gentleman who has just spoken, he applied to enter 
 my office as a student when I was about to form a connec 
 tion in practice with the present Mr. Justice Hoar. I had 
 occasion to hear all his arguments upon questions of law 
 before the Supreme Court. 
 
 " And after he had become my partner, it was in his 
 room that the first steps were taken toward getting up the 
 Second Massachusetts Regiment, of which so much has 
 been already said. 
 
 " And I can truly say, that, from the beginning of our 
 acquaintance, my love, my respect, and my admiration for 
 him went on increasing to the end. 
 
 " If I may be permitted to judge, from the assistance I 
 derived from him, first as a student and afterwards as an 
 associate, and from having been present at the argument of 
 nearly all the questions of law which were argued before the 
 full bench of the Supreme Court while he was at the Bar, I 
 should find it hard to name one of his age who was better 
 grounded in the principles of the law. And I think I may 
 say, that I have never known any young man who combined, 
 in such just and equal proportions, the theory to be learned 
 from the books with a readiness of practical application to 
 the facts of cases as they came up. 
 
 " It has been said here to-day, that his judgment was un 
 commonly mature for his years, and that is true. But it is 
 
 * See Appendix III. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. -27 
 
 not all. He did not rest satisfied with what he had attained. 
 As he grew older, he improved, not only in experience and 
 in soundness of judgment, but in breadth of view and 
 height of aim, and in generous consideration of the efforts 
 of others not so high in their aims or so fortunate in their 
 faculties as himself. He had no mean spirit of rivalry. He 
 ran, not to pass others in the race, but to reach the goal ; 
 and he would have run the same race if no others had run 
 
 with him 
 
 " To those who really knew him, his warmth of feeling 
 was not less remarkable than his purity of principle and 
 his strength of character. None but his intimate friends 
 knew how much of his time was taken up in acts of kind 
 ness and charity." 
 
 The " acts of kindness and charity " here men 
 tioned were the most interesting feature of his pro 
 fessional life to those who watched his progress with 
 something like solicitude, lest the practice of the law, 
 so often believed to exert a hardening influence, 
 added to the success which seemed to attend every 
 thing he undertook, should induce a spirit of selfish 
 ness in place of the readiness for disinterested effort 
 which, from early boyhood, had been one of his great 
 est attractions. 
 
 This anxiety was relieved, as it was seen that his 
 very profession led him to " weep with them that wept," 
 and to " rejoice with them that did rejoice." Most 
 precious are the memories of him at that period ; 
 when, his heart full of generous impulse and kind af 
 fections, he went forth on his errands of mercy, to 
 " feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to visit the 
 stranger, the sick, and in prison." 
 
 One of the most beautiful traits of his manhood, 
 
28 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 which greatly endeared him at home, was his sym 
 pathy with the youngest members of the household. 
 Whatever were his own occupations and pleasures, 
 he was never unmindful of theirs. He entered into 
 their feelings, and made their interests his own. 
 Especially did he enjoy doing everything in his 
 power to make their childhood happy. 
 
 When the annual festivals came round, it was for 
 their sakes that he welcomed them. No one now re 
 maining in the once unbroken family circle can ever 
 forget how on Christmas Eve, after " the little boys," 
 as they were called, were safely in bed, he would 
 appear in the parlor, his face bright with smiles, 
 his arms laden with gifts which it had been his pleas 
 ure to procure, and which it was then his pleasure to 
 arrange for them in anticipation of the coming day. 
 
 Throughout his life he took delight in children. 
 When, after a fatiguing day in the practice of his 
 profession, he returned home worn and weary, he 
 used to say that nothing so rested and refreshed him 
 as a good frolic with a child. 
 
 There are others, besides those of his own family, 
 whom he left in childhood and youth, some since 
 grown, others fast growing, into womanhood and 
 manhood, who remember him as one to whom they 
 looked up with respect, yet who never felt too far 
 beyond them in years to join in their sports, and 
 to sympathize in their interests and pursuits. 
 
 In one household, where he was most familiarly 
 welcomed, it was said, after his death : 
 
 " Everything we do seems to have some association with 
 nim. To-night we are reminded of the interest he showed 
 in the children s recitations of the catechism. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 29 
 
 " One Sunday evening is particularly remembered, when, 
 in the absence of their father, the children brought out the 
 big Bible and laid it before him, and told him he must be 
 father ; and he sat down and read with them all the Sunday 
 evening chapters, with as much interest and earnestness as 
 if it had been his own family circle." 
 
 His favorite recreation to which, from the time 
 he entered college, lie gave some weeks of every 
 summer was found in camping out for hunting 
 and fishing among the forests and lakes of the Adi- 
 rondacks or the White Mountains. 
 
 His high enjoyment of this rough life in the woods 
 is characteristically expressed in the following extract 
 from a letter written in the course of an expedition on 
 foot through the White Mountains : 
 
 " I do not propose to give you anything more than a 
 glance at ten days very full of work and play, and very rich 
 in adventure and bracing health. There is a vital cordial 
 in this northern air which justifies almost any amount of 
 panegyric. Think of toiling seven or eight hours through 
 the woods, over what is called a logging path, leaping over 
 stones, avoiding, or failing to avoid, stumps and trees, un 
 dergrowth and overgrowth, up over hills, down through 
 swamps, wet by showers, drenched to the skin at the very 
 moment when the dinner, trout, just caught from the brook, 
 was beginning to bubble and sputter over the fire, eating 
 it, at last, half- cooked and wet, sleeping in the open air 
 on hemlock-boughs, before a fire glowing and crackling 
 through the night with all the glare and sparkle of birch and 
 oak, waking to a bath in the brook, and an expedition, in 
 pursuit of breakfast, to some stream before the mists of 
 morning have uncovered the sleeping lake, or while they 
 and the heavens are lighting up with that glory of sunrise 
 which no one ever enjoyed as he who met it alone and rising 
 
30 LIFE AND LETTEES OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 from no bed. Or, again, rising at midnight to a moonlight 
 clear, calm, glorious, etc., etc. This is incoherent, nonsensi 
 cal, anything you will, but I have had a week of it, varied 
 with pleasure and disappointment, success and failure, great 
 luck in fishing, no luck in shooting, but full of sport and life 
 and health. 
 
 " To tread with a sensation of leg, to strike with a sensa 
 tion of arm, to thrill with a quickness and buoyancy of 
 life, is the boon of great worth which comes of such a trip 
 To write without grammar or sequence is one of its fatal 
 consequences. Life in the woods, the minimum of con 
 venience and comfort, and, at the same time, the minimum 
 of desire and need. The few necessities more than sup 
 plied. Every spring is your fountain, every brook holds 
 your food, the whole forest for your fuel, the nearest bush 
 gives you a pot-hook, a crane, and a spit 
 
 " I need not say that I have enjoyed the sensation of 
 perfect health and animal vigor, and the exhilaration of 
 the life very much." 
 
 For several successive years he visited his chosen 
 haunts in " the forest primeval " of the Adirondack^. 
 
 In one dwelling, at the foot of the Upper Saranac, 
 where year after year he stopped to be fitted out for 
 camp life, his memory is cherished as one would 
 hardly expect it to be beyond his own home. 
 " When I heard of his death/ said the kind hostess, 
 " it made me sick, and I think I have shed more 
 tears for him than for any relation I ever lost. I 
 know it is wrong to mourn so for him ; but though 
 two years have passed, every spot in the house seems 
 to bring him to my mind, and I can t be reconciled to 
 the thought that I shall never see him here again." 
 Thus did he impress himself upon all with whom he 
 had to do. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 31 
 
 During his last expedition of the kind, in August, 
 1860, he wrote gayly : 
 
 " CAMP CONTENT, FORKED LAKE, August 25, 1860. 
 
 " This letter comes from our pleasant camping-ground, 
 and its date may indicate that the week here has flown 
 
 on even wing There is little enough to write you in 
 
 the way of news. It is the glad tidings of no news to 
 which I am listening with great tranquillity. A fly skipping 
 lightly over the water, and anon a trout rising snappishly and 
 spinning away with the hook. The same, subsequently fried, 
 not the hook. A buck leaping into the lake, and swim 
 ming wildly right into the muzzle of a rifle, a subsequent 
 honorable career of steaks and roasts. A morning sunrise 
 and a glowing sunset, to pass from the more material phe 
 nomena. John King for guide, who just suggests, seeing 
 me use fine salt for sand on my page, I guess that letter 
 won t spile before it gets there. An occasional novel, and 
 a great many vacant naps and reveries, are the positive en 
 joyments. The absence of everything else kindles a glow of 
 
 negative delights We have had no end of sport, in its 
 
 technical sense ; eight deer, and sixty trout in a week ! " 
 
 A year from that day, " Camp Content, Forked 
 Lake," was exchanged for a soldier s tent in a mili 
 tary camp, on the soil of Maryland. 
 
32 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MR. LINCOLN S INAUGURATION. FALL OF SUMTER. EFFORTS TO 
 RAISE A REGIMENT FOR THE WAR. JOURNEY TO WASHINGTON. 
 APPROVAL OF THE PROPOSED REGIMENT BY THE SECRETARY 
 OF WAR. 
 
 WILDER DWIGHT never entered so zealously 
 into any political campaign as lie did into that 
 of the autumn of 1860, which preceded Mr. Lincoln s 
 election to the Presidency, to which object he gave 
 himself with his accustomed energy. Some weeks 
 after the election he wrote as follows to the beloved 
 brother, who was then a citizen of Tennessee : 
 
 " DEAR HOWARD, A merry Christmas and a happy New 
 Year. Liberty and Union. Any Session except Secession. 
 If the order of things is not subverted, and if the United 
 States mail has not become a reminiscence and a regret, this 
 will bring you a token of the kind remembrance of your 
 foreign relations. Whatever national flag floats over you, 
 we wish you a better year than ever before. We drank to 
 you (only with our eyes) on Christmas Day, and all em 
 powered me to send you greeting. Acting under that in 
 formal power of attorney, the power of an attorney is my 
 constant strength, I wish you a God speed on your jour 
 ney, and pray that out of the present darkness there may 
 come a light. Just now, I can t for the life of me see where 
 it is to come from. But I have faith in the Constitution, 
 not as a legend or a bargain, but as a great social and physi 
 cal national condition. Those who kick against it will soon 
 feel the pricks. But madness and folly often produce dam 
 nable consequences. I send you an anchor, and commend 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 33 
 
 you to the hope it symbolizes. I know no other wisdom. 
 God bless you." 
 
 After attending the inauguration of Mr. Lincoln, 
 he wrote, at the close of the day, the following hasty 
 sketch of the scene : 
 
 " WASHINGTON, March 4, 1861. 
 
 " DEAR FATHER, This morning broke badly, but at noon 
 the sky cleared. I remained quietly at Willard s, and was 
 present when Mr. Buchanan came to receive the President 
 elect, and saw the interview, which was a formal one ; then 
 I saw Lincoln and Buchanan take their carriage, and the 
 whole procession pass. I then took a carriage, and, by back 
 streets, reached the Capitol grounds, and got a good place. 
 Soon Lincoln and Judge Taney, followed by Buchanan and 
 the other judges, etc., appeared. The band played Hail 
 Columbia. The crowd was immense. The Capitol steps 
 were covered with uniforms, etc. Baker, of Oregon, of the 
 Committee of Arrangements, announced that Mr. Lincoln 
 would speak ; and when Abraham rose and came forward 
 and rang out the words, Fellow-citizens of the United 
 States, he loomed and grew, and was ugly no longer. I 
 was not very near, but heard him perfectly. The address 
 you will read, and like, I hope. Its effect was very good. 
 An immense concourse thousands stood uncovered and 
 silent, except occasional applause ; the voice clear and ring 
 ing ; the manner very good, often impressive, and even 
 solemn ; the words I think to the point, direct, and clear. 
 The scene itself was of its own kind. And I must say its 
 effect upon me was far greater than I had supposed. When 
 the address closed, and the cheering subsided, Taney rose, 
 and, almost as tall as Lincoln, he administered the oath, 
 Lincoln repeating it ; and as the words, i preserve, protect, 
 and defend the Constitution came ringing out, he bent and 
 kissed the book ; and for one, I breathed freer and gladder 
 
34 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 than for months. The man looked a man, and acted a man 
 and a President. So much for inauguration." 
 
 A month later, on the 1st of April, 1861, he 
 wrote : 
 
 " DEAR HOWARD, You will hear by mail of grandfa 
 ther s death * through D. s letter. It was worthy of a calm, 
 wise, and benevolent life, and was full of every hope which 
 belongs to the last hour." 
 
 Two weeks later he received his own call to " arise 
 and depart." The first gun fired on Sumter was his 
 summons. When the awful tidings came, he closed 
 his law-books, never again to return to his beloved 
 profession. Then he wrote hastily from Boston, 
 where for some days he had been detained : 
 
 " DEAR MOTHER, I expect to bring out Mr. Blight, of 
 Philadelphia, to tea to-morrow evening. I will send you 
 word if it turns out he cannot come, to-morrow, by father. 
 I am glad to hear that you are up to the part of the Spartan 
 mother. I shall not come out to Brookline on my shield, 
 but I am all ready to go." 
 
 Of his position and prospects at this time none 
 are so competent to speak as those who were con 
 nected with him in his profession. At the meeting 
 of the Bar,t upon the occasion of his death, his 
 friend Francis E. Parker, Esq. said : 
 
 " He had everything which a man of high ambition most 
 desires. He had youth and health, fortune and friends, a 
 profession in which he delighted, the practical talents 
 
 * The Honorable Daniel Appleton White died March 30, 1861, in the eighty- 
 fifth year of his age. 
 t See Appendix III. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 35 
 
 which smooth the way in it, and the confidence in himself 
 which made labor light. But when the trouble of our 
 country came, he thought that all advantages and successes 
 which did not aid her were to be trampled under foot. He 
 gave up to his country, without a moment s hesitation, all 
 that he had gained and all that he was." 
 
 While a school-boy at West Point, as the term 
 drew near its close, he had playfully written home : 
 " I shall to the right about face and forward 
 quick march, when the term is over, and I shall 
 never evince any desire hereafter to shoulder a mus 
 ket or wear a sword." Even now, his taste was un 
 changed. Truly did Mr. Parker say of him : " He 
 looked the dangers of his new profession in the face,- 
 not fascinated by its glitter, nor drawn from weightier 
 thoughts by the sound of martial music ; but delib 
 erately, for the defence of the law and the support of 
 a cause which he solemnly considered to be just." 
 
 We cannot better present the efficient manner 
 in which he responded to his country s call than 
 by quoting the language used by Hon. Richard H. 
 Dana concerning him, at the meeting of the Bar on 
 the occasion already alluded to.* Mr. Dana said : 
 
 " He had that combination of qualities which led to suc 
 cess in whatever he undertook His love was for 
 
 that kind of intelligent labor which looks to specific re 
 sults He had an intuitive knowledge of himself, 
 
 and an instinctive knowledge of other men. He adapted 
 his means to his ends. He knew what he was suited to 
 do, and he had a power of will, a faculty of concentration, 
 and patience, perseverance, and confidence, which insured 
 success. 
 
 * See Appendix III. 
 
36 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 " He allowed no waste. He was as far as possible from 
 anything desultory. When the war broke out, he determined 
 to become a soldier. His friends knew he would make him 
 self one. He determined to offer the first regiment of three 
 years men to the army, and he did so. He went to Wash 
 ington to obtain advantages and opportunities most difficult 
 to secure, but we felt that he would succeed, and he did 
 succeed. I remember seeing him at the State-House seeking 
 to accomplish certain things for his regiment then most diffi 
 cult of attainment. He had the cheerful and satisfied look 
 of one who had succeeded, yet he had but begun. A com 
 mon friend whom I met, a member of the Governor s staff, 
 said to me : It is hard to do, but it is Wilder Dwight, and 
 he will carry it through, and he did." 
 
 Every step he took towards the prosecution of his 
 work illustrates the truth of Mr. Dana s words. He 
 began by associating himself with two gentlemen 
 whose West Point education and military ability and 
 experience secured the creation of such a regiment 
 as should do honor to Massachusetts. Under these 
 teachers he was a faithful student in military tactics, 
 and made rapid progress in his new profession. He 
 suffered not a day to pass, after the news from Sum- 
 ter, before opening a subscription-paper to guarantee 
 the expenses which would be incurred in the enter 
 prise. His cheerful presence met a warm welcome 
 from all whom he approached, and he had but to pre 
 sent his claim to receive a cordial response. The 
 money thus raised enabled him and his associates to 
 prosecute their enterprise without delay. 
 
 The practical difficulty in their way was, that there 
 was no law at that time, either of the United States 
 or the Commonwealth, under which it could be car- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 37 
 
 ried into operation. It was necessary to obtain from 
 the Secretary of War special authority for the enlist 
 ment and control of the proposed regiment. For 
 this purpose, on the 25th of April, 1861, while the 
 excitement which followed the Baltimore riot was at 
 its height, and the usual communication with the 
 seat of government was cut off, he left Boston with 
 Mr. Andrews (the future lieutenant-colonel of the 
 regiment), and went by the way of Annapolis to 
 Washington. Of this eventful journey he wrote the 
 following account, which was published at the time. 
 
 " To THE EDITOR OF THE TRANSCRIPT : 
 
 " A visit to Washington is not, now, a peaceful excursion 
 to the theatre of party politics. It is a military expedition 
 to the seat of war. The path is not crowded with hungry 
 or satisfied office-seekers, but it is lined with eager, devoted, 
 and patriotic soldiers. There is much to learn by the way, 
 and I propose to give you a few of the incidents and reflec 
 tions of my journey. 
 
 " The ticket-master at the depot in Philadelphia, on Fri 
 day, April 26, at noon, said, as he gave me my ticket : 4 This 
 will take you to Perryville, and there you must trust to 
 luck. When we reached Elkton, we found Sherman s Bat 
 tery, which is there stationed, actively engaged in going 
 through a drill, loading palpable cannon with imaginary 
 grape, and discharging them without fire, making the mo 
 tions of attack. There were violent secession symptoms 
 there a few days before the arrival of these silent but elo 
 quent monitors. Now the American flag feels the breeze 
 without a shiver. Long before we reached Perryville, th6 
 armed sentinels along the road showed that we were within 
 the sphere of the rebellion. At Perryville we reported to 
 Colonel Dare, who is in command of that post, and by him 
 we were put on our journey in a small steam-tug, crowded 
 
38 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 with troops. A tedious sail of six hours brought us to An 
 napolis at ten o clock in the evening. Here we reported to 
 General Butler at his head-quarters, and, delivering our 
 despatches, asked him to put us on our journey to Wash 
 ington. The General was the centre of action and influence. 
 His rapid and dashing executive ability had just opened the 
 path to the Capital. Bringing with him, in his regiment, 
 every resource of Yankee ingenuity and courage, he rebuilt 
 a railroad, revived an exhausted engine, or renewed a tele 
 graphic battery, with equal facility. But we found him at 
 the more difficult duty of feeding troops without proper 
 food, and sheltering them almost without tent or blanket. 
 Luckily, however, the mild climate made exposure less 
 dangerous, and every day things were growing better. 
 
 " After tedious but inevitable delays, the special train 
 started on Saturday morning at nine o clock. We went on 
 our way, escorted by a detachment of Massachusetts troops. 
 At intervals of a quarter of a mile, we stopped to replace a 
 rail, drive a spike., and secure still further the many defects 
 of the hasty reconstruction. Our train labored tediously 
 along. We crept slowly and with careful watch through a 
 secession village/ One incident alone relieved the monot 
 ony of our journey to the Junction. As we approached a 
 small settlement, two women appeared on the piazza of a 
 house standing on the hill overlooking the track, and waved 
 a welcome with the American flag. On the fence by the 
 station were seated, or hanging, half a dozen boys. One 
 of them wore on his cap a small flag. A passenger called 
 to him, What have you got on your cap ? The flag? 
 lie answered briskly. Are you true to it ? The little 
 fellow thought he was. Take your cap off then, and hold 
 it up here. He did so, and from many hands in the car 
 there fell into the ready cap a small shower of federal coin, 
 which we had already found to be legal tender still, in 
 Maryland. As the train moved off, the boys were gathering 
 around their new hero, and we caught the remark, Bj 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 39 
 
 Jove, see what Johnny got by wearing a flag. Repentant 
 Baltimore seems now to be trimming her cap anew. How 
 long will it be before she is holding it out imploringly to the 
 Union treasury ? 
 
 " With a delay at the Junction to change from our short 
 train to a long one filled with Pennsylvania troops, and with 
 occasional stops to relieve the pickets along the road with 
 fresh men, we reached Washington in eight hours. Wash 
 ington was just reviving under that Union blast which had 
 been bearing the echo of the guns of Sumter all over the 
 loyal North. For six days the city had been stifled by se 
 cession rumors ; now it was awaking to the fact that the 
 people were resolved to have a government, and their will 
 was absolute. Troops were pouring in, and the Capital was 
 safe. On the previous Sunday panic had seized the city, 
 and rumor had almost brought Jefferson Davis to the Poto 
 mac. Now it was known that the Rebels had no plan of 
 immediate attack, but the free and spontaneous North was 
 organizing for immediate defence. Mail communication, 
 however, was not yet open. On Sunday, the 28th, the news 
 boys were crying in the street the Herald of Sunday, the 
 21st, as the i Latest from New York ; and so it was, except 
 the few papers which came by private hands. 
 
 " But Washington was not only unprepared for its defence, 
 it was also unprepared for its defenders. In the Capital 
 itself our own troops had found the Balaklava experience 
 of want within reach of plenty, and spent a day without 
 food. It gladdens us to know that this cannot be so again. 
 Still, much remains to do for the comfort and health of the 
 troops. A sudden army is a most unmanageable organiza 
 tion. But Jefferson Davis will find it so too. 
 
 "At the Capitol we found, in the. Senate Chamber, the 
 Sixth, the Bloody Sixth, as they are called. A young offi 
 cer was writing a loyal letter on Senator WigfalPs desk. I 
 recollected that the last time I was in the Senate, Colonel 
 Wigfall was talking treason there, and I thought, what a 
 
40 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 very honorable body had succeeded to the seats of the Sen 
 ators. The gallant Seventh, of New York, quitting, at a 
 moment s notice, their homes and business and pleasure, to 
 4 defend the Capitol, were rewarded, after their severe 
 march, by becoming entitled to the privilege of the floor 
 of the House. The Seventh enlisted for a month only, and 
 were taking their meals at Brown s and the National. 
 Though not soldiers for the field, they have rendered great 
 service in expressing the prompt resolve of New York. Be 
 tween them and the Massachusetts Eighth there exists the 
 most cordial good- will and attachment, kindled by mutual 
 services on their march. 
 
 " There seemed to be a sudden infusion of life into all 
 departments of the government, but as yet great want of 
 plan, system, and order. This must come, or we must suf 
 fer. The Ordnance Department, whose duty it is to provide 
 arms and munitions of war, exhibits every evidence of the 
 new life which its new head brings to it. Colonel James 
 W. Ripley, formerly of the Springfield Armory, where his 
 organizing energy is still felt, as he was returning from 
 Japan, heard, in the Red Sea, a few weeks ago, the first 
 news of 4 Secession. He hurried impatiently home, to give 
 himself to his country. * Nothing but the thirty-four stars 
 and thirteen stripes, he says, will satisfy me ; I must have 
 the whole flag. In this temper he is arming the whole 
 country. Of this temper must every man be who lifts a 
 hand in this struggle. 
 
 " Though we came among the first who brought to Wash 
 ington full proof of the temper of the North, there followed 
 us, on Sunday and Monday, impatient and ardent men from 
 the West, to give her warm impulses in support of the 
 government. Never, in the history of the world, did opin- 
 ion> or rather sentiment, take such sudden form. It has 
 leaped, full-armed, into life. May the government have 
 wisdom to organize it promptly, and direct it wisely and 
 boldly. What we now need is, not so much men as soldiers. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 41 
 
 An extempore army is an impossibility. Every State must 
 give herself, with energy, to the organization of men, to 
 their full equipment, and to immediate instruction in every 
 duty and habit of the soldier. One practical suggestion 
 may be given here. The soldier in the ranks has no need 
 of a revolver. Let us stop that foolish expense and waste. 
 The musket is the best weapon, and its bayonet is always 
 loaded. The revolver is dangerous to its wearer and his 
 companions. It cannot be vised without abandoning the 
 musket, and a divided man is inferior to one who has one 
 will and one weapon. This view comes from the highest 
 authority. To teach men the use of the bayonet is better 
 than to give them a revolver. 
 
 " An observation of troops on the march and in the bar 
 racks shows plainly, also, that the deficiencies of outfit must 
 be rapidly supplied, or the health of the troops will fail. 
 Tents, above all, are imperatively called for to release the 
 men from their crowded and unhealthy quarters in the pub 
 lic buildings. Vegetables, too, must go forward to relieve 
 them from the indigestible monotony of raw pork and hard 
 bread. In these directions our State government has al 
 ready acted. In such direction there remains much to do. 
 But all honor to the Governor of Massachusetts. Her 
 troops were first in the field ; her troops were the first to 
 fire a gun ; her troops, on that Sunday of panic in Wash 
 ington, were a main reliance and hope ; and it was the 
 vigorous and ardent patriotism of Governor Andrew that 
 created this sudden army. What is that noise ? I asked, 
 last Sunday, of an officer of our regular army, in whose 
 quarters I was sitting. * That ? said he ; ; 0, that is the 
 Massachusetts Sixth ! You had better go and see em : every 
 one of em is a soldier ! The willing patriotism of Massa 
 chusetts is a part of the history of our Great Rebellion. 
 
 " On Monday, April 29, at noon, with a military passport 
 from Colonel Stone, we left Washington. Twenty thousand 
 troops were within the city limits, and the Capital was safe. 
 
42 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 At the Junction we found Colonel Corcoran, of the New 
 York Sixty-Ninth, and his gallant Irishmen. They worship 
 the Colonel, and, in a free fight, I should rather meet any 
 other man. Annapolis, too, was full of troops. I ought 
 not to forget Governor Sprague s Rhode Island regiment at 
 Washington. A model, in its equipment and drill, and 
 showing how much those incidents increase the efficiency of 
 the men, how necessary they are to make the soldier. 
 
 " One suggestion, in closing. The immediate security of 
 Washington is accomplished. Massachusetts was the pio 
 neer in that enterprise. The creation of regiments, on a 
 permanent basis for service, as long as there is a rebel in 
 arms, is the next duty of patriotism. Soldiers for a cam 
 paign, that is the pressing necessity of a struggle for the 
 whole flag. Let Massachusetts also be the pioneer in this 
 enterprise." 
 
 He reached Washington on the evening of the 
 27th, at which time he wrote to his father a brief 
 account of his journey through " the enemy s coun 
 try," saying : " At the hotel I found Colonel Ripley. 
 He will help me in rny object, and, I think, enters 
 into the project very favorably. I go with him to 
 see the Secretary of War this evening." 
 
 After submitting his plan to the Secretary in con 
 versation, he addressed to him a written statement 
 of the same. On the next day, the following letter 
 was received from the War Department : 
 
 "WASHINGTON CITY, April 28, 1861. 
 " To MESSRS. WILDER DWIGHT AND GEORGE L. ANDREWS : 
 
 " The plan which you communicated for raising a regi 
 ment in Massachusetts for service during the war meets my 
 approval. Such a regiment shall be immediately enlisted 
 in the service of the government, as one of those which 
 are to be called for immediately. The regiment shall be 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 43 
 
 ordered to Fort Independence, or some other station in Bos 
 ton Harbor, for purposes of training, equipment, and drill, 
 and shall be kept there two months, unless an emergency 
 compels their presence elsewhere. 
 
 " I am, gentlemen, very respectfully, 
 
 " SIMON CAMERON, 
 
 Secretary of War. 19 
 
44 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 APPOINTED MAJOR OF THE SECOND MASSACHUSETTS INFANTRY. 
 THE REGIMENT LEAVES BOSTON. LETTERS FROM MARTINSBURG, 
 BUNKER HILL, AND HARPER S FERRY. 
 
 FROM this time Wilder Dwight seemed to have 
 but one interest in life. To see the Massachu 
 setts Second become, in organization and in disci 
 pline, a perfect regiment, and to do, in connection 
 with it, all that such a power could do towards sup 
 pressing the Rebellion, this was the aim which 
 bounded his horizon. 
 
 He was appointed, by Colonel Gordon s recom 
 mendation, Major of the regiment, which position he 
 held until June, 1862, when he was promoted by 
 Governor Andrew to be its Lieutenant-Colonel. 
 
 During what remained to him of life the history of 
 the regiment is his history. " All I want," he once 
 wrote, " is the success of the regiment itself, noth 
 ing more or less ; and there is room enough for dis 
 tinction, for any one who does his share, in any 
 regiment, to make it a good one." 
 
 To the duties of his new position, however petty 
 in detail, he was content to give all his energies. To 
 no service assigned him by his superior officers was 
 he ever found unequal. And as at the very entrance 
 upon the practice of the law he had the confidence 
 of one who had spent his life in courts, so now, a be 
 ginner in military duty, he was relied upon by his 
 superiors in command. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. 45 
 
 The months given to the training, equipment, and 
 drill of the regiment, at their pleasant camp on Brook 
 Farm, West Roxbury, were full of interest to him. 
 On the 8th of July, 1861, the regiment left " Camp 
 Andrew," and entered Boston, to take its departure 
 for the seat of war. The day was one of intense 
 heat, to which circumstance he refers in the follow 
 ing lines written from New York the next morn 
 ing : 
 
 " TUESDAY MORNING, July 9. 
 
 " DEAR MOTHER, I suppose you will be glad to hear 
 that we came out of the furnace like gold. Everything has 
 gone well. I feel better than before starting, and the regi 
 ment, as soon as it got on board ship, found itself cool and 
 well. We are off this afternoon. Good by. God bless you." 
 
 Surprise has been often expressed that he found 
 time to write so many letters while he was in the 
 army. This is explained by the rapidity with which 
 he wrote, and the fact that he kept no other journal 
 of events, some record of which he felt would be in 
 valuable to him, should he survive the war. 
 
 The haste in which these letters were necessarily 
 written, while it should be remembered in judging 
 of their literary merit, makes them none the less 
 valuable as a graphic picture of the scenes through 
 which he passed. 
 
 He again writes : 
 
 " HAGERSTOWN, MARYLAND, July 11, 1861. 
 
 u If any one supposes that an advance under pressure 
 to join General Patterson s column is fun, let him try it. 
 From Boston, as soon as we got the train, all went well. 
 At New York, on the whole, everything was warm, but 
 cheerful. We gave them a show in the Park, and made 
 
46 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 our speeches. But best of all was our prompt and orderly 
 embarkation at the wharf, and our start for Harrisburg and 
 Hagerstown. Luck, however, did not follow us beyond 
 New York. We spent in the cars, on our way to Hagers 
 town, nearly thirty-six hours, more than twice too long. 
 But, per contra, discipline was maintained, and every man 
 found himself fed, and in as good shape as possible. Here 
 we are. Our band filled the town with its music at five 
 o clock this morning. The advance train, in which I was, 
 arrived at one o clock. We are in the midst of preparation 
 to commence our march upon Martinsburg, where we join 
 General Patterson. I do not think there will be any fight 
 ing immediately, others think otherwise ; but to-day s ru 
 mors show Johnson falling back to Winchester. Unless he 
 does voluntarily, he must per force. We ford the Potomac, 
 and I am impatient to feel, with my horses hoofs, the sacred 
 soil of Virginia. I have been very well, notwithstanding 
 the intense heat. Saw William in New York, and he helped 
 me a good deal. You would laugh to see how our pretty 
 things are getting spoiled with the service. 
 
 " Our present position and duty cannot be regarded other 
 wise than as a high compliment. With other regiments al 
 most on the spot, we are called to the post most threatened, 
 and we are called from a distance, too. It shows that, 
 somehow or other, we have got a reputation. Excuse haste 
 and all incoherency. 
 
 " I was sorry not to see you more on the Common, but it 
 was best to cut short the parting. Give warm love to father 
 and all the boys, and every one else. God bless you all." 
 
 Some hours later he writes : 
 
 " I wrote a note this morning, just before breakfast, ex 
 pecting an immediate start for Martinsburg ; but, owing to 
 the necessary delays of our movements, we shall not start 
 until four o clock this afternoon. To-night we camp on this 
 side the Potomac. Everything is as well with us as it can 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 47 
 
 be. I think the organization shows, by its practical working 
 on the way, that it is a success. The men are quiet, orderly, 
 and disciplined. Their rations have held out well, and their 
 health and spirits are remarkably good. I see very clearly 
 that there is to be no limit of work, but much of it will be 
 work that I can do, which is all I want. As to fatigue, I 
 expect to bear it well. Since Sunday morning I have not 
 had three successive hours of sleep, but I feel well and vig 
 orous, notwithstanding. We start from here very soon, and, 
 as the regiment moves out on its first march, w r e expect to 
 make a fine appearance. I shall write as often as I can, and 
 hope to hear." 
 
 Two days later he writes : 
 
 "!N CAMP, MARTINSBURG, Saturday, July 13, 1861. 
 
 " Void que nous sommes arrives. I am in my tent, on the 
 high ground, south of the town of Martinsburg. Our regi 
 ment is a part of w r hat is called General Patterson s column, 
 and we are on the advance post. It would have done your 
 pride good to have seen us form the regiment, and start on our 
 march from Hagerstown. My own responsible position, in 
 rear of the column, led me to watch its progress, to return 
 to give orders to the rear-guard and wagons, and, in general, 
 to be lively. I am very well, and, though living under high 
 pressure, getting my load along. At about half past six on 
 Thursday afternoon we reached the bank of the Potomac, 
 passing down from the high ground on which Doubleday s 
 battery stood two weeks ago. We camped on the bank, 
 without crossing the river. It was a long job getting the 
 men into camp, and getting their supper into the men. At 
 four the next (yesterday) morning we were up striking 
 tents and getting breakfast. Then the battalion formed, 
 and then came our first regular undress parade. At the 
 command, the men prepared to ford the Potomac. In a few 
 moments, the regiment was without its pantaloons. The 
 vulgar prejudices of society, I am aware, are on the side of 
 
48 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 these appendages, but society does not cross the Potomac on 
 foot in the freshness of the morning. The column moved 
 forward in regular order. The band advanced into the 
 stream playing a confident march, and so we passed the 
 river gayly. Then came a long march, thirteen miles. 
 We were told that the enemy s cavalry were on the hills on 
 the Virginia bank of the river, but we saw nothing of them, 
 though the regiment marched with loaded muskets. The 
 march was a new experience, it was an interesting one. 
 The morning was fresh and cool ; the horses and wagons 
 were our chief source of delay. One balky horse jumped 
 up, leaped over the wheel-horses, fell, and hooked himself 
 to the pole. He was left behind. One team spent a long 
 time in the river. Still, at last, the train moved on. With 
 frequent halts, we reached Martinsburg at three in the after 
 noon. We marched with music playing, and amid some 
 attention of thousands of troops, to our camping-ground. 
 Then we pitched our tents, and, in the midst of a violent 
 thunder-storm, mounted our guns, got supper, and then I 
 suppose you expect me to say went to bed. Not so, how 
 ever, the Major. Instead of bed, which I desired, I went 
 about in the pouring rain to visit sentinels, see that the men 
 had supper, <fec., &c. At twelve o clock I crept under cover. 
 At five this morning, got up, put on wet boots, and went on 
 duty again. To-day I have been attending drills, <fcc., I 
 see clearly that there is no rest in this life. With care, I 
 can keep well, I think, and I hope can do well for the men. 
 But the care is a very great one. I have written this note 
 in the midst of interruptions of every kind, and I have no 
 more time now. We are under orders to move on Monday 
 somewhither. We are in a beautiful country ; everything 
 here is new tinder the sun, or rather under the clouds. 
 That, in itself, is spicy and cheering. In great haste .... 
 with much love to all." 
 
 Again he writes : 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 49 
 
 "Ix BIVOUAC AT BUNKER HILL, July 16, 1861. 
 
 " We paused last evening, on our march toward Winches 
 ter, and lay down on the side of a hill in a pine grove. Late 
 Sunday evening, at Martinsburg, the order came to be in 
 readiness to march at five o clock the next morning. No 
 intimation whither. We had reveille at three o clock, 
 packed wagons, breakfasted, formed the battalion, and then 
 came our marching orders. The whole command of Gen 
 eral Patterson commenced its movement at five. The march 
 was without incident. We found our place in column at 
 about eight o clock, and moved on till three, when we 
 reached Bunker Hill. There was firing by our advanced 
 guard, who drove fifteen hundred of the enemy s cavalry 
 before them. We came upon their deserted camp. The 
 movement was steady but slow. From the high ground, 
 and in turnings of the road, the sight was a fine one. Our 
 regiment excited universal admiration. It is already con 
 sidered the regiment of the whole command. My horse 
 works beautifully, and keeps perfectly well. I have great 
 comfort in him. When one is twelve hours in saddle, it 
 makes a difference what the saddle is on. The camp-ground 
 assigned us was the one we now occupy. It is very much 
 exposed, and in advance of the main body. On taking pos 
 session of it, we found every indication of recent occupa 
 tion, and find that the Rebels occupied it night before last. 
 The men lay right down to rest. I continued upon duty, 
 under direction of the Colonel, till five o clock in the after 
 noon. Then, a man who lived near by invited us to tea 
 with him. Our wagons were back in the interminable train, 
 and we had given up all hope of them till late. The man 
 spoke strongly of Union, &c. We accepted his offer, and 
 went down to his farm-house and ate our bacon and eggs in 
 the midst of his pickaninnies and slaves. The poor man 
 could not speak of the American flag without choking. He 
 said the other army had pressed their horses and food, &c., 
 and given them nothing in return but receipts of the South- 
 
50 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 ern Confederacy, and i there ain t any Southern Confeder 
 acy, said he. Still the prevailing tone here is secession. 
 We lay down at night under the trees. I posted a picket- 
 guard outside the lines, and, after attending to other duties, 
 was right glad to go to sleep. 
 
 " Our men are toughening to it slowly, but their knap 
 sacks still pull heavily at them. 
 
 " To-day we have been resting the men, and having skir 
 mish-drill in the wheat-fields. One of our companies is off 
 on picket duty, three miles down the road towards Winches 
 ter. We had a call this morning from Major Doubleday. 
 His battery is the terror of the enemy. He got out his map, 
 and we studied the localities. He talked very agreeably 
 about Sumter, &c. We have just received (four p. M., 
 Tuesday) our orders for the advance upon Winchester. A 
 very good place is assigned us. The impression is that the 
 advance forms part of a grand concerted movement, and 
 that to-morrow will be a decisive day in the history of the 
 campaign. I hope for a big, worthy battle, one that means 
 something and decides something. And I hope to have 
 strength, courage, and wisdom to do my duty in it. I never 
 felt happier or more earnest than for the last few days, and 
 I never realized more fully the best significance of life. 1 
 have always had a dream and theory about the virtues that 
 are called out by war. I have nothing to say of the supply 
 which I can furnish, but I am vividly impressed with the 
 demand. The calling needs a whole man ; and it exacts 
 very much from him. Self gets thrown into the back 
 ground. It straggles out of the column, and is picked up, 
 if at all, very late, by the rear-guard. I am writing this let 
 ter upon an empty case of cartridges, which were distributed 
 this morning, sitting under an oak-tree back of the lines by 
 the side of the Colonel, who has just returned from a confer 
 ence with Colonel Abercrombie, and who is full of the duties 
 of to-morrow. Good by, and God bless you. Love to all. 
 
 " If anything should happen to me, remember that I 
 meant to do my duty." 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 51 
 
 "Wednesday morning , 1.7th. The battalion is in march 
 ing order since four o clock. Day, bright and clear. It is 
 half past six, and no advance yet." 
 
 " CHARLESTOWN, VA., July 18, 1861. 
 
 " From Bunker Hill to Charlestown may not seem a long 
 way to a Massachusetts man, but in Virginia it is a hard 
 day s work. Our regiment slept on its arms at Bunker 
 Hill Tuesday night. We thought the forward movement 
 was to be on Winchester. A feint was made that way. 
 The enemy had obstructed the main road. We held John 
 ston s men, expecting attack. By our sudden flank move 
 ment we have got him. If McDowell has done rightly by 
 Manassas, we will put Johnston in a tight place. Yester 
 day we were ready to start at three, A. M. Twenty thou 
 sand men move slowly. It took till nine in the evening 
 to get the regiment into position at Charlestown, twelve 
 miles off. We were in the reserve, fifteen hours in the 
 saddle. When the men were drawn up, and had stacked 
 their arms, they fell right down to sleep as they stood. 
 The day was bitterly hot ; the march terribly tedious, 
 but glorious. Twenty-five thousand men occupy the town 
 where John Brown was hung. We are the first Massachu 
 setts regiment which has defiantly, and without interrup 
 tion, stalked through Virginia. In the afternoon we en 
 tered a small village on our route. The band played first 
 the Star Spangled Banner, then Hail Columbia, then Yan 
 kee Doodle. Our horses arched their necks and moved to 
 the music. The men moved with fresh life and spirit. 
 Our splendid banner, not a star dimmed, flaunted in the 
 faces of the sulky Virginians. 
 
 " The country is splendid ; but, as the hymn-book says, 
 * Only man is vile ! My cook came to me on the route, 
 after vainly endeavoring to forage for our dinner, and said, 
 4 1 tout Virginny was a perducing country, but I don t see 
 nothin growin fit to eat nohow. The negroes sat on the 
 
52 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 fences along the route, and wondered. Our march means 
 freedom to them. It means, too, the restoration of the 
 Union line wherever we move. The American flag sprouts 
 in the furrow of our ploughshare. It is hard work, slow 
 work, new work ; but it has its compensations, this military 
 occupation of a country. Southern blood has been boiling 
 all day, said a woman standing on the door of a farm-house 
 on our line of march. Just at dusk, as we neared Charles- 
 town, there was a cannonading in front. We threw out 
 skirmishers and drew up the battalion, but have not yet 
 learned the cause of the alarm. This is not a very coherent 
 epistle. It exhibits only an echo of the tone of feeling 
 which animates one on an expedition like ours. You would 
 have wondered to see our jaded men prick up their ears, 
 and stand alive again, when they thought a brush was at 
 hand. The Indiana regiment in our rear yelled like wild 
 Indians. I think Johnston will retire without much of a 
 fight. But here we know nothing except the movements of 
 our own brigade. Half of our force goes out of service to 
 morrow. This will hamper our movements." 
 
 " HEAD-QUARTERS SECOND REGIMENT M. V., HARPER S FERRY, 
 Friday Morning, July 19, 1861. 
 
 " A soldier s life is always gay ! Here we are ! Yester 
 day morning, just as I had finished my letter to you from 
 Charlestown, from our camp, an order came from General 
 Patterson for our brigade to prepare itself with two days 
 rations in haversacks, to march without baggage. This 
 made us lively under the hot sun. The Colonel and I went 
 and reported to General Patterson, whose head-quarters were 
 in the house of Senator Hunter, the traitor, who had fled to 
 Richmond. There we saw the General and Major Porter. 
 It was evident that no vigorous move was to be attempted, 
 and that this column awaited the news from Manassas. We 
 returned to camp. I had just got to sleep, to make up for 
 the fatigues of the day before (our march from Bunker Hill 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 53 
 
 to Charlestown, Colonel Abercrombie says, was as hard a 
 one as he ever knew), when the Colonel came to my tent 
 and said, No sleep for you ; I ve got orders. A new 
 order had come, directing our regiment to get ready for 
 detached service. No indication had come of our destina 
 tion, but we were to report to General Patterson as soon as 
 ready. At three, we got under way with all our train. 
 We were sent to Harper s Ferry. After a march of three 
 hours we reached Harper s Ferry. The people received us 
 with perfect enthusiasm, cheering and shouting after our 
 flag. We are sent here to hold Harper s Ferry. Oar head 
 quarters are in the house of the Superintendent of the 
 Arsenal. We succeed in its occupation to Johnston, the 
 rebel. There are a good many of the secession horsemen 
 home-guard, who are a terror to the country, and whom we 
 are to quell. We shall establish our pickets in various 
 directions, and hold the place, unless, indeed, we get orders 
 to go elsewhere, which we are prepared to expect at any 
 time. So, after all our expectation, there is no battle yet. 
 The rumor is that Johnston is withdrawing from Winchester, 
 and does not mean to fight. We know nothing here except 
 by rumor. The country here is magnificent ; the scenery 
 glorious. Our camp is on the high ground, and faces the 
 gorge through which the Potomac flows. The service 011 
 which our regiment is detached, though not a dangerous, 
 is a very responsible and honorable one. The climate here 
 is delightful, and I hope that all our men and officers will 
 entirely recover from the fatigues of their sudden and recent 
 duty. It is an odd life, and full of variety. Just now we 
 seem to be about to see a little comfort. Our post here is 
 due to the reputation the regiment has already acquired for 
 discipline and promptness. It stirs one s blood to see the 
 reign of terror under which these people have been living. 
 Men come in and claim protection. Wives come and ask 
 that their husbands may be assured of safety in returning 
 to their homes. The most villanous system of oppression 
 
54 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 has been practised here in Virginia. The house in which 
 we are now quartered is a fine house, and has a view which 
 you would like, I think." 
 
 " HARPER S FERRY, Monday Morning, July 22, 1861. 
 
 " War is a game, but you must hold a few cards to play 
 it ! Our column, which marched so proudly out of Martins- 
 burg, is now melting away. The time of the regiments 
 expires, and they go. This cripples our movement. Since 
 I wrote you, Colonel Gordon has been in command here. 
 The order under which he came stated, You will organize 
 the department for a military depot. Your regiment is 
 selected because the general commanding wishes the town 
 " placed, from the commencement, in a proper condition of 
 military order and discipline." Once so, it can be easily 
 retained. 
 
 " I have been very busy organizing the thing, under 
 the Colonel. Just after I last wrote you, I established and 
 posted the town guard, selecting for the guard-house the 
 engine-house within the Arsenal enclosure, which was held 
 by John Brown, and which is one of the few buildings left 
 amid the general wreck. Then arrests were to be made of 
 suspected men, pickets and outposts to be established, &c. 
 
 " We started a regular post-office, selecting as postmaster 
 a sergeant of Captain Savage s company, who was formerly 
 postmaster of his native town. 
 
 " Treason and conspiracy are all about us We 
 
 had quite a scene at our flag-raising the day after our ar 
 rival. The tall flagstaff on the Arsenal grounds had borne 
 the secession rag for weeks. We wished to put our banner 
 there. After several attempts to adjust the halliards, which 
 failed, Sergeant Hill, of Company B, volunteered to climb 
 the tree pole to its top and fasten the rope. This he did, 
 
 amid the cheers, &c., of the people and soldiers I 
 
 hope to hear to-day of the fall of Manassas, and then all will 
 be well I am very well and very happy. To be well 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. 55 
 
 is a great blessing, for the water and fatigue combined take 
 down a great many stronger men." 
 
 "HARPER S FERRY, July 24, 1861. 
 
 " The news from Manassas has filled us with gloom and 
 bitterness. We can only rejoice that we were not misled 
 into such a rout and panic. I cannot tell whose fault it is, 
 or how the explanation may alleviate the disgrace, but it 
 
 seems to me that the disaster is a most terrible one 
 
 that we had force and energy to strike again immediately ! 
 But we cannot judge here. Yesterday a lot of negro fugi 
 tives came in. We are obliged to stop them, though it went 
 against my grain to throw any obstacles in their way. One 
 of them, a fine-looking fellow called Bob, we took as a wait 
 er. He was the slave of Colonel Baylor of the secession 
 army, and I think Colonel Gordon will retain his services 
 until Colonel Baylor returns to his allegiance. A moment 
 ago a man was brought up under guard, and Colonel Gor 
 don ordered him into the office. Where do you come 
 from ? asked he. From Charlestown, said the man, a 
 rather dark-complexioned fellow, with curly hair. < I ran 
 away, said he, last night. Ran away ! from whom ? 
 From my mistress. c Are you a slave ? Yes. Noth 
 ing could have been more unexpected than this reply. The 
 fellow says he has brothers and sisters as white as him 
 self, and all slaves. His father a white man, his mother a 
 yellow woman. The man s features and accent were Euro 
 pean. 0, this is a beautiful system, in its practical details, 
 a firm basis for a Christian commonwealth ! It is an order 
 of things worth fighting for ! Bah ! 
 
 " By our maintenance of good order and discipline, by 
 our protection of the inhabitants of the town against the 
 undisciplined of our own army and against lawless oppres 
 sion from the Rebels, and by the fact of our being the first 
 regiment to bring back the flag to this town, we have so far 
 won the affection of the townspeople that they propose, this 
 
56 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 evening, to present us with a flag. We shall accept it, and 
 add it to our bundle of banners. Yesterday afternoon 
 (Tuesday) we had quite a flurry. Orders came to be ready 
 to march at a moment s notice. We packed up speedily, 
 and were just ready to move when an order came that a 
 telegram was received from General Scott telling us to stay 
 where we are. Such is camp life. We do not know what a 
 day will bring forth, literally. I see no immediate prospect 
 of our getting into active military duty ; but one cannot tell 
 how the aspect will change before night. 
 
 " One thing is clear, our column would have met the fate 
 of McDowell s, had it made an attack upon Johnston in 
 position at Winchester. But, on the other hand, had 
 McDowell made his attack when we threatened Johnston at 
 Bunker Hill, perhaps the result would have been different. 
 
 " One thing is certain, there has been no concert, no union 
 in the movement of the two columns. But what good is 
 there in speculating upon what might have been ! I do hope 
 that the government will wake up and put out its power. 
 These rebels mean fight. We must have an army, an arma 
 ment, generals and soldiers, if we mean to whip them. 
 .... Here s hoping the good time is coming." 
 
 " HEAD-QUARTERS, HARPER S FERRY, 
 
 Wednesday, July 24, 1861. 
 
 " If you knew the pleasure I have had to-day in receiving 
 my first letter from you, you would write write write. 
 A letter written on Sunday with C. s charming postscript. 
 Its arrival is the incident of our bloodless campaign. Yet 
 our progress is not without its triumphs. To-day, for in 
 stance, we have had another flag presented. The ladies of 
 Harper s Ferry, this evening, assembled on the Square, and 
 our officers, with the band and color-bearer, went out to 
 receive the national color. The flag, during the occupation 
 of the town by Johnston, had been sent off to Frederick City, 
 in Maryland. It was brought back last Saturday, to be 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 57 
 
 given to the first regiment of Federal troops which brought 
 its protection to the people. The scene and the occasion 
 were striking. One of the ladies made a short speech. 
 The Colonel responded, and the band rang out, Long may 
 it wave ! 
 
 " Virginia gives an American flag to Massachusetts, and 
 Massachusetts restores the blessings of that flag to Virginia. 
 I cannot help attaching a good deal of significance to the 
 occasion. I fancy, too, that there are Virginians whose 
 blood will boil with the desire to tear down that flag, which 
 we will certainly carry into action when the time comes. 
 
 " Since I began to write news has come that General 
 
 Banks has arrived to take command of this division 
 
 We hear from Winchester that there is great mourning and 
 no joy over the battle at Manassas. Their dead are coming 
 home to them in great numbers. If I am not mistaken, it 
 will turn out that, if that senseless panic had not overtaken 
 our troops, a half-hour more would have given them a 
 decided success. These speculations and discussions fill 
 our minds here, for want of something more practical and 
 direct." 
 
 " HARPER S FERRY, July 26, 1861. 
 
 " We are here waiting on Providence, and holding on 
 to this corner of Virginia by the skin of our teeth. I 
 am not uneasy, for I do not care whether it comes or not ; 
 but why Beauregard with his large force should not kick 
 our broken column into Maryland I do not see. This is 
 not a cheerful view, but it is reasonable at least. You 
 conclude, do you not ? that the South has still got the start 
 of us in preparation and in energy. Hope now hangs on 
 McClellan, who has a prestige that will enable him to revive 
 the spirit that belongs to our army. Manassas shows three 
 things : First, our infantry, even in its present loosely or 
 ganized condition, is better than theirs ; our foot-soldiers 
 will face and drive theirs. Second, our artillery outweighs 
 
58 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 theirs ; and batteries are to be silenced, not stormed. 
 Third, cavalry gives them great advantage. We must have 
 more cavalry. In fact, we must create and organize a well- 
 appointed army and armament : our rash levied numbers 
 are mere numbers, not forces. 
 
 " I seem to myself, here on the spot, to realize afresh the 
 immensity of our task. I pity the statesman who is to recre 
 ate liberty and order upon the ashes of this civil war. You 
 cannot form any idea of the real significance of civil war, 
 without being in the midst of its experience, as we have 
 been. I do hope that the Union will have power to shorten 
 it, and I regard the disaster of last Sunday chiefly impor 
 tant because it checks the reaction which was restoring men 
 in these Border States to their courage and allegiance. 
 Panic and terrorism are doing their worst here, and they 
 are terrible agencies in such times as these." 
 
 "HEAD-QUARTERS, HARPER S FERRY, Sunday, July 28, 1861. 
 
 " There is so much of drag and so little of incident in my 
 present life that a letter seems hardly worth while. The 
 sunlight, as it breaks the fog this Sunday morning, discloses 
 some of our batteries on the hills commanding our somewhat 
 defenceless position. On Friday General Banks ordered all 
 the wagons to be sent across the river, and all stores of 
 every kind to be removed from our temporary storehouses. 
 We have been in bivouac ever since, sleeping on hay, and 
 indulging in every variety of soldierly discomfort. General 
 Banks is unwilling to signalize his first military service by 
 ordering a retreat ; yet, unless we are promptly reinforced, 
 there is no other way. I feel very sorry to desert the Union- 
 loving men of this country. Our army never should retreat, 
 because no sooner do loyal men under its protection avow 
 themselves, than they are marked for the first prey by 
 the rebels which our retreat allows. for a strong will 
 and a large energy and patience, till every preparation is 
 made ! Then we can walk to the Gulf and wipe out these 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 59 
 
 villains. Yesterday we had scouting-parties out, and as our 
 spies came in at night, they reported the enemy s pickets 
 near our lines, and a movement of a large body making 
 in our direction. So at eleven o clock I took through 
 the drowsy camp, rousing sleeping piles of humanity and 
 blankets, an order for their action, in case of alarm during 
 the night. No such alarm came. Yesterday the Massachu 
 setts Twelfth, Colonel Webster, arrived on the other side of 
 the river, and is now in camp there ; so we are stronger by 
 one regiment. I do not know how long we shall stay here, 
 but suppose that either our wagons will come back or we 
 shall join them soon. Indeed, a mere nominal holding of 
 Harper s Ferry like the present one does not seem to indi 
 cate great strength. I am right in my conjecture. At this 
 moment an order comes in from the commanding general 
 directing the passage of the troops across the river to-day, 
 and indicating the order of march. The order concluded, 
 however, with the direction : The Second Massachusetts 
 Regiment will remain as a garrison to this place. The 
 colonel of this regiment will so establish his pickets as to 
 give him timely warning of the enemy s approach. For 
 this object, twenty men of the cavalry and one non-commis 
 sioned officer will be left with the garrison of the place. So 
 we are to have the honor to be the first to occupy and the 
 last to quit the sacred soil of Harper s Ferry. Well, we 
 marched into Virginia full of hope and fight and purpose. 
 We dinned the Star Spangled Banner into the unwilling 
 ears of the startled villagers. We had doleful marches but 
 delightful measures. Grim-visaged war had her front 
 smoothed of its wrinkles, to be sure, but we thought to 
 meet the front of fearful adversaries. 
 
 " Now, however, instead of all this ecstasy of advance, 
 we are employed in the anxious endeavor to retreat as little 
 as possible. No matter, the fulness of time will bring only 
 one result, and we can wait for it. Military glory, however, 
 will not turn out to be so cheap an article as some of our 
 
60 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 holiday soldiers thought it. The price of it is rising every 
 
 day Doubleday s battery just went by with the long 
 
 rifled cannon which throws a ball five miles, and now the 
 air is full of the dust and music of the New York Twelfth, 
 which is also on the march. They will soon leave us alone 
 in our glory. We shall occupy the lower part of the town, 
 near the ford, and shall only hold the place till some 
 stronger force comes to claim it. This duty will exact a 
 lively vigilance, but it is free from danger, I think, and my 
 own strong belief is, that, with our cannon frowning from 
 the hills, the Rebels will not think it worth while to claim 
 the town, especially as it is utterly worthless for any military 
 purpose. 
 
 " I think of you all enjoying a quiet Sunday morning at 
 home, and should like to join you for a time ; but I am 
 getting, in the presence of these outrages, to desire only the 
 results of war. Cavalry and artillery, we must have 
 these before we can be completely effective." 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 61 
 
 CHAPTER IY. 
 
 LETTERS FROM MARYLAND HEIGHTS. 
 
 "MARYLAND HEIGHTS, ADVANCED POST, July 30, 1861, 
 Tuesday Afternoon, in Camp. 
 
 " TTTITH your passion for fine prospects and high hills, 
 \ \ you would like to climb with me from the dripping 
 ford of the Potomac up the abrupt steep that overhangs it 
 to the thick wooded side of the Heights on the Maryland 
 shore. You might enjoy the tangled pathway through the 
 woods ; you would certainly find a thirsty pleasure at the 
 spring of pure water which pulses from the heart of the 
 mountain ; a,nd when you came out of the silent wood-path 
 upon a broad table-flat, and found it white with tents and 
 alive with armed men and vocal with martial music, you 
 would wonder, as King George before the dumpling, how 
 the d 1 we got there. This is precisely what I am going 
 to tell you. Giving you first, however, a moment to cast 
 your delighted eyes up the Potomac Valley to the blue hills 
 beyond, and across Harper s Ferry town to the gorge of the 
 Shenandoah, which gives the name to the lazy military de 
 partment which waits a new life from the energy of General 
 Banks. And, interrupting you again, to say that I have all 
 your letters safe, and have every pleasure in reading them 
 and in rereading them. Now for the story. In this melt 
 ing heat of the sultriest afternoon my memory is relaxed, 
 and I cannot recollect when I wrote. On Sunday, however, 
 the army moved across the Potomac and occupied Mary 
 land Heights below Sandy Hook, leaving the Massachusetts 
 Second in full possession of Harper s Ferry. The Colonel 
 leaving the upper part of the town where we had been, I 
 
62 
 
 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 spent Sunday evening in posting our pickets and outposts, 
 and in taking what military precautions were possible 
 against a night surprise and attack. Of course we spent a 
 wakeful night, though I could not think there was any 
 chance of attack. The next morning I was off again on the 
 road towards Charlestown to fix a point for a strong picket, 
 and generally to cruise about the country. Colonel An 
 drews and myself spent three hours in sunny riding (you 
 don t quite appreciate the meaning of the sunny South). 
 When we got back we found that Colonel Gordon had got 
 an order changing the disposition of our forces thus : Colo 
 nel Andrews to remain in Harper s Ferry with three com 
 panies (Captains Gary s, Abbott s, and Cogswell s), a battery 
 of three guns to be mounted on the table-land above the 
 ford on the Maryland shore, and the rest of the regiment to 
 cross and encamp near it, to support the battery and pro 
 tect the ford. This sounds plain and easy, but it gave us a 
 lively afternoon. I will tell you the story by and by. Now 
 the call is sounding for dress-parade. The heat is ridicu 
 lous. I have philosophized myself, however, into great good 
 spirits, and I do not wilt. With humility I hope to get 
 through. Now for parade 
 
 " If you had happened in on our parade you would have 
 had the pleasure to see me preside. We do not look as 
 gay as we did at Camp Andrew, but we also do not have 
 so many friends to see us. I have got my tent finely 
 pitched, with a rich carpet of oak-leaves, and have extem 
 porized a writing-desk. Tattoo is just beating, and I will go 
 on with my story. 
 
 " After the order to divide our forces came, the regiment 
 was soon paddling and splashing through the water. We 
 left Colonel Andrews making everything secure. The regi 
 ment mounted the steep ascent on this side, and at last 
 made the plateau. But our wagons, which had to take a 
 longer and more circuitous ascent, were not so lucky ; and 
 tentless, almost supperless, the men bivouacked for the 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. 63 
 
 night. The officers found a friendly supper in the house of 
 a man on whose farm we are, the only inhabitant of the 
 neighborhood, if that can be called a neighborhood where 
 neighbors there are none. This farmer* knew John Brown ; 
 and, indeed. John Brown s school-house, where he hid his 
 arms, is down just below our camp, in the woods. I may 
 exaggerate the effect of John Brown, but certain it is that 
 the whole military organization in Virginia dates from his 
 raid. And the other day a woman said, 6 We have not 
 dared to command our slaves since John Brown came.* 
 The man s name is a terror and a bitterness to them. To 
 day we have been getting our wagons up, pitching tents, 
 organizing an encampment. In Colonel Andrews s absence 
 this falls a good deal on me. New work is hard work, but 
 the aptitude, I suppose, will come. I suppose when an old 
 dog is going to learn new tricks he does not do it in dog- 
 days. I certainly should like to take my lessons in cooler 
 weather. I have been riding about the hills a good deal, 
 and have been to head-quarters to see General Banks. Old 
 Mr. Weller generalized quite broadly when he said, Sam 
 my, a man as can form a ackerate judgment of a horse can 
 form a ackerate judgment of anything. Perhaps we gen 
 eralize a little rapidly in making Governor Banks the com 
 mander of a division and a department. We shall see. 
 Just now military civilians must look sharp lest they fall. 
 I am making a long story of very little, but if I could have 
 brought you up to our sunset view, you would have easily 
 understood the new pleasure of our fine camp life after the 
 dull work of garrisoning Harper s Ferry. It does no good 
 to write of scenery, you want to hear of achievement. We 
 must wait for that. Think of us, now in perfect safety, 
 getting ready for better things, I hope. The events of the 
 past week show that every man who is fit for it must 
 do his part to fight now." 
 
 * See Appendix VIII. 
 
64 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 " MARYLAND HEIGHTS, DEP T OP THE SHEXANDOAH, 
 July 31, 1861, in Camp. 
 
 " Three letters ? ! Yes, one from you, one from father, one 
 from C. Blake, all at once. The sun shines less fiercely, 
 and the glaring afternoon has lost its power, or is forgotten. 
 I write in the memory of yesterday. This morning the 
 rattle of the rain-drops on my tent roused me before the 
 regular reveille* of the drum, and I am writing now, after 
 breakfast, to the same cool music. If you really like to 
 listen to the monotony of our eventless experience, I cannot 
 do less than to write it for you. Yesterday was a busy day. 
 Battalion drill after breakfast, and then a ride with Colonel 
 Gordon over the mountain to head-quarters. We climbed, 
 by a rough path cut two months ago by the Rebels, to the 
 very top of the mountain. There we found a picket from 
 the Twelfth Massachusetts Regiment (Colonel Webster), 
 and upon the lookout floated the American flag. After a 
 wide survey and a view most glorious, we descended the 
 other side of the mountain to head-quarters. There, busi 
 ness and a short chat with Major Doubleday, whose battery 
 is there in position. By the new organization of brigades, 
 Doubleday is in ours. He is of Fort Sumter fame, as you 
 know, and is a fine fellow with a grand battery. 
 
 " I wrote thus far yesterday evening, and was expect 
 ing a quiet rainy day, when out blazed the sun and kin 
 dled our work again. Rations were to be issued, &c., 
 then, at noon, came the sudden order : Pack wagons with 
 everything, and prepare to bivouac for several days. It 
 seems head-quarters got frightened about our wagons. The 
 road is so exposed that, in case of attack, they would certainly 
 be lost. Our pretty encampment had to yield, therefore, to 
 the necessities of war. It made a long afternoon, and when 
 the tents were struck, the wagons loaded, and the balking 
 and unwilling teams made to draw, we were enjoying an 
 other sunset. The men were sent into the woods to cut 
 brush for huts, and there sprang up a camp of green leaves, 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OP WILDER DWIGHT. 65 
 
 as if by magic. I am now writing under a bower of chest 
 nut leaves, and am quite fascinated by my new quarters. 
 The inconvenience of sending off all your luggage, most of 
 your bedding and camp furniture, is not a slight one. In 
 the absence of other hardships and perils, one con make a 
 hardship of that. Last night we had an animated time. 
 Just after taps one of our pickets fired, and it turned out 
 that a man was prowling through the bushes. Soon- after 
 an excited Indiana picket fired on our men in a small picket 
 down the hill, and that kicked up a small bobbery. But 
 the morning makes all quiet again. The mists are lifting 
 from the river and hillsides, and the day is already started 
 on its uncertain course again. The kitchen fires are smok 
 ing, the axes are ringing in the wood. Jim along Josey, 
 or sick-call, has just sounded. The thoughts turn fondly on 
 breakfast. Good by. Love to all." 
 
 "MARYLAND HEIGHTS, Augusts, 1861, in Bivouac. 
 
 " Our new leafy camp presents an odd appearance. Two 
 or three ingenious men belonging to the band have fitted me 
 up a bedstead of branches and boughs, and have thatched 
 my tent with leaves, so that the breeze rustles cool through 
 it as I write. But we have few incidents. The bugler is 
 teaching the skirmish calls, which makes a confused variety 
 of very bad music ; but except that, we are in the sultry still 
 ness of high noon 
 
 " I think we are doomed to a life of warm inaction for 
 many weeks, while the awakened North will, I trust, give 
 itself cordially to the task of organization. We must have 
 an immense army. We must feed it, teach it, equip it, and 
 all this must be done without delay. We must pay it 
 promptly too. Our men all suffer now for want of the few 
 comforts their pay would bring. Again, we must feed them 
 well, honestly, not with bad meat or mouldy bread. I be 
 lieve a little attention to these two matters will shorten the 
 war six months. We demand a great deal of the men, we 
 
 5 
 
66 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 must give them all they are entitled to, and we must do this 
 a great deal better than it has been done. I could write 
 much on this score, but I am not inspector-general, my 
 report will not go to head-quarters, so I will try to give you 
 something more lively. Yet these are the pressing thoughts 
 of one in the system who feels its pressure. Men willing 
 and devoted you can have ; but one central, organizing will 
 you cannot have, I fear. Never mind, we have got to 
 accomplish the result sooner or later. Only I think I can 
 see most clearly how it ought to be done. Health is a con 
 dition of courage, and without it you cannot have an army 
 Yet there are colonels, within three miles of us, who have 
 not had their men in bathing within a month, though the 
 rivers flow close by. Discipline is another condition of con 
 certed and organized movement ; yet, in several regiments, 
 obedience is the exception, and orders take the shape of dif 
 fident requests. This has been unavoidable in the three 
 months militia. It must be corrected in the three years 
 army that is to fight the war. Here I am preaching 
 away on the same text. I will stop and try again to 
 morrow. 
 
 " Sunday has come, and brought with it the usual inspec 
 tion of the regiment. Under the glaring sun, it was a 
 severer work than common. The Colonel was bent upon 
 having it thoroughly done, however, and so we made a long 
 story of it. On our outpost, special duty, the regiment 
 must be kept efficiently ready for sudden emergencies ; and 
 all matters which at Camp Andrew might have seemed 
 merely formal, here assume practical and obvious impor 
 tance. The hard work, hot weather, and soldier s fare 
 begin to tell upon the men, and they are not as well satis 
 fied as they were. They see the undertaking in a new form, 
 and they are in the worst stages of homesickness too. The 
 contagious disorderliness of other regiments, with lower 
 standards of discipline and drill, also has its bad effect on 
 them. Again, the inaction is depressing to the men, and 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 67 
 
 they long for an occasion to fight. Still further, the want 
 of vigorous health is a predisposing cause of discontent. 
 The result is, that the regiment seems to lack willingness, 
 obedience, enthusiasm, and vigor. It wants what is called 
 tone morale. How to get it ? There is the problem. Colo 
 nel Andrews has been over to see me to-day, and we have 
 been talking regiment for a couple of hours. Yexing our 
 minds with problems, and inquiring eagerly for solutions. 
 I do not mean to intimate that we are not better off than 
 others. I trust we are, much. In all military and mate 
 rial advantages, we certainly have got the start of them. 
 And in these respects we are making every effort to hold 
 our own. But there are and will be new problems before 
 us at every step. Several of our officers are sick or disabled, 
 and we are working with a short allowance. This adds to 
 the bother. There you have the lees of a conversation with 
 the Lieutenant-Colonel, which I have just finished. It indi 
 cates a few of the perplexities that belong to my position, 
 but you need not let them discourage you. Nor do I allow 
 them to halt me on my way. The march is to be kept up, 
 and the obstacles are to be overcome or removed. Still, let 
 no one think that because we are not fighting battles, there 
 fore we are not serving our country. With all diffidence, 
 and awaiting the correction of experience, I think we are 
 now doing our hardest work. I should not write so much 
 on this subject if it were not filling my mind completely. 
 The same languor, undoubtedly, is creeping over the army 
 everywhere. The only remedy for the trouble is to bring 
 the men to their duty with a strong hand. The romance is 
 gone. The voluntariness has died out in the volunteer. He 
 finds himself devoted to regular service. A regular ho must 
 be made, and the rules and articles of war, in all their arbi 
 trary severity, will not sit lightly upon him. So much for 
 my Sunday sermon. I got your pleasant note of Thursday 
 yesterday afternoon. I hope the boys will enjoy the Adiron- 
 dacks. I am having my camp-life, this summer, on other 
 
68 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 terms. Everything goes well with me. I never was happier 
 in my life." 
 
 "MONDAY MORNING, August 5, 5 A. M, 
 
 " I am just going to battalion drill. All is well, and the 
 sun is not yet over the mountain, though we see its glow on 
 the clouds. Good by." 
 
 "DEPARTMENT SHENANDOAH, MARYLAND HEIGHTS, 
 August 8, 1861. 
 
 " I am in the midst of pay rolls and pay accounts, trying 
 to get the regiment paid. Two days ago I went to Wash 
 ington, made a flying visit to the Department, and, I think, 
 got our pay business in shape. Spent several hours with 
 William at his camp, found everything in good order there. 
 I should think he would make a capital colonel. Wish I felt 
 sure of making as good a major. Find no end of bother in 
 this whole business. Keep up good courage, and, I believe, 
 good nature. Am driven to death, as one might say, and 
 yet it seems to me as if I was only driven to a livelier life. 
 Can t help feeling very thankful for health and strength, 
 which I pray for. The hill is steep, the way is long ; I 
 must be climbing : would much rather write to you, 
 
 shall get leisure soon Those men who sit at home 
 
 indulging their spleen had better come out here and work it 
 off. Let us shorten this war, or it will shorten us. Wash 
 ington is in the dumps. All ivill yet be well. Your letter, 
 yesterday, was a god-send." 
 
 " DEPARTMENT SHENANDOAH, MARYLAND HEIGHTS, 
 August 10, 1861. 
 
 " How pleasant of Saturday night, when you ve tried all 
 the week to be good, &c. Pleasant, indeed, of a Saturday 
 night to note the gathering clouds, and to look up through 
 the withered and twinkling thatch of your rude boughs, and 
 to think of the 4 drop too much you will be taking all 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 69 
 
 night. The muttering thunder will be the sound of rev 
 elry, and the pattering rain will soon be falling. Yet it 
 is pleasant of Saturday night to have tho retrospect of busiest 
 occupation, the prospect of a quiet Sunday. There is the 
 uncertainty, too, which spices every joy. Let me just sched- 
 iile my day for you, and you will see that life is not exactly 
 a dream, and if a shadow, a most substantial one. Half 
 past four, A. M. The Major wakes and wonders where c that 
 first call is. Quarter before five, A. M., he is getting up 
 to the intrusive melody of that sleepless reveille. Five, 
 A. M., he is walking about camp to see that things is 
 workin . Half past five, A. M., he is strapping on his 
 sword, and, with the bugler, going out on to the broad 
 field with six companies to skirmish-drill. Soon the men 
 are scattered over the plain, rallying, deploying, advancing, 
 retreating, firing, ceasing to fire, lying down, getting up, 
 swarming in masses, and scattering again singly, double- 
 quicking upon their reserves, forming squares to resist im 
 aginary cavalry, forming column again, &c., &c. This, in 
 the cool of the morning, in obedience to the bugle-note 
 which obeys him. Then, again, at a quarter to seven, the 
 companies return. The Major goes to the kitchens and 
 sees what each company is going to have for breakfast. 
 Then, at eight o clock, comes first mail. The Major franks 
 the soldier s letters, attends to requisitions, <fec., looks up 
 the Tactics. At half past nine he goes out to battalion drill. 
 The sun blazes, the regiment manoeuvres. It breaks into 
 column ; it forms into line ; it closes into a square ; it again 
 shapes itself into column and line ; and the sunshine glows 
 with satisfaction over all. The impatient Colonel urges on 
 the movements. The Major flies round and means well. 
 Two hours have passed and he returns ; 0, how hot ! His 
 horse is ordered, and, at twelve, he is in the saddle, on his 
 way to head-quarters. There is always business enough to 
 make him late to dinner, at two, P. M. At three the mail 
 comes, and brings the refreshment of a letter or the disap- 
 
70 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 pointment of none. Perhaps the saddle again in the after 
 noon ; perhaps other work ; perhaps a nap. At half past 
 five, drill again ; at half past six, parade. In the evening, 
 tactics, picket posting, discussion, reflection, schemes, bick 
 erings, <fcc., &c. And bed soon after taps at half past nine. 
 Bed in the open field. Rest conditional and precarious, 
 broken by the frown of the sky, or by the false alarms of 
 trepid sentinels. But rest which, scorning all these acci 
 dental obstacles, these chances and mischances, comes will 
 ingly and wooingly to eyelids that have gazed their fill of 
 wakeful activity. So, da capo, one day treads closely on 
 another, and variety is always at hand. Here I give you 
 the prose of it, the treadmill without the song. But there 
 is poetry in it, too. There is a sentiment which gives the 
 impulse to this duty, and which rewards and Tialos the effort. 
 I have been to Washington, and returned with a sort of 
 desperate, teeth-set determination to do all that I can within 
 the sphere of my duty. It seems to me that the country 
 wants active, busy, self-forgetting endeavor. More than 
 that, it needs guidance from a wisdom that has not guided 
 it yet. It makes me chafe with indignation to see the help 
 lessness of the administration. Misconceiving the emer 
 gency, mismeasuring their foe ; dallying with a rabble of 
 volunteers when they should be disciplining soldiers. Think 
 ing, forsooth, that bold conspirators, with the halter at the 
 end of one path and wealth and honors looming in the other 
 vista, do not mean to fight for their very existence. Where 
 is the evidence, either of civil or military administrative 
 faculty, in anything they (the administration) have done ? 
 Where is the will ? Who is the leader ? McClellan, they 
 hope. It is a hope so young and tender, yet so fair in its 
 promise, that I will indulge it ; yet it is only a hope. Are 
 we to drift into another Bull Run ? If not, we must all 
 wake up. Those unappreciative politicians had not the tact 
 or energy to utilize the first noble impulse of the country 
 when it leapt to arms. Now they will find the drooping 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OP WILDER DWIGHT. 71 
 
 influence of mismanagement and defeat a fearful obstacle, 
 as I forebode. But out of this nettle I pluck one flower, 
 namely, that I can be of service ; and it cheers me to hope 
 that, by active and constant endeavor, I may, perhaps, do 
 my small mite towards organization and efficiency. I wish I 
 could do more. To will is present with me. At all events, 
 let men awake to it. The opportunity to save the country 
 will not wait much longer. A leader, however, we must 
 
 have But too much of this. The darker the sky, 
 
 the warmer my purpose. 
 
 " But I cannot help writing a little of the atmosphere 
 that is about us. They say that when some prating talker 
 in Washington told McClellan, You have undertaken a 
 fearful task, he quietly replied, I know it, and I can do 
 it? Whether vero or bentrovato, I hail the omen. The rain 
 drops now and then upon my paper. The camp is quieting 
 itself to sleep. The other morning General Banks came 
 over to our camp and happened in on a battalion drill. The 
 Colonel rattled things, and General Banks was delighted. 
 It was a clever drill, and General Banks thought it better 
 than it was, so we are the pet of head-quarters. I wrote 
 you a line after my return from Washington. Colonel Wil 
 liam reigns at his camp, as of course he would. 1 think 
 his military career will credit him. He has the energy and 
 purpose for achievement. He gives spirit to his men. Bar 
 ring accident or impatience, he will do well. If every man 
 will be content to fill his place in this war, without pushing 
 for the next higher, all will go well. 
 
 " I broke off, last night, at this point, and now it is Sun 
 day morning, before breakfast. A bright, glowing morning, 
 with mists rising from the river and hills, promising a hot 
 day. The Doctor is at the door of my bower, as he calls it, 
 beckoning me away to breakfast. The Doctor s servant got 
 hold of some whiskey, the other night, which had been 
 seized from a secessionist, and got crazy drunk with it. He 
 roused the whole camp. He had gone off in the woods, and 
 
72 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 suddenly fancied himself commanding an army, and made 
 the woods resound with forward, charge bayonets, &c., 
 &G. He had to be tied and gagged, which made an inci 
 dent for the late evening. The Doctor* is now reproving 
 him with copious satire. Peas on the trencher, or break 
 fast-call, is beating. I will go to breakfast, and later, will 
 
 wind up my story 
 
 " You say that the three months men ought not to come 
 back. Yes they ought, unless in the presence of imme 
 diate duty. You cannot expect anything else. But it 
 was a big blunder having three months men. The law is 
 at fault, not the men. Human nature is not such an ex 
 alted thing that you can expect men to move by regiments, 
 and at a double-quick, in the path of duty and self-sacrifice. 
 Here and there one, but not armies, move voluntarily in that 
 direction. Impulse is transitory. Continued and sustained 
 hard work, hunger and discomfort are not palatable 
 
 " Monday Morning. 
 
 " Rain ! rain ! rain ! since yesterday noon. And such a 
 night ! Pouring water, India-rubber blankets ! Dripping 
 from the branches and leaves of my bower like a damp cave 
 with its dropping stalactites. A leak here and a wet place 
 there on the bed. A sudden, more violent shower. The 
 Doctor wakes in his bower, and says, By Jove, I might as 
 well try to sleep on lily-pads in a pond. The Major cachi- 
 nates. The Colonel rouses himself and laughs in his drib 
 bling bower. Doctor, again : There, my pistol is wet to 
 the skin. At last, morning, and still rain. So we go. 
 To-morrow, sun again. I wish you all health and happiness. 
 Let us pray for a strong government, bent on immediate 
 
 * Lucius Manlius Sargent, Jr , then Surgeon of the Second Massachusetts 
 Infantry, afterwards Lieutenant-Colonel of the Second Massachusetts Cavalry. 
 In a " most gallant charge " upon the enemy, near Bellefield, Virginia, he fell 
 mortally wounded on the 9th of December, 1864. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 73 
 
 "DEPARTMENT SHENANDOAII, MARYLAND HEIGHTS, 
 August 15, 1861. 
 
 " I have, probably, just time, this morning, to report to 
 you our progress. The cold and wet made our tents an 
 absolute necessity to us, and so yesterday General Banks 
 ordered them brought on to the hill. The bushes were 
 swept away, and again the plain whitened with our tents ; 
 and, as if to celebrate the occasion, the dull sky broke, the 
 sun came out, and at evening the band was playing in the 
 moonlight, and we were in camp again. Only our tents 
 were left by the wagons. The rest of the baggage pru 
 dently retired behind the hill before sunset. 
 
 " Yesterday the accounts from down the river of skir 
 mishings and of a movement of the enemy kept up a flight 
 of lively rumors through the camps. Two of the pieces of 
 our battery were taken down the hill, and there was a 
 preparation for movement, if necessary. We heard nothing 
 during the night, however, and this morning, as the mist 
 rises, it does not disclose the rapid advance of cavalry or 
 the frowning presence of angry batteries. It is odd, how 
 ever, to notice how imaginative are the optics of some men 
 in camp. They are always seeing the enemy. A wagon- 
 load of rails seems a squadron of cavalry. A large Mon 
 day s wash near the horizon is an encampment. A clump 
 of firs with two cows and a flock of sheep are as many as a 
 thousand infantry. Their heated fancy detects a heavy 
 cannonading or the rattle of musketry in every sound. All 
 these thick-coming fancies are dissipated by a correct ear, 
 
 or resolved by a good glass. It is a part of our life 
 
 I am giving personal attention to every detail of feeding 
 and clothing, and expect to get the system so organized that 
 it must always work right. It does work so now, but, in 
 the exigencies of service, there are hitches and rubs inevit 
 able. To allow for friction in human affairs, and to over 
 come it, is a problem that, in all new enterprises, has to be 
 learned out of practical, experimental teachings. 
 
74 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 What an outrage it is that the newspaper reporters cannot 
 be checked ! Yesterday s New York Times contains a full 
 statement of number and strength of the regiments with 
 this Division. These papers go South freely. Think what 
 it would be to us if we could have daily papers from the 
 South with statements of their forces, positions, and move 
 ments. It would give certainty to what is now the chief 
 element of uncertainty. But the South does not allow the 
 printing of such information, and would not let it come 
 North if it did. I do not see how we can succeed, if we do 
 
 not take the obvious precaution of military affairs 
 
 I must go and see about a survey of condemned bread, 
 
 about an issue of new shoes, about drill, &c., &c We 
 
 are building a road over the mountain fit for the passage 
 of artillery and wagons. That keeps two companies busy 
 every day. 
 
 " Wednesday Evening. 
 
 " Yesterday was made famous and busy by the arrival 
 of the paymaster, laden with gold. I was active all the 
 afternoon, getting the men to the pay-table with order and 
 system. Harper s Ferry was quiet, showing no sign. Or 
 ders came to go over there with a small force and destroy 
 the mill and remaining wheat of Mr. Herr. Colonel Andrews 
 was despatched with two companies. Delays in crossing 
 brought their work into the night. The artillery was no 
 longer a protection. Colonel Gordon determined to recall 
 the party. I went to do it. The Doctor and I crossed at 
 about eight o clock. Found the town deserted. The panic- 
 stricken had left. Blinds were closed. Deadness every 
 where. Went up to the mill, ordered in the companies. 
 At half past nine o clock we were returning, in the moon 
 light, over the river, companies in flat-boats, a magnifi 
 cent night. But the uncertainty of moonlight did not favor 
 the nature of our enterprise, and would aid them. There 
 is no appearance of any force near Harper s Ferry. I do 
 not believe the enemy are in any strength near us. Their 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 75 
 
 cavalry comes in cautiously every day, and presses teams, 
 &c. The town has run away from itself, and it is sad to see 
 the change since our entry. Sad to hear the accounts of 
 oppression and ruin which come to us from the Union 
 people who are running from the sinking ship. 
 
 " This morning, Colonel Andrews has just gone off with 
 a company to complete the destruction of the mill. We 
 have orders to leave Harper s Ferry, and go to Buckeyes- 
 town, or some such euphonious place. I suppose that be 
 fore night we shall have our tents struck, and be on the 
 march again." 
 
76 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 LETTERS FROM CAMP BELOW SANDY HOOK. CAMP STAMPEDE. 
 MARYLAND HEIGHTS. BUCKEYESTOWN. ROCKVILLE. WASH 
 INGTON. CAMP NEAR DARNESTOWN. 
 
 " CAMP BELOW SANDY HOOK, August 18, 1861. 
 
 " ~T)ROGRESS is the law of life. Therefore retreat is 
 abnormal and depressing. When I looked at Har 
 per s Ferry drifting again under bare poles into secessionism, 
 I felt low. There was the flagstaff in the silent town, 
 the flag had just been hauled down. The last flat-boat, 
 with its last company, was coming across the river. On 
 Friday evening the orders came to strike tents, leave a force 
 on the Heights, and for the regiment to be ready to move. 
 Colonel Gordon left me, with three companies, on our old 
 ground. He took the rest below and waited the crossing of 
 the river by Colonel Andrews. 
 
 " It was just at dusk when the regiment moved off. The 
 mists were drifting thickly down the mountain sides as the 
 men wound off into the woods. I posted a new guard, got 
 the men under cover as well as I could, and awaited the 
 inevitable rain. We were without tents and without huts. 
 The night passed wearily in a driving rain. The bands were 
 playing confusedly on the other side of the mountain, as 
 the forces were moving down the river. At last came light 
 enough to call it Saturday morning. I was up and out 
 agitating the breakfast question. By good luck I got hold 
 of some stores accidentally left by the Quartermaster, and 
 distributing them, succeeded in getting a hot breakfast into 
 my three wet companies. Then I waited orders. At last 
 Colonel Andrews brought them. I got the men in march 
 ing order, and in the blue rain we started. I got my com- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 77 
 
 mand safely down to the river, and rejoined the regiment in 
 Sandy Hook, where I found it just ready to march. Then 
 again came orders to remain to hold Sandy Hook, and to 
 send a force over to Harper s Ferry to seize all the flour in 
 Herr s mill. Colonel Andrews returned to the Ferry with 
 five companies. All last night the flour was coming across 
 the river in boats. Our friend Mr. Herr was treated very 
 unceremoniously, but he liked it. He seemed to think it a 
 choice between secession bonds and Union gold ; and if he 
 could get the latter for his flour, he would be content. So 
 the troops seized his premises and took his flour, and he 
 acquiesced with a good grace. The rest of the regiment 
 came down two miles below Harper s Ferry, and here we 
 are, this Sunday morning, waiting to be joined by Colonel 
 Andrews s companies, who have recrossed the river this 
 morning, with all their flour safe on this side. I am scrib 
 bling this letter in the Doctor s tent, interrupted by ques 
 tions, and bothered by difficulties of commissariat. These 
 sudden moves and this detached service are hard tests of 
 ingenuity. You see all the army conveniences move with 
 the army. The regiment that is left behind is ill provided. 
 We have been using the telegraph, and killing fresh beef, 
 and seizing flour, and I think we shall not go hungry. The 
 impression seems to be, that an attempt will be made by the 
 Rebels to reach Baltimore, or get round Washington. That 
 is thought to be the cause of our movement. If such an 
 
 attempt is made, it will fail My baggage is all gone. 
 
 I have nothing but a tent and a blanket, and so am free 
 from care. Colonel Gordon is just galloping into camp. 
 Orders are out for striking tents. We shall soon be in the 
 midst of the work of getting into shape in a new camp 
 nearer Harper s Ferry." 
 
 " CAMP BELOW SANDY HOOK, August 18, 1861. 
 
 " Well, not so quiet and slow a Sunday, after all. When 
 I closed and mailed my letter this morning, on the abrupt 
 
78 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 order to i strike tents and pack wagons, I did not foresee 
 the briskness of the day. The whole regiment, with much 
 expedition, got upon its new camping-ground nearer the 
 hills and nearer Harper s Ferry. At one o clock the field 
 of our new encampment was already white. At about three 
 I started on my horse to ride down to the canal and hurry 
 off the boat-load of flour that had been seized. Before I 
 got there I met the report that the Rebel cavalry had en 
 tered Harper s Ferry, and that our men were firing on them 
 from the opposite bank of the Potomac. I hurried on and 
 galloped into Sandy Hook. The citizens had gathered un 
 der the protection of some buildings. When I got to the 
 Ferry, just above where the old bridge was burnt, I found 
 Captain Cogswell s company, which was there stationed, 
 watching its chances to fire on the enemy who might show 
 themselves in the town opposite. Colonel Andrews, who 
 was there superintending the exit of the flour, was watching 
 to direct their fire. They had succeeded in dismounting one 
 or two horsemen, and in scattering the whole body round 
 the point beyond the hill. Lieutenant Brown, who was 
 loading the ferry-boat, saw the cavalry coming down the 
 Shenandoah road. His citizen workmen fled incontinently. 
 His soldiers put the few remaining barrels on board, includ 
 ing that portion of flour which was the promised pay of the 
 citizen workmen, Brown telling them afterwards they had 
 lost it by running. Colonel Andrews immediately ordered 
 some of Captain Cogswell s men to climb the hill so as to 
 bring the Rebel horse within range. Their shots scattered 
 the cavalry who had formed in the square by the Armory. 
 A brisk interchange of shots ensued. Captain Gary s com 
 pany was stationed above, on the Potomac, to guard the 
 ford. A fatigue party from his company were down at the 
 river-bank obstructing the passage-way from the ford. The 
 Rebels opened fire on them. 
 
 " Captain Gary deployed his company as skirmishers, and 
 they returned the whistling bullets. I arrived just as the 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OP WILDER DWIGIIT. 79 
 
 fire was ceasing. After starting the boat, which, as good 
 luck would have it, had on board every barrel of flour seized 
 except thirty kept for our own use, I went on to give some 
 orders to Captain Gary. I found him and his company in 
 cheerful temper, and watching for good shots. Then I 
 went up the hill to our lookout. Lieutenant Horton was 
 there with a picket. He pointed out where the troops had 
 been, and I also saw a retreating body of horse on the 
 Charlestown road. Leaving him, I returned to Colonel 
 Andrews, below, at the ford, found everything quiet, and 
 then came back to camp to report. This evening I have 
 been again to Sandy Hook, and all is quiet. We think it is 
 only a sudden dash to prevent our seizure of the flour which 
 they coveted. By working all night we had got our prey 
 the right side of the swift river, and the boat went out of 
 range of them on the canal just as they got to the ferry. 
 Our position, too, on the side of the mountain in shelter of 
 the trees, enabled us to sprinkle our shots freely through 
 the town. So their scheme failed. Still we may from time 
 to time exchange shots with them. We are well posted. 
 They cannot cross the river easily, and we are not in force 
 to attempt it, so there is no danger, and much amusement 
 and liveliness in possible store for us. Our flour and some 
 other stores taken have given us a fine commissariat. We 
 have plenty to eat, and are in good spirits. 
 
 " A scout from Harper s Ferry reports a company of in 
 fantry in one of their churches. So our successors followed 
 close upon our heels." 
 
 " CAMP STAMPEDE, MARYLAND HEIGHTS, 
 Tuesday Evening, August 20, 1861. 
 
 " A soldier s life is always gay ! Yesterday, Colonel An 
 drews and I went out prospecting, as they say in this coun 
 try, reconnoitring, I prefer to call it. 
 
 " At the Ferry we found a slight panic caused by the 
 reported advent of a few cavalry in the town. Colonel 
 A. and I went on up the mountnin and spent the afternoon 
 
80 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 in looking about, &c. We wound down the new mountain 
 road, built by the immortal Massachusetts Second, just at 
 sunset, after enjoying the glorious views up the two valleys. 
 Then we had a quiet dress-parade, and composed ourselves 
 for the night. Composed ourselves for the night ! Here 
 comes the incident of my letter. Now for the catastrophe 
 of my story. The Doctor appeared at the door of my tent, 
 breaking the first sleep, to say the Colonel had just received 
 a special message, and ridden off on horse. I refused to 
 be disturbed or excited, and got asleep again. At half past 
 one the Colonel appeared. Major, get the tents struck, and 
 set the men cooking rations. I have information that the 
 Rebels are advancing on Harper s Ferry. Up I went. 
 Captains were awakened. Soon the camp was silently busy 
 on its work for starting. Then I was ordered to saddle my 
 horse and get a messenger to call the Massachusetts Thir 
 teenth, Colonel Leonard, from Sharpsburg. I went gallop 
 ing off in the night through the fields to a house where a 
 Union man lives, who gave me the direction of a safe mes 
 senger, then back to camp. Then Dr. Sargent was de 
 spatched to Berlin, down the river, to get two pieces of 
 artillery which General Banks had ordered up to protect 
 the ford. Then the camp-fires were glowing, and I spent 
 an hour among the cooks, urging on the rations. Then the 
 dawn began to peep. Colonel Andrews went up the hill to 
 gaze, through the first light, at Harper s Ferry and its sur 
 roundings. Light brought the conviction that our haste 
 was premature. 
 
 " The packed wagons were ready to move. The regi 
 ment was ready to hold ford and ferry as long as possible, 
 and we were all agog. The morning came, and no enemy 
 were in position. We had our stampede. The reports of 
 the enemy were circumstantial and probable, but the appear 
 ance failed to confirm them. , This morning the camp is 
 composed again. But life has been lively and brisk, though 
 fruitless, for the last twelve hours 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 81 
 
 " Here comes the Colonel, who has been down to Sandy 
 Hook. He brings news that the paymaster is coming. 
 Hurrah ! Also that three hundred car-loads of troops went 
 into Washington on Monday. Good ! 
 
 " We are awaking, I hope, to the size of the work. A 
 short war is the policy, but a war. I am glad you are get 
 ting awake to it. No one who can come, effectively, has a 
 right to stay at home." 
 
 " BUCKEYESTOWN, August 23, 1861, Friday, in Camp. 
 
 " I began a letter before breakfast this morning, but my 
 pen dragged so that I tore it up. Now I have a short time, 
 and perhaps not a long story, but certainly a good breakfast 
 to tell it on. And this same matter of a good breakfast is 
 not a small one. The foraging on a march is not easy. 
 Chickens and eggs and bread and butter and milk, <fcc., all 
 have to be extemporized by our darkies, as we go along. 
 Sometimes we do well ; sometimes, badly. This morning, 
 being bent on eggs, I sent my little English groom off on 
 horseback. He went to a farm-house, into a hen-yard, and 
 waited for cackling. Presently he returned, and said : I ve 
 an egg for ye, sir. I waited till the hen laid it, and then 
 brought the hen and the egg. That is close work, I think. 
 
 " I sent you a letter Wednesday morning. Immediately 
 after came marching orders. I hurried off on horseback to 
 call in our scattered forces. First, I went to Harper s Ferry, 
 and found Colonel Andrews destroying our friend Herr s 
 mill. Herr was very sombre. His little boy, with whom 
 I have a friendship, rushed up to me, and said chokingly : 
 4 It is too bad to destroy the mill ; but it s the secessionists 
 that s the cause of it, is n t it, Major ? I told him, Yes. 
 Andrews was breaking the buckets of the turbine wheel, 
 and smashing the gearing of the mill. He had Company 
 A, from Lowell, who are the mechanics of our regiment. 
 He was sorry to be interrupted, but there was no remedy, 
 and so off he came. 
 
82 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. 
 
 " Then I went back and off on to Battery Hill to get the 
 artillery off; then again to recall an outlying picket on 
 top of the mountain ; then galloped back to camp to see 
 about rations ; then, at last, the regiment got in marching 
 array. The day was bright and cool, the regiment moved 
 off at twelve o clock. Hard bread in haversacks, and hop 
 ing for something better. Money in pocket, and, I am sorry 
 to say, an occasional excess of whiskey in a guilty canteen. 
 Pay-day has its evils, as I thought when directing two 
 drunken men to be tied and put in a wagon. 
 
 " We made a brisk march of twelve miles to Jefferson. 
 There we spent the night. The next morning, after a te 
 dious delay in a depressing rain to get our wagons mended, 
 we again moved on up, up, up a long hill in a close, muggy 
 dog-day. The men s knapsacks pulled on them, and when 
 we came on to our present camping-ground, at four o clock, 
 there was a long trail of lame ducks behind. They soon 
 came in, and now are looking forward to another tramp. 
 
 " The panic-stricken women and children pursued us, as 
 we came away from Harper s Ferry, not daring to remain 
 without our protection. The Rebels are foraging all through 
 the country there ; but nothing more than that appears to 
 be done anywhere, though rumor is trumpet-tongued with 
 reports of armies large enough to conquer the hemisphere. 
 Mark my prophecy. Beauregard lacks transportation. He 
 cannot move one hundred thousand men across the Poto 
 mac. This has prevented and will prevent his active opera 
 tions. But it is not improbable that there will be skirmishes 
 along the river." 
 
 " ROCKVILLE, MARYLAND, August 24, 1861. 
 
 " Here I turn up this evening, as much to my own sur 
 prise as yours. I got a short note on its way to you from 
 Buckeyestown, just before we were off. Friday morning at 
 twelve the general ? was beaten, and at the signal every 
 tent fell as by a single will. Then the assembly sounded, 
 and the regiment formed into line. The ceremony of start- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 83 
 
 ing was for the first time performed with promptness and 
 accuracy. We marched without knapsacks. The men were 
 all paid, and we rattled along briskly. Our wagons were 
 hardly as lucky, and, though the regiment got on to its camp 
 ing-ground soon after four, the wagons dragged slowly in 
 until nine. This made us late in camping, and late in sup 
 per. We were camped by the river-side, and the evening 
 had an autumn chill and a heavy dew. I know of nothing 
 more cheerless than the getting late into camp after a march. 
 Every one is tired ; every one is hungry ; every one is cross. 
 Every thing seems to be going wrong. Yet at last all the 
 men get their supper, or go without their supper. The 
 last camp-fire falls down into sullen coals. The last tent- 
 light fades out, and the chilly whiteness of the camp throws 
 back the paleness of the moon. As the dawn reddens, -re- 
 veill comes fresh as the lark, and soon the sunshine lights 
 up a busy scene. The men are rested, and have forgotten 
 their hunger in a good breakfast. The band plays gayly at 
 guard-mounting, and a fresh life begins for the day again. 
 Such was our experience of camp last night and this morn 
 ing. I was just composing myself to camp-life. We were 
 encamped with our brigade. The New York Ninth was on 
 our left. The two Wisconsin regiments were on the hill 
 above us. Webster s regiment was just beyond them. I 
 had listened to four reveilles in the morning, and soon after 
 breakfast the hills were alive with skirmishers at drill. I 
 was sitting in my tent when the Colonel called out, Major, 
 you must go to Washington. c What ! said I, to Wash 
 ington ? 4 Yes. You are ordered to go in command of 
 an escort of a large wagon-train, and are to report for in 
 structions immediately at head-quarters. 
 
 " I found that two parts of the train, consisting of one 
 hundred wagons each, had already gone on. The third was 
 expected from Frederick to-day. Captain Mudge s com 
 pany were ordered to escort that train when it arrived, and 
 I was directed to choose my own time, but to proceed to 
 
84 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 Washington, and see the wagons turned over to the Quarter 
 master, and take care of the battalion of three companies 
 while it remained in Washington, and march it back to 
 Hyattstown. The wagons to remain in Washington. The 
 train may be interrupted by Rebel cavalry, said Colonel 
 Cromman, the Quartermaster, i so it needs an escort. I 
 got everything in readiness, gave Captain Mudge his in 
 structions, and directed him to wait for the wagons. And 
 at three o clock this afternoon was in the saddle on my way 
 in pursuit of the other companies and trains. I had a 
 charming ride, a little warm at first. through a beauti 
 ful country, and animated by just the least uncertainty as 
 to the path. But I met nothing but respect for my uniform. 
 After a ride of eighteen miles I stopped at this town of 
 Rockville, the county seat, as they say in this country. I 
 selected a tavern that had a Union flag flying, and rejoiced 
 in the safe name of the Washington House. This is a 
 secession town of the worst kind, but they have not confi 
 dence enough yet to do anything more than look cross. At 
 the tea-table we were protected from the flies by a series of 
 fans worked by a rope and pulleys, and at the end of the 
 rope was a little negro girl who swung back and forth and 
 kept the fans moving indefatigably. It was an odd picture, 
 worthy of Eastman Johnson s pencil. I shall be in the saddle 
 again at five to-morrow morning, and in Washington before 
 eight." 
 
 " WASHINGTON, Sunday Morning, Quartermaster s Office. 
 
 " I had a fine ride this morning, and got to the War De 
 partment at eight o clock. Now I am waiting to find out 
 where to camp, and how to turn over the wagons, &c. A 
 maze without a plan does Washington seem to one who 
 comes into it as I have. Camps met my eye within six 
 miles of the city. I noticed, too, some fortifications of a 
 rude kind ; but of course from one glance I know only a 
 mass of things, nothing distinctly Washington is evi 
 dently safe enough, just as I knew it was." 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 85 
 
 " WASHINGTON, August 26th, 1861. 
 
 " I am probably to leave for home, i. e. camp, to-morrow. 
 Everything has gone quite well with me. I put up with my 
 classmate, A. S. Hill, who is the correspondent of the Tri 
 bune. I slept as well as one can in a bed. To-day I have 
 been in the saddle pursuing quartermasters, providing ra 
 tions, arranging for a departure to-morrow if possible. I 
 dined with William, and this evening we have been out 
 together to see General Couch s camp. William is in fine 
 spirits, full of energy and go. He is making his regiment 
 as perfect as the material will allow, and is full of his work. 
 I should be glad to feel in trim for a letter, but I am too 
 tired for it now ; besides, General Heintzelman, who had a 
 brigade, and was wounded at Bull Run, is in the room where 
 I write, and is talking of the fight with one or two newspaper 
 men who are in Hill s room, which is the Tribune head-quar 
 ters. The General is an unpretending man, and his conver 
 sation is interesting, my letter not. He says that * a sufficient 
 cause for the loss of the battle of Bull Run is, that a regi 
 ment appeared in front of Griffin s battery, within one hun 
 dred yards. The cannon were loaded with canister, just 
 ready to fire. An officer of our army came up and begged 
 Griffin not to fire, as the troops were our own. They carried 
 no flag ; the cannon were turned, and fired to another point, 
 then the regiment opened fire, killed all the cannoneers, 
 and took the battery. The discharge of that canister 
 would have cut that regiment to pieces, and changed the 
 result in that part of the field. These words are just from 
 his lips. It shows the importance of a uniform uniform, and 
 it shows the folly of States rights in every shape. But it 
 is not very profitable to speculate upon the various explana 
 tions of defeat. I think we are drawing lessons from that 
 battle. I think, too, that McClellan s spirit is a fine one. 
 Certainly there is more vigor, military ardor, and glow here 
 than with our column. Another influence and a stronger 
 spirit is at work here, and I want to get within its range." 
 
86 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 "CAMP NEAR DARNESTOWN, August 30, 1861. 
 
 " It is broad, bright noon ; the men are cooking their 
 breakfasts, the sun is drying out their clothes, the tents are 
 ready to pitch, the Brigade Quartermaster is sitting in our 
 tent rehearsing his exploits on the road, how one teamster 
 beat a horse s eye out ; how, if another had hawed instead 
 of geeing, all would have been well ; how the one-line Penn 
 sylvania saddle team-driving is better than our four-rein 
 driving of our wagons ; how this and how that would have 
 made the march easier, and a day march instead of a night 
 one. And such a march ! But I must go back and bring 
 myself from Washington. I wrote a hurried scratch one 
 evening while listening to General Heintzelman s account 
 of Bull Run. My next day was busy with the providing 
 for my companies, and getting a delivery of the wagons to 
 government. I was quartermaster, commissary, colonel, 
 major, and all in one. At last, however, I succeeded in 
 arranging things to my mind, and went out of town to my 
 camp at Georgetown. Here I had collected the three 
 companies which had come as escort of three separate trains. 
 Here, too, I had packed two of the trains. 
 
 " On Wednesday morning we made a good start from 
 camp, and Captain Handy, of the Webster regiment, led 
 the column briskly. We marched nineteen miles, a strong 
 day s work. It was a cloudy, drizzly day. The companies 
 came into camp at four o clock. Tents were pitched, sup 
 per got briskly. Captain Mudge, Lieutenants Shaw and 
 Robeson were the officers of the company from our regi 
 ment. 
 
 " Mr. Desellum,* who lived near our camping-ground, in 
 vited us to supper with him, and gave us what we all prized, 
 a good one. Appetite and digestion wait on one another 
 on a march. Mr. Desellum was a character. He had lived 
 on his place all his life, and never gone beyond the limits of 
 the two adjoining counties ; his father and grandfather were 
 
 * See Appendix VII. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 87 
 
 rooted in the same soil. He gave me a full account of the 
 surrounding country, and also a capital map. Both he and 
 his maiden sister were ardent Union lovers, and bitter in 
 their hatred of Jeff Davis. He was very calm and intelli 
 gent, formal and precise, full of talk of the war, of the 
 battles of Napoleon, &c. He lives with his sister in their 
 faultlessly clean home, with twenty-five negroes. When 
 asked if he owned slaves, No, the slaves own me, which, 
 I think, expresses his conscientious performance of his 
 duties. I gave orders to have reveille at four o clock in the 
 morning and to have a brisk start. I took pleasure in at 
 tempting to realize some of my theories about the march, 
 and had great satisfaction in accomplishing a good break 
 fast and an early start ; and before eight o clock in the 
 morning my men had marched from their camp on Muddy 
 Creek to Nealsville, eight miles. There we met the report 
 that the regiment had left Hyattstown, and was on the 
 march with the whole column. I halted my detachment, 
 and galloping on, met General Banks at the head of his 
 division. I reported to him, and got his order to direct my 
 companies to join their regiments when they came up. 
 Then I went on myself, back to see our regiment ; I found 
 them halted in a wood in the driving rain. After a greeting 
 with the Colonel, whom I found acting as brigadier of our 
 brigade in the absence of Colonel Abercrombie, I went back 
 again to wait with my companies the slow progress of the 
 column. It rained hard. The wagons made slow work. 
 At about one o clock our regiment, the first of the Second 
 Brigade, reached us at Nealsville. There we turned off 
 down towards Darnestown, a charming name ! 
 
 " At last we were pointed to a camping-ground at a place 
 called Pleasant Mountain, a valley or hill, I can t say 
 which. But where were our wagons ? Far back on the 
 heavy, wet, and swampy road. Just at dusk the regiment 
 fell down, tired, into the wet stubble, and the fog settled 
 chill upon it. The evening star looked mildly down, but it 
 
CO LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 gave no cheer. Colonel Andrews was sick, Colonel Gordon 
 in charge of the brigade. I did what I could, got the 
 guard posted, good fires built of the neighboring rail-fences, 
 in the absence of other wood, and then, wet and tired, lay 
 down myself. The march was mismanaged by the higher 
 powers. It was wretched to see our cold and hungry men 
 lying down dripping and supperless in the cold fog to sleep. 
 The start was a late one. The rain ruined the road, and 
 the delays were so many that the large column made a poor 
 business of its day s work. This morning at five I hurried 
 off to get up the wagons. The sun rose clear. By dint of 
 activity, getting a party to mend road, &c., the wagons came 
 in about ten o clock, and hope revived. I also got a cup of 
 tea and a breakfast, and I revived. Such is our life. I 
 have certainly been active for a week, and now, to-day, comes 
 shoe distributions and muster-rolls, &c. I quite envy those 
 regiments that are quiet and in position near Washington, 
 with every facility for order, discipline, drill, food, &c. ; but, 
 as Birdofredum Sawin says, < I m safe enlisted for the 
 warj and come what will, I will be content. Though last 
 evening, in the fog and dark and cold, I felt, as I lay down 
 with wet feet and wet clothes, a little like grumbling at the 
 stupidity of our Adjutant-General, who planned and exe 
 cuted our uncomfortable march, which hit me just as I 
 wanted a little rest. I was happy to wake up this morning 
 with only a little sensation of stiffness, which wore off in my 
 early ride of six miles. During my ride I snatched a break 
 fast at a farm-house, and enjoyed the sensation of health 
 and sunshine. Though I began this letter at noon, I am 
 finishing it by candle-light. It has been interrupted vari 
 ously ; at this moment the Colonel comes to my tent, and 
 says, 4 That is a beautiful sight, pointing to the camp-fires 
 and lights on the hills about us. The Webster regiment is 
 just opposite us, and their band is now playing. We are 
 within six miles of the Potomac. Everything here looks 
 every day more like business ; but we have not the presence 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 89 
 
 of McClellan, and one who has just come from that present 
 influence misses it as he would the quick pulse of health. 
 The coming man is not a mere phrase. There is no cant, 
 either, in the phrase. How we have waited for him ! And 
 has he come ? I hope. Discredit all rumor. That is my 
 
 advice 
 
 " I do not seem to myself to have given anything like 
 a picture of the active life of the past week, but Colonel 
 Andrews wants my help about rations, the Chaplain wants 
 my letter for the mail, I want time for various things, and 
 so good night." 
 
90 LIFE AND LETTERS OP WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 LETTERS FROM PLEASANT HILL CAMP, NEAR DARNESTOWN. 
 " CAMP NEAR DARNESTOWN, August 31, 1861. 
 
 " T-F y u have a good map, you can see our present posi 
 tion just on Seneca Creek, two miles from Darnestown. 
 We were ordered to Darnestown, but there is no water 
 nearer than this point. We are within striking distance of 
 Washington, and also vis-d-vis of Leesburg, about. 
 
 " I wish you to buy, and forward by express, a large 
 coffee-roaster, which will roast thirty or forty pounds at a 
 time. There is a kind, I am told. It would be of immense 
 advantage to us." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR DARNESTOWN, Monday, September 2, 1861, 
 Supply Train Camp. 
 
 " I have got a chance at pen and paper in the Commissa 
 ry s office, and improve the chance for a letter. I am here 
 in charge of two companies guarding our Division Supply 
 Train, but shall be relieved to-day. The duty is a tedious 
 one. The event of yesterday was the arrival of the coffee- 
 mills. Colonel Gordon reports that the men are in ecstasies 
 with them. I am only a witness by his report, for I was 
 ordered off on this duty just as the coffee-mills arrived. I 
 know how badly they were needed, and I hear how admi 
 rably they work. Since our arrival here at this new camp 
 we have undergone the invariable inconveniences attending 
 the moving of a division, and for the past two days my mind 
 and time have been absorbed with the problem of how to 
 overcome them. Night before last, having accumulated the 
 evidence from reports of captains, and from our own quar 
 termaster, about the want of tea, hard bread, salt pork, &c., 
 I went up to General Banks s head-quarters, and had a long 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 91 
 
 talk with him, urging the remedies which have occurred to 
 me. The General promises to change all this, and to accom 
 plish the regular and constant issue of the ration to the 
 soldier in the form and at the moment required by law. I 
 was so much struck with the difference between our condi 
 tion and that of the grand army about Washington, that I 
 have been the more exercised since my return. One conso 
 lation I have, that we are learning lessons and acquiring 
 habits which will have to be learned, perhaps, under less 
 favorable circumstances by others ; and I have hopes that 
 something may be done to make feeding easier. We have 
 had a grand reduction of baggage going on, in order to get 
 us into easier moving train. I am persuaded that the true 
 equipment for the soldier is the combination tent and knap 
 sack, which enables him to carry his shelter on his back, 
 and which dispenses with more than one half of the wagons 
 of a regiment. By that arrangement every four men would 
 carry their tent. It is put up in a moment, and they are 
 never separated from it. In the future, if the war lasts, I 
 hope to get our regiment equipped with it. The autumn 
 campaign, however, must be made in our present trim, and 
 we must prepare, as best we can, to make it. Where are 
 the enemy ? In our isolated position we hear nothing of 
 them. I confess that this quietness puzzles me. If they 
 only knew their opportunities, what fine fun they might have 
 had. 
 
 " My head-quarters in my present guard duty are on a 
 pine hill, under a bower built of pine-boughs. We had a 
 good camp-fire last night, and I enjoyed it very much. This 
 morning I visited all my pickets and outposts very early, 
 and had a fine ride through the woods. I am writing in 
 the midst of a Babel of mule-teams, and am surrounded by 
 huge piles of barrels of flour and hard bread, boxes of soap, 
 bags of oats and corn, and other stores. The wagons are 
 packed in two fields, and the work of distribution is going 
 on all the time. The portable forges are just back of the 
 
92 LIFE AND LETTERS OP WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 tent where I write, and a dozen busy blacksmiths are ring 
 ing their anvils. It is a lively scene. I do not know that 
 there is anything of narrative o*r prophecy that I can send 
 you entertaining. I hope father will send the coffee-roaster, 
 and have it as portable as the required result will allow. 
 It will complete my effort in that direction. I have been 
 some time without a letter, because our mail has not yet 
 found us out in our new position. I hope it will do so to 
 morrow. I must get on my horse and go about to visit my 
 guard. We sent our pay-rolls to Washington to-day, which 
 is prompt work. Our pay will come again next week. The 
 men of our regiment are now contented and efficient, illus 
 trating my statement, that the only trouble was the want 
 of pay. All those questions of enlistment, &c., have died 
 out. They never had any real hold on the men, but were 
 a form of grumbling. The change was abrupt and sud 
 den. The paymaster came like a sunbeam. Good by. 
 Love to all." 
 
 " PLEASANT HILL, CAMP NEAR DARNESTOWN, 
 September 4, 1861. 
 
 " A picture ! Life is but a series of them. Stand on a 
 hill just above the creek. Let Major-General Banks, with 
 all his wwwon, -wwtried, not to say uncomfor table or unfit, 
 glories, be by your side. It is evening ; you are at head 
 quarters. The General will say, in full, deep tones, ( A fine 
 sight, Madam. You will have anticipated his platitude ; 
 for you will find your eye filled with blazing camp-fires and 
 bright-lighted tents, on every hillside within the circle of 
 which you are a centre. Your ear will listen to the bands 
 playing in every camp. The distance softens and harmonizes 
 their discords. You have seen the camps at evening. 
 
 " A night s rest under the tent, with two blankets and a 
 bundle of straw extemporized into a bed, is a second picture. 
 Your dream is interrupted by a clang of kettle and bass 
 drums. It is the infernal reveille of the Indiana Twelfth. 
 Presently you hear a clear rattle and shrill fife, and recog- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 93 
 
 nize the reveille* of the drum-major of the Massachusetts 
 Second. Follow it with your ear. You will see how it is 
 measured. A little practice teaches the soldier at what 
 point to open his eyes, when to throw back his blanket, and, 
 at the moment, he is in ranks at the last ruffle of the drum. 
 Regiments are known by their reveille s, you may say. But 
 if you have obeyed the call, you will be looking upon the 
 camps in the first glimmering of sunrise. You will glance 
 at the old moon, in its second childhood almost as graceful 
 as its first. You will see the men swarming from their 
 tents into ranks. In half an hour the hills are alive with 
 moving columns, and you are watching the morning drill. 
 
 " It is afternoon. You have come to visit the camp of the 
 Massachusetts Second. The General had at once pointed it 
 out last evening. You then admired the regularity of its 
 form. You now admire the neatness and order that you find 
 within. 
 
 " You go out in front and look over at the opposite hill, 
 
 where the Regiment is in camp. The officer of the 
 
 day in our camp is administering a punishment. The 
 court-martial had sentenced a drunken and insubordinate 
 fellow to be tied to a tree for one hour three successive days. 
 
 There he is tied. The Regiment catch sight of him. 
 
 At once, in a disorderly mob, they rush to the edge of their 
 hill. They cry, Cut him down ! they groan and yell against 
 us. Our guard is called out. Their officers cannot restore 
 order, though they succeed in keeping their men within 
 their lines. The punishment is concluded. Not a man in 
 our lines stirs or speaks. You have contrasted the disci 
 pline of the two regiments. You have seen pictures enough, 
 because you want to hear more of this one. Colonel Gor 
 don, as Acting Brigadier, directs the arrest of the ring 
 leaders of the Regiment, and of their officer of the day. 
 
 The next morning, to wit, yesterday, the 3d September, 
 Colonel comes to ask that the man may be tied some 
 where w T here the regiment which he is commanded ly cannot 
 
94 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 see him. Colonel Gordon says, No. General Banks, on 
 being consulted by Colonel Gordon, directs him to go on. 
 Discipline must be maintained, says the General. Colonel 
 
 then goes to General Banks, and, by what persuasion 
 
 we know not, wheedles out of him a recommendation to 
 Colonel Gfordon that the punishment be inflicted with less 
 4 publicity. This recommendation comes just before the 
 time for the punishment. General Banks cannot be found 
 in season to give any explanation of his written recom 
 mendation. Colonel Gordon makes up his mind to tie the 
 man in the same place and in the same way, come what 
 may. It is done without trouble. But the recommenda 
 tion from head-quarters has shaken our confidence. This 
 illustrates the difficulties under which discipline is main 
 tained. We are the only regiment that attempts it, and 
 even the officers among our neighbors discountenance the 
 severity which alone insures our discipline. But our men 
 are getting, every day, a better tone. They pride them 
 selves on the obvious contrast between their regiment and 
 the others. They submit to the rules out of which this 
 contrast comes. But the fact that the other regiments do 
 as they please aggravates our difficulties and endangers our 
 success. We are beginning to long for the direct command 
 of McClellan, who would sustain our system without fear, 
 favor, or affection. A political education does not favor the 
 direct disregard of consequences which belongs to military 
 command. Yet I do not wish to complain of General Banks. 
 I think he means well, but I fear that he lacks a little either 
 of education or confidence to push things through. 
 
 " I have been working away at the deficiencies of our 
 commissariat. I do not hesitate to say that its condition is 
 disgraceful. No organization, and not even accidental and 
 disproportioned abundance, in any direction. A general 
 short commons. This we hope to remedy. But I do not 
 make much progress. In fact, General Banks s division is 
 not officered in the Quartermaster and Subsistence Depart- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 95 
 
 ments as it should be. But enough of this. We are get 
 ting on well, and I only grumble because we might do so 
 much better. To-day, again, the man shall be tied to the 
 tree. 
 
 " Yesterday morning we had a visit from General Reed, 
 Albert Brown, the Governor s Secretary, and Mr. Dalton, 
 the Massachusetts Agent. They seemed pleased with what 
 they saw. But they only made a flying visit. They 
 brought no news from home, but they brought the tale of 
 Butler s achievement. 4 That s the talk, say I. Give em 
 unexpected droppings in all along shore. Scatter them 
 with vague dread. Make em constantly ask, " What 11 
 come next ? " General Butler is in luck. He has n t got 
 a big lamp, but he brings it out after dark. In the night 
 that surrounded Washington in April, he appeared with his 
 farthing candle : men thought it a sun ! Now, again, 
 when the public longs for a glimmer of achievement, he 
 strikes a light, and men are dazzled by even so small a 
 blaze. Verily, opportunity has served him. But the move 
 is in the right direction, and I applaud vehemently. I am 
 just informed that the mail goes immediately, and must 
 close my letter. We hear of a large mail on its way from 
 Washington, and hope to get it to-morrow. It is nearly a 
 week since I had a letter ; but if men will go to Darnestown 
 they must take the consequences. Love to all." 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, CAMP NEAR DARNESTOWN, 
 September 6, 1861. 
 
 " DEAR HOWARD, Advice is cheap. When lost it goes 
 to the moon, according to the old superstition, and does no 
 harm. Hear mine. General Fremont is on his way to 
 Memphis. As sure as sunrise he will go there. Go with 
 him. Now is the opportunity for adventure, for success. 
 Energy and aptitude are in demand. This autumn they will 
 bear fruit. The wheel is entitled to every man s shoulder ; 
 offer yours. In other words, pack your trunk, take a few 
 
96 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 letters of introduction and authentication from the Gover 
 nor and others, go to Fremont, tell him you wish to serve 
 
 in his army You will do yourself credit, and be in 
 
 the midst of some of the most brilliant achievements of the 
 war. I have said my say, after reflection, and from a near 
 view of the field. 
 
 " Yours affectionately, 
 
 " WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 "To LIEUTENANT HOWARD DWIGHT." 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, CAMP NEAR DARNESTOWN, 
 
 Saturday, September 7, 1861. 
 
 " DEAR MOTHER, Twice within three days we have been 
 abruptly summoned to get into marching array. Twice 
 has the order been countermanded. This morning at three 
 o clock I was waked to open my eyes upon the misty star 
 light by an orderly from head-quarters. 
 
 " He brought the order : The enemy have broken up 
 their camp at Manassas, and are moving. Get everything 
 in readiness to start. If a signal-light is exhibited at head 
 quarters, let the long roll be beaten and the regiment get 
 under arms at once. Colonel Gordon is in Washington. 
 Colonel Andrews gave quietly the necessary orders, and 
 then both he and I composed ourselves to sleep. We have 
 learnt that excitement is useless and unprofitable. Besides, 
 composure is so graceful, and withal comfortable, at that 
 hour. But, seriously, these successive alarms have become 
 the habit of our lives. One of these days perchance the wolf 
 will come. But this morning there are no new orders, and 
 no immediate prospect of a start. Movement must come, 
 however, shortly, and I confess I am impatient for its com 
 ing. Just now, perhaps, I can be content to wait. My 
 horse did me the ill turn to fall with me the other day. I 
 was urging him hastily down hill, and he stumbled and went 
 down. He chafed my leg a little, and so I am lying still 
 to-day to get well. To-morrow both he and I will be firmly 
 on our legs again, and it may well happen that we shall both 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 97 
 
 need them. I was sorry to hear of your cold. It is such 
 a bad companion for August. You should come and live 
 in a tent, and then you would cease to have any of the ills 
 that follow close rooms, warm beds, coal fires, and the other 
 
 accidents of civilized life in times of peace It is a 
 
 sultry morning, and the air moves listlessly through my 
 tent. I am reclining orientally, and the Doctor has just 
 been making an application to my bruise. He has also been 
 chatting pleasantly for half an hour, and so has broken what 
 little thread belonged to my story. It is well that it is so, 
 for the life of the past few days does not need a chronicler. 
 We all expect something coming, but do not know what or 
 when. I confess I enjoy a few days for the study of tactics 
 and attention to military matters. The theory slips out of 
 sight in the tread-mill of daily duty. 
 
 I glanced at an article in the Atlantic Monthly this morn 
 ing on The Advantages of Defeat. I cannot agree to its 
 positions. American soldiers, let the fact be plainly 
 stated, American soldiers will only become efficient in 
 proportion as they abandon their national theories and 
 give themselves up obediently to the military laws which 
 have always governed the successful prosecution of war. 
 The incurable habit of insubordination of the citizen, 
 as the Saturday Review has it, in a capital article, cannot 
 be transferred to the soldier. To-day our army is crip 
 pled by the ideas of equality and independence which have 
 colored the whole life of our people. Men elect their offi 
 cers, and then expect them to behave themselves ! Obe 
 dience is permissive, not compelled, and the radical basis 
 is wrong. We have to struggle against the evil tenden 
 cies of this contagion. When this defect is cured, and men 
 recognize authority and obey without knowing why, obey 
 from habit and instinct, not from any process of reasoning 
 or presumed consent, we shall begin to get an army. It 
 is only necessary to appreciate the fact that, in war, one will 
 must act through all the others, to see that American sol- 
 
 7 
 
98 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 diers, with all their presumed intelligence and skill, have 
 the one lesson yet to learn. So for my preachment. Here 
 appears Colonel Gordon, returned suddenly from Washing 
 ton. The enemy are moving somewhither, and of course 
 
 he rejoins his regiment The obvious weaknesses of 
 
 delay may drive the Rebels to -offensive action. If so, Heaven 
 send them across the river between us and Washington, so 
 that we may have a part in the great battle that crushes 
 them. And yet I cannot believe that any such chance will 
 come to us. Speculation, however, is worthless, on a mat 
 ter which will have decided itself long before the speculation 
 can reach you." 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, September 10, 1861, 
 Camp near Darnestown. 
 
 " I have had a day or two of horizontal contemplation, 
 enforced by my leg, but now I am well again, and about 
 resuming active operations in the field. You cannot 
 expect that I should give you any stirring news, and had I 
 been on my legs it would only have been for purposes of 
 drill and discipline. After three days of scare, we subside. 
 We keep two days rations cooked, ready for a march, and 
 there comes to us every day fresh evidence that the enemy 
 are active. Their plan, of course, we do not know, and I 
 have wasted so many good hours in trying to guess that I 
 now give it up. I have had, for three or four days, a chance 
 to read and study quietly, a thing which has not before 
 occurred to me since I began this enterprise, in April last. 
 I have enjoyed and improved it, and mean to get time al 
 ways for some of it. Yet it is not easy, in the midst of all 
 the active, practical duties of a life, to secure chances for 
 study and thought, and I have been glad of this 
 
 " Colonel Andrews, who is in command, is full of life and 
 energy. The want of progress and growtli in everything 
 military is a sore trial to him. He works hard for the regi 
 ment, and wishes every stroke to tell. I think we do grow 
 better, but when you understand fully what a regiment 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 99 
 
 ought to be, and ought to be capable of doing, you see that 
 we are a long way off from our goal. Peas upon the 
 trencher, breakfast-call, has just beaten, and here comes 
 Colonel Andrews to go to breakfast." 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, September 12, 1861, 
 Thursday Morning. 
 
 " Yes ! There they go again ! Home, sweet home ! And 
 then the maddening suggestion of pleasures and palaces ! 
 If our band were malicious and impish, could they insist 
 upon a more discontenting theme ? Yet, as sure as there 
 comes a chill, cloudy, morose morning, the band come out 
 to guard-mounting, and fill the air with sighings after home, 
 <fcc. Now they change ; it is Hail Columbia, happy land ! 
 Is there not a bitterness of satire in that, even, which alloys 
 the patriotic associations of the melody ? Columbia seems 
 anything but a happy land just now, in the midst of rebellion 
 and treason. But the music kindles one, after all. It is 
 the morning that is out of tune, or myself, perhaps. A raw 
 and bitter night, rainy and chill. The tents blowing down, 
 the rain blowing in, dripping visitors in india-rubber gar 
 ments sitting down on your bed, a spluttering candle flicker 
 ing out, and leaving you hopelessly in the dark, a new pool 
 surprising your slipper, a sudden freshet carrying away your 
 dressing-case, the quick, sharp rattle and tattoo of the rain 
 drops, and the tent fluttering with every gusty squall, sleep 
 precarious and uncertain. At last reveille , and a hoarse, 
 damp i Good morning from the Doctor, who speculates 
 grimly, in the next tent, upon the folly of getting up. Yet 
 we do get up, and after breakfast I sit down to write to the 
 tune of home. Sich, as the Doctor is fond of saying, Ms 
 life ; and, more particularly, camp life. I happen to have a 
 delicious bit of romance for you to-day ; and as the sun is 
 getting warmer, and the rain is drying up, I may get cheer 
 ful by telling it. The Chaplain appeared yesterday with the 
 confidential narrative that he had been performing an un- 
 
100 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 common ceremony. In a word, he had married a couple ! 
 Who was the bridegroom ? asks Colonel Andrews, who 
 
 is still in command. Sergeant . It then appeared that 
 
 the bride came out from Massachusetts to be married, and 
 it had all been fixed, as they phrase it, in a house near the 
 camp that morning, a few hours after her arrival. The 
 Sergeant was to remain true to his duty, and the new wife 
 was to return by the next day s stage. But the romance 
 goes farther. The true love had met other ripples in its 
 flow. Malice traduced the Sergeant last spring to his 
 enslaver. She gave him up, and he went, and in despair 
 enlisted for a soldier. The truth came at last to the maid 
 en s mind, and her meditations were no longer fancy free. 
 She loved her lost Sergeant more than ever, and so out she 
 came, and said so plump and fairly, once for all, to the 
 parson, and they were a happy pair again. The Colonel 
 expressed some doubt to the Chaplain, whether it was pre 
 cisely according to military discipline to get married in 
 camp, but did not take a rigid view of it. Soon after, the 
 Sergeant appeared at the Colonel s tent. I should like a 
 leave of absence for three hours, sir. What for, Ser 
 geant ? To see a friend, sir. Can t your friend come 
 here ? l No, sir, not very well. i Do you want to be 
 away as long as that ? (severely). 4 Yes, sir, I should like 
 two or three hours (timidly). Sergeant, said the Colonel, 
 with a twinkle a benevolent twinkle in his eye, I think 
 I know who your friend is. Would n t you like to be gone 
 till to-morrow morning ? Yes, sir, I should, sir. Well, 
 you ve been a faithful man, and you may. Sich, again, is 
 life, but not often camp life. 
 
 " I am busy on court-martial, having been appointed 
 President of the General Court-Martial of this division, 
 that is, having been designated as senior officer. We sit in 
 the morning, and I am amused to see how kindly I take to 
 the forms of law again. I am getting quite well again of 
 my bruise, but it is good easy work for a lame man. We 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 101 
 
 do not know when we may move, but I am getting to think 
 that orders must come pretty soon now. 
 
 " We had a visit from General Banks yesterday before the 
 rain began. The General visited our kitchens, and tasted, 
 with apparent approval, my doughnuts. I say mine, be 
 cause I regard as, perhaps, the most successful endeavor of 
 my military life, the general introduction of doughnuts into 
 the regiment. It you could have seen the helplessness in 
 which the flour ration left us, and the stupidity of the men 
 in its use, you would hail; as the dawn, the busy frying of 
 doughnuts which goes on here now. Two barrels is a small 
 allowance for a company. They are good to carry in the 
 haversack, and i stick by a feller on the march. And 
 when the men have not time to build an oven, as often 
 they have not, the idea is invaluable. Pots of beans baked 
 in holes in the ground, with a pan of brown bread on top, is 
 also a recent achievement, worthy of Sunday morning at an 
 old Exeter boarding-house. The band produced that agree 
 able concord yesterday, and contributed from their success 
 to my breakfast. Our triumphs, just now, are chiefly cu 
 linary ; but an achievement of that kind is not to be de 
 spised. A soldier s courage lies in his stomach, said 
 Frederick the Great. And I mean that the commissary of 
 our division and the commissary of our regiment, and the 
 captains and the cooks, shall accept the doctrine and apply 
 its lessons, if I can make them 
 
 " By the way, do you know that I have grown the most 
 alarming beard of modern times ? I am inclined to think 
 it must be so. It has the true glare of Mars, and is, I flat 
 ter myself, warlike, though not becoming. I have forborne 
 allusion to it in the tenderness of its youth and the uncer 
 tainty of its hue, but now that it has taken on full pro 
 portions and color, I announce it to you as a decided 
 feature. 
 
 " Dr. may be a good reasoner, but he can t reason 
 
 the Secession army into winter-quarters in Philadelphia. 
 
102 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 There is no real cause for depression. Subduing rebellion, 
 conquering traitors, in short, war, is the work of soldiers. 
 Soldiers are a product of time, and so it comes that our 
 mad impatience of delay is chastised by disaster. In the 
 fulness of time, we shall wipe out this Southern army, as 
 surely as the time passes. But we have got to work for it 
 instead of talking about it. That is all. Between the be 
 ginning of this letter and the end is a course of the sun. 
 It has been scratched at intervals, and now I look out of 
 my tent on a glorious sunset, and the music is just begin 
 ning for parade." 
 
 " PLEASANT HILL, CAMP NEAR DARNESTOWN, 
 September 15, 1861, Sunday. 
 
 " At regular intervals I am prompted to my pen, rather 
 by the desire to think of you at home, than by the con 
 sciousness of any story to tell. It is called a hot day to 
 day. I found Colonel and Lieutenant-Colonel 
 
 at Poolesville this morning in a state of intense glow, and 
 crying out at the heat. I find it comfortable,* and consider 
 anything short of boiling water my natural element. The 
 force of habit is so strong that my summer on the Potomac 
 has fitted me for tropical life 
 
 " Colonel told us that he had been down the river 
 
 this morning, and taken a look at the enemy s picket on the 
 other side. And a short conversation took place between 
 our picket and theirs as to the relative forces and skill, &c. 
 This disgusted Colonel Andrews, who tersely expressed the 
 opinion, c When you see an enemy, shoot him The shoot 
 ing of pickets seems to have been voted by respectable 
 authorities to be barbarous. Why, I cannot see. It 
 amounts to this : If you don t shoot, they can post their 
 men securely where they please, and thus attain, without 
 risk, the advantages of outlook and guard which they de 
 sire. If you do shoot, they can t choose their position, nor 
 readily secure their advantages. This seems to me conclu 
 sive. But humanity is a very vague term when applied to 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 103 
 
 war. And we handle these questions very differently from 
 
 the way in which we shall if the war lasts We are 
 
 looking for a visit and review from McClellan. That will 
 be an incident, and well worth while. The fact is, General 
 Banks has been gradually stripped of his column. General 
 Stone, a regular officer, has been given a separate division 
 at Poolesville, and many of the best officers have been with 
 drawn from us. General Banks is left without a staff. Has 
 
 lost much of his artillery and cavalry If it were not 
 
 that I believe that whatever is is right, and that docile sub 
 mission is the best wisdom, I should regret belonging to this 
 division, as it seems just outside of the work. But I am 
 perfectly content with things as they are. When the time 
 comes I hope it will find us ready. 
 
 " McClellan does n t believe in fresh-sprouted major-gen 
 erals. That s clear. 
 
 " I guess we shall see him in a day or two, and then 
 perhaps he will open the path to glory to us. He keeps the 
 gates 
 
 " Coffee-roaster has arrived, and is merrily at work. This 
 is a comfort. Tell father he is the regiment s friend, and I 
 bless him. Colonel Andrews says that I love the Second 
 Regiment first, and my country next. Perhaps it is true. 
 At all events, I care only for its success at present. The 
 call is beating for parade, and the sun is setting. Good by." 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, September 16, 1861. 
 
 " I got a letter from you this morning dated Saturday, 
 and full of regret that I don t get your letters. Why, I do. 
 Only they come irregularly. Since the gap caused by your 
 cold, I have had my regular journal to cheer and alleviate 
 my life. So don t be discouraged, and above all, don t think 
 that you are writing to the Dead Letter Office. You need 
 
 not say so to , but it would overtax my magnanimity 
 
 to write to any one in England our news. Their fog must 
 envelop them. i Can t understand affairs in this country/ 
 
104 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 is it ? They don t try. % It is a plain case enough. The 
 South has been organizing a villanous conspiracy for two 
 years. It is suddenly born, full-armed, as Minerva. We 
 are just organizing our crushing power to put it down. Let 
 England wait patiently, and we will show them that we are 
 a nation, after all. Till then it is idle to attempt to per 
 suade their darkness into light. 
 
 " Our court-martial goes on bravely. We hope to get 
 through to-morrow, or next day. But the cases accumulate 
 so rapidly in proportion to our speed of trial, that we do not 
 get the docket clear yet. I was prevented, yesterday, from 
 going on a secret and confidential duty by the fact of the 
 court-martial. If the telegram gives an account of any 
 arrests in the vicinage of Frederick, you may know that 
 nothing but the fact of my being actually engaged in an 
 other service prevented my taking charge of a part of that 
 enterprise. I cannot properly speak more plainly of the 
 matter, but events will probably illustrate my meaning, and 
 you will see that we mean to have Maryland under our 
 thumb completely. 1 confess that I should have enjoyed 
 the duty that I was likely to engage in ; but a soldier has no 
 choice. Every vigorous move of the Federal authority does 
 good. We are in the midst of traitors, and indeed there 
 is no loyalty except conditional loyalty in the Slave States. 
 The Baltimore arrests are a capital move. Our life is 
 excited by rumors of a movement by the enemy. I suppose 
 the fact is thus. If the Rebels attack, they will cross be 
 tween us and Harper s Ferry. Any movement by them 
 will threaten our division, which I hope they mean to 
 strengthen. The circumstance of McClellan s turning his 
 attention to us indicates this as his opinion. I am slow to 
 believe that they will cross anywhere. If they do, we shall 
 have to be the first to oppose them. 
 
 " A direct attack on Washington cannot offer them any 
 attraction. I can imagine how strong the pressure is upon 
 them to make a move, and yet I think they have not the 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 105 
 
 power to make it, with any chance of success. We shall 
 see. The sun has come out glaringly, and now we have 
 a threatening thunder-storm coming. 
 
 " The coffee-roaster is lovely, and wins golden opinions. 
 At last, also, we have tea, and, indeed, we have waked up 
 our commissary to something like activity. . . ; . 
 
 " I am glad Charley is going to the war. It will make a 
 man of him. Love to all." 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, September 19, 1861. 
 
 " There is no reason why I should write you a letter, ex 
 cept that Captain Abbott is going to Washington and can 
 carry it. With such a motive, let me say, then, that all goes 
 well with us. That the weather is certainly the most trying 
 in the world, hot, bright, damp-aired, blazing days. Cold, 
 heavy, foggy, shivering nights. If we don t have chills and 
 fever it will be because we take good care of ourselves, 
 which we try to do. The regiment is all right, and im 
 proves. My court-martial drags along a lazy and feeble 
 existence. It does severe military justice upon offenders, 
 and one duty is as well as another, though now that I am 
 on my legs again, I -should like to resume regular regimental 
 life once more. 
 
 " Our officers, and indeed the regiment itself, are very im 
 patient of the quietness of this life ; but there is no other 
 way. You would like to see the ovens that the men have 
 built of mud and straw and stones, with the fires blazing 
 from their wide mouths. You would like to see the rich 
 brown coffee come out of my roaster. In short, you would 
 like to see plenty reign as it now does, since the men have 
 got nothing to think of but how to feed themselves. But 
 if you thought again, how little we are doing to teach men 
 to take care of themselves on the march and in active 
 duty, you would see that we are still lame, and probably 
 shall be for many months, until experience has rubbed its 
 lessons into the memory and habits of both officers and men. 
 
106 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 " I do not know why I write this, except that such prob 
 lems and results are constantly occupying my mind. 
 
 " You see the exploit at Frederick did not amount to 
 much. The government alarmed the Legislature by mak 
 ing arrests in Baltimore, and by sending up policemen, so 
 that what promised to be quite a Cromwellian stroke was 
 only the seizure of a few straggling legislators, who were 
 frightened before they were hurt. Secessionism, however, is 
 dead in Maryland. 
 
 " has returned, disappointed that he did not bag 
 
 more game. I, who was going with him, as I mentioned in 
 my last letter, on this secret expedition to Frederick, am 
 consoled since the result was no larger." 
 
 " September 26. 
 
 " Cold weather seems to have set in upon us. I hope our 
 Rebel brothers the other side of the Potomac are suffering 
 the same cold nights that we have. Such weather will do 
 more to drive them from Manassas than much artillery. 
 
 " There is a lull now. for a tempest ! I am glad 
 Howard seems likely to accomplish his best object. Had he 
 not better use a day in a visit to me on his way West ? " 
 
 " PLEASANT HILL, CAMP NEAR DARNESTOWN, 
 
 September 27, 1861. 
 
 " A dark, dull, rainy day without, a calm, quiet, cosey 
 tent within. At peace with ourselves, and apparently with 
 all mankind. Such is this Friday morning. 
 
 " Yesterday * was a grand day for our army. The orders 
 were issued for its observance by a grand division parade 
 and service, and at eleven o clock the brigades moved to 
 Darnestown, and formed in a large field for the service. Our 
 friend Mr. Quint gave the address on the occasion. I did 
 not go myself, being detained by the combined influence of 
 a headache and a court-martial. The headache and court- 
 
 * The President s Fast Day. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 107 
 
 martial have both adjourned to-day, and I think they will 
 not be called together again. 
 
 " It is said that the division looked very well indeed, and 
 that the Massachusetts Second appeared bright beside the 
 other regiments. This is probably exactly true. We have 
 never been drawn up to face anything else except the Rev 
 erend Chaplain, but it is said that the column stood his fire 
 like heroes ! 
 
 " The impression seems to be gathering force that our 
 term of inaction is drawing to a close. I only hope that 
 when we go across the Potomac, it will be by a grand con 
 certed movement, which will sweep everything before it 
 clean. Nulla vestigia retrorsum. Not a single about face 
 in the whole movement. I think we have reason to be glad 
 that our regiment is getting through the chills-and-fever 
 season so well. The place where we are seems quite healthy, 
 and we suffer much less than our neighbors. By a new 
 division of brigades, Colonel Gordon becomes the Senior 
 Colonel of the Third Brigade, which makes him the Acting 
 Brigadier. This puts Colonel Andrews in command of the 
 regiment. 
 
 " I hope soon to hear of Howard s movements, and also 
 of Charley s coming on to join William." 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, Sunday Evening, September 29, 1861, 
 Camp near Darnestown. 
 
 " An opportunity presents itself, this morning, to send a 
 letter, and so I write, though I have only to tell you of con 
 tinued quiet and content. 
 
 " And, indeed, it is no easy matter to preserve that happy 
 mental and moral poise in the midst of our present dulness. 
 I think, however, that the regiment was never in a state of 
 more admirable efficiency than it is to-day, and this cheers 
 and satisfies me when I keep it in mind. It is idle, how 
 ever, to disguise the fact that it is a heaviness to the natu 
 ral and unregenerate heart to see no prospect of achievement, 
 no opportunity of action. 
 
108 LIFE AND LETTERS OP WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 " I do not hesitate to say, that the winter must not set in 
 without deeds that give a lustre to our flag. Volunteering, 
 is it, that is wanted ? Show the volunteer that he enters on 
 the path of victory, and the crowd will be immense. 
 
 " We heard last night that the report was current that 
 our division had cut the enemy to pieces, or was itself cut 
 to pieces, or something of that sort. If so, and the report 
 ran home by telegraph, you have had a very needless alarm. 
 Never was repose so undisturbed as ours. If you hear such 
 news of us, reflect only, 4 It is too good to be true. 
 
 " Your letter of the 23d is just received. I do hope 
 Howard will find success in the Department of the West. 
 There is certainly room for him there, and he has capacity 
 for the place. I have just come in from Sunday-morning 
 inspection. We need for the regiment flannel drawers and 
 flannel shirts. Can you not get up a good package of them, 
 and send them on by Captain Abbott ? I see you ; peak of 
 shirts for the soldiers." 
 
LIFE AM) LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 109 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 LETTERS FROM WASHINGTON AND PLEASANT HILL CAMP, NEAR 
 DARNESTOWN. 
 
 "WASHINGTON, WILLARD S HOTEL, October 2, 1861. 
 
 " fTHHE date will explain the episode in my history, which 
 
 has relieved the monotony for a day or two. I rode 
 
 down here to accomplish some business for the regiment, 
 
 and go back to-morrow morning William and I rode 
 
 over to the forts this morning. They seem strong and un 
 inviting. The enemy, however, will never attempt them. 
 The big battle is not to be fought behind the breastworks 
 of either party. In my judgment, the next severe blow our 
 cause gets will be in Kentucky, whither the theatre of war 
 is moving." 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, October 4, 1861, 
 Camp near Darnestown. 
 
 " I am sitting up to-night, as field-officer of the day, 
 awaiting the hour of twelve, when I make my grand rounds. 
 You may, perhaps, take a half-hour of my tediousness. I 
 wrote a note from Washington. I found William had 
 chosen me a horse, which, though peculiar to look at, was 
 clever to go. In the cheerful phrase of the woman of Kan- 
 nesch, II ne salt pas Strejoli mais il est ban. 9 William told 
 me he had written for Charley to come on to his regiment. 
 I hope Charley has already started. He will learn more in 
 a week in camp than in a month at home. Give him my 
 love, and advice to push on for camp with a few good warm 
 clothes and a copy of Tactics. 
 
 " Noboby seems even to guess at McClellan s plans. It is 
 against my principle to believe in anything except human 
 fallibility. Taking it for granted that McClellan belongs to 
 
110 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 the human family, and that he has got an awful work before 
 him, and not seeing evidence of his doing anything in par 
 ticular, I must say, my impatience gets the better of my hope 
 now and then. For instance, when I see Meigs advertising 
 for gifts of blankets ! Why, are the whole government 
 asleep ? If not, why have they not prepared for a winter 
 campaign ? The roll of the seasons is a phenomenon of 
 peace. That, surely, has not taken them by surprise. 
 
 " Again, the redundancy of brigadiers disgusts me. 
 What room have they left for distinction to those who win 
 glory in the fight. These antecedent laurels cheapen the 
 very warmest incentive to a soldier s sacrifices. 
 
 But enough of croaking. Though, before I leave it en 
 tirely, is not Fremont s fizzle in Missouri enough to make a 
 saint s amiability feather, at least, if not absolutely sour ? 
 When is the luck to turn ? I am writing in the stillness of 
 an almost summer evening, and have got my head full, as 
 you see, of thoughts that are fruitless. 
 
 " I rode back to camp yesterday, and found no end of 
 work awaiting me. Among other things, I am detailed on 
 a board of survey to estimate the damage done to private 
 property in our army s progress from Harper s Ferry to this 
 place. As I am one of those who do not believe in paying 
 anything, I am, I suppose, a good officer for the post. The 
 burdens of war ought, for the most part, to rest where they 
 fall. At any rate, these lukewarm, disloyal citizens deserve 
 nothing but the strictest justice. 
 
 " Colonel Gordon is now in command of a brigade, and 
 he is acting the reformer and reviver with great spirit and 
 effect. Indeed, it is cheerful to see the progress our regi 
 ments are making in discipline and drill. The Second 
 Massachusetts is the example and standard for the others. 
 General Banks, standing on the hill near his head-quarters, 
 said to a gentleman in my hearing yesterday, That, point 
 ing to our camp, c is the best and neatest camp on the con 
 tinent. Words, I believe, of truth and soberness. My 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. Ill 
 
 visit to Washington tended to satisfy me with our regiment. 
 Good night. I must go out upon a tour of sentinel inspec 
 tion, which will last till three o clock in the morning. A 
 soldier s life is always gay." 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, October 7, 1861, 
 Camp near Darnestown. 
 
 " Turn out the Guard, Officer of the Day ! Such has 
 been the salutation with which again I am greeted this 
 Monday, on my rounds through the brigade. Our field- 
 officers are off on leave of absence, and every third day 
 brings this duty with it. Colonel Andrews has gone off to 
 Washington to see about his appointment. We all hope 
 most strongly that he will not accept it. Indeed, the fear 
 that it was coming has quite depressed me of late. The 
 Colonel is so decidedly the backbone of our enterprise, that 
 I cannot bear to think of losing him. Though I suppose 
 there are some who would have the charity to suppose that 
 I would welcome promotion. But I think that no one ever 
 received an appointment with less of gratified ambition, or 
 will take a promotion, if come it must, with less exultation. 
 The fact is, I foresaw trial and responsibility, and did not 
 crave it. I also deprecated unwon laurels and insignificant 
 titles. Something to work up to is not just the thing. 
 Though, after all, if one could succeed in really growing to 
 the position, he might well be proud. 
 
 " It is eleven o clock, a damp, rainy, cheerless night. I 
 shall soon go forth on my rounds. The season and sur 
 roundings are favorable to maudlin reflections, and I fear 
 I am falling into them. The next letter I write I will write 
 in glad sunshine and broad day ; not in the flickering twi 
 light of a wind-troubled candle ; but to-night you must take 
 me after sundown. Still, I have cheerful topics. The enemy 
 must soon move or we must, and so the briskness of enter 
 prise is near. Bull Run has given McClellan the liberty to 
 wait as long as he pleases without interference, but he can 
 not mean to lose October. As for Fremont, I wish him 
 
112 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 well for Howard s sake ; but the man lacks the one thing 
 we want now, success. Good reasons for failure are not 
 popular, though they may be undeniable 
 
 As to stockings for the regiment, we are not barefoot, but 
 stockings do wear out easily, and a regiment uses a great 
 many, and the government supplies slowly. Do not, how 
 ever, give yourself up to shirts or stockings. 
 
 " Here it comes, raw and gusty, and pouring torrents. 
 Well, let it rain. I think I must give up my grand rounds 
 though, and, as it is damp and cold, I will bid you a cheer 
 ful good night, and hope for a bright morning. 
 
 " It is not so bright a morning after all, but I must be off 
 to Hyattstown, to act on a bpard of survey; and so good 
 by." 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, MARYLAND, October 9, 1861. 
 
 " MY DEAR FATHER, Your prompt and energetic kind 
 ness is truly splendid. I think one thousand pairs of stock 
 ings are enough for the present. What we may need, or 
 the government may be able to supply before spring, we 
 cannot now say. Mrs. George Ticknor writes to Colonel 
 Gordon that a number of ladies in Boston desire to form 
 an association to supply the Second Regiment with whatever 
 they need. She will aid you in the stocking direction. The 
 truth is, the government ought to supply every real want 
 of the soldier. I hope it will soon do so. If it fail to do 
 so, we must appeal to benevolence now and then. The 
 principle is a bad one, however, and I do not wish to extend 
 it an inch beyond the immediate necessity. 
 
 " One bad effect of appealing to benevolence is, that men 
 will not be as careful of things given to them as things paid 
 for by them. 
 
 " Some frost-nipping compulsion is important to keep 
 them economical and careful. 
 
 " I am quite anxious to hear about Howard. I do not so 
 much care whether Fremont is a good or bad general ; if 
 Howard gets a footing there he will do well, and will hang 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OP WILDER DWIGHT. 113 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, CAMP NEAR DABNESTOWN, 
 October 9, 1861. 
 
 " DEAR MOTHER, I wish I could give you a vivid picture 
 of our excursion the other day on the board of survey. Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel Batchelder, of the Thirteenth Massachusetts, 
 and myself went off to Hyattstown to estimate damages done 
 by the army there. The Quartermaster Department gave us 
 a light wagon. We put off our care as we crossed the lines, 
 and left the sentinels behind. We drove to Hyattstown 
 through a pleasant country. The heavy rain had swelled 
 the runs or brooks which cross the road, and in our passage 
 over the last one we broke down. So we left our wagon 
 and took another. On our way back we met the regi 
 ment, Colonel . The Colonel is a lawyer and member 
 
 of Congress, not a soldier. We saw the beauties of moral- 
 suasive discipline. His men on the march during the storm 
 of the night previous had broken their lines. The roadside 
 taverns had sold them whiskey. The whole regiment was 
 drunk. A perfect Pandemonium was the scene they pre 
 sented. We did what we could to help him, but when one 
 soldier, in quarrelsome or pleasant vein, shot another through 
 the body, and a third broke the head of a fourth with the 
 butt of his musket, we thought discretion the better part of 
 valor, and did not wait to see what the fifth would do. Gen 
 eral Banks has ordered the regiment back, I believe, and 
 is going to send off another with more discipline and less 
 whiskey. The regiment had been detailed to go to Wil- 
 liamsport on special duty. 
 
 c; We drove on, and coming near the plantation of Mr. 
 .Desellum, whom you recollect I have spoken of, we stopped 
 to dinner. His sister, she who sent me the big bouquet, 
 was at home. She welcomed us cordially, and we were 
 surrounded speedily by a dozen little darkies all of a size. 
 The maiden lady showed us her flower-garden, and \\Grfamity 
 of negroes, and her spinning-room, in which three spinning- 
 wheels were busily twisting the yarn which she was to weave 
 
114 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 into clothes for her negroes. She showed us also her old 
 family linen, woven by her mother ; and, in fact, introduced 
 us to all the details of farm life. Then she took us into the 
 best room, whose oak floor shone with scrubbing, and whose 
 bright wood-fire felt good. There we had a dinner, and she 
 talked patriotism ; the Colonel and myself listening, and 
 concluding, as we drove away, that we had had an adven 
 ture, and found material loyalty in Maryland. 
 
 " A drive through the wood, across a swollen stream 
 whose bridge had gone, and whose depth made the crossing 
 an experiment of very doubtful success, brought us to camp 
 just as the new moon and evening star had come brightly 
 out of the glow of twilight. There we found Colonel 
 Andrews returned from Washington, having declined the 
 appointment of Adjutant-General, to the great joy of all 
 the regiment. 
 
 " We are rigging up very clever fireplaces in our tents, 
 and preparing for winter; learning how to be comfortable, 
 which is, after all, the great problem with which my mind 
 engages itself in this military campaigning. It is half the 
 battle. I hope we shall have the other half soon." 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, MARYLAND, October 11, 1861. 
 
 " DEAR FATHER, I receive, this evening, your pleasant 
 
 letter of Tuesday. Also a very kind one from D . Your 
 
 compliment from the general commanding is certainly pleas 
 ing. But do not suppose that it indicates any success of 
 mine. Remember that the path is a new one, and be con 
 tent that I shall learn its windings by and by. 
 
 Again, D s letter indicates the idea that I am likely to 
 
 be in command here. You will have learned that Colonels 
 Gordon and Andrews are both still with the regiment. This 
 is as it should be, and as I most strongly desire : and I 
 confidently trust it is as it will be for time to come (I have 
 no wish to emulate the inexperience of colonels whom ] 
 see about me). And the team as it now is is not too strong 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 115 
 
 for the load. I cannot help feeling proud of the regiment. 
 It never appeared so well as now. But I have no personal 
 ambition about it, only an intense longing for its success as 
 a whole. I tell you, good regiments are great creations, and 
 I wish we had three hundred of them, as we might have had 
 if everybody had put in briskly at once, as some of us did ; 
 but I am overworking my text, as I am apt to do when I 
 get on the regiment. 
 
 " You have succeeded in the stockings, I see. Well! they 
 will be a great thing for us, only you must let my patriotism 
 feel vexed that private aid should be necessary at this point 
 of time. . . . 
 
 " We are building an elaborate stable, thatched with straw, 
 for our horses, and the officers are fitting up tents with cel 
 lars and fireplaces, as if we were established for the winter. 
 I think, however, that we shall hardly get 4 to rights? as 
 
 they say, when the order to move will come. Dr. , 
 
 General McClellan s Medical Director, said to me last week, 
 * I can t tell where you re to be. What General McClellan 
 knows, no one else knows. It speaks well for the tonic effect 
 of Bull Run, that the press and people lie down quietly 
 under the thumb of McClellan, and bide his time." 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, MARYLAND, October 13, 1861. 
 
 " DEAR MOTHER, Opie mixed his colors < with brains, 
 sir, and with brains we have just done a clever thing near 
 Hatteras. Let us keep the brains at work. As for our own 
 thoughts, they were excited this morning by an order for 
 1 two days cooked rations in the haversack, and to hold 
 ourselves in readiness to march. So we hold ourselves 
 serenely and with content, but I do not fear any immediate 
 action. At last, however, with all this cry, the wolf must 
 come. 
 
 " The paymaster has been here, and went off yesterday, 
 leaving Uncle Sam s paper money behind, instead of gold as 
 before. 
 
116 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 " It is a bright and gusty day, and our hillside exposure 
 gives us the full front to the wind. I sit in my tent, this 
 Sunday morning, and keep warm over a pan of coals. 
 
 " I was amused, the other day, at an incident of my drive 
 with Colonel Batchelder. We came across a bright-eyed 
 little boy on the road, his pockets bursting with chestnuts, 
 and stopped and took him in, levying on his chestnuts. I 
 asked him if he was for the Union. < Yes, said he, with a 
 bright twinkle, < that I am. Why ? said I. 0, said he, 
 that old flag has stood too long to be pulled down now. I 
 thought that, for a Maryland boy s reason, was a pretty good 
 
 one I am quite anxious to get my buffalo-robe, 
 
 which Spiegel was obliged to leave in Washington, as the 
 coach would not bring it. The weather is growing colder 
 every day, as it seems. But then we have the cheerful 
 confidence that we are serving our country, you know, 
 which takes the chill off:" 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, October 14, 1861. 
 
 " I was looking, last evening, at the bright gold of the 
 western sky, and the frosty silver of the evening star, and 
 was marking the cold glitter of the moonlight, when Mr. 
 Spiegel appeared with my buffalo-robe in great glee. It 
 was an opportune visitor, and I must not let our quarter 
 master go to Washington without a line of acknowledgment 
 from me. Tell father that size is anything but an objection. 
 I cannot hope to grow to it, but I will bring it to my model, 
 and compose myself as comfortably as a warrior in his mar 
 tial cloak. It will be glorious o nights when we bivouac 
 by camp-fires, as I hope we must soon. 
 
 " We have had a glorious October day. Drill in the 
 morning, drill in the afternoon. Questions of suttler s 
 prices, of commissary s authority to settle rations, of quar 
 termaster s allowance of stationery, &c., &c., <fcc., the 
 family jars of our little family. I wish I could write you 
 a letter about something in particular J but just now there 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 117 
 
 is nothing special. I think the order to cook rations and 
 hold ourselves in readiness to march came direct from 
 McClcllan, and was a precaution against an expected attack 
 or resistance by the enemy opposite Washington. If so, 
 that danger has blown over, and we may lie still for another 
 week. They have, however, in this division, an organized 
 secrecy, which covers everything with a drop-curtain. I re 
 ceived yesterday a letter from Judge Abbott, congratulatory 
 on my expected promotion. I hope your ambition did not 
 wilt when you heard that things stood still. It is much 
 better for the regiment that they should, and far better for 
 me, and I experienced a rebound from my quite decided 
 depression when I found that the danger of losing our 
 colonels was over." 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, October 16, 1861. 
 
 " I always have an impulse to write when I get a letter, 
 and as yours of last Friday gladdened me this evening, 
 I am pen in hand again, though without a story. No ! 
 I have one, now I think of it. My maiden lady friend of 
 the spinning-wheel and flower-garden came to see me to-day. 
 She and her brother in their best. I gave them my hospi 
 talities, showed them the camp, &c., and made them very 
 content. They are full of patriotic ardor. Its form of 
 expression is various. The good lady brought me to-day as 
 a present, first, two quarts of milk ; second, a pair of roast 
 chickens ; third, two loaves of bread ; fourth, some preserved 
 cherries ; fifth, two apple-pies ; sixth, an immense bouquet 
 of roses and dahlias ; seventh, a bottle of balsam for cuts 
 and bruises, and other wounds , whether of the heart or 
 not the stanch maiden did not explain ; eighth, some butter. 
 I am persuaded that she brought me everything that oc 
 curred to her mind as possible. 
 
 " The Colonel had quite a joke over my trophies ; but I 
 noticed he ate the pies, and liked the cherries. It is re 
 freshing to see two honest country folk loving their flag with 
 such na ive simplicity. 
 
118 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 " They wish they could only do something, and just 
 now I seem to be the object of their baffled patriotism. 
 There is no evading the constancy of their attachment ; their 
 love of country will express itself on me. The bouquet, 
 which is half as tall as I am, fills my tent with its fragrance 
 while I write, and it is of an obtrusive and ardent gayety, 
 which seems almost out of season among the falling leaves 
 of October. 
 
 " Though I date this letter to-day, it was begun last night, 
 and will progress slowly, I am afraid, amid the interrup 
 tions of this morning. One does not see exactly what has 
 been accomplished by living a day in this camp ; but he finds, 
 as the hours pass, that something claims attention pretty 
 much all the time. 
 
 " I am just now going out to skirmish-drill with the bugle. 
 It is a part of the military duty which I fully understand, 
 and, accordingly, I like to perform it. I hope it won t be 
 long before I can say the same of all parts 
 
 " Tell Lillie and Charlie P. that I am glad they are knit 
 ting for their country, and I should like to come over and 
 take tea some evening." 
 
 " WILLARD S HOTEL, October 21, 1861, 
 Monday Morning. 
 
 " Your letter which spoke of William s bilious fever 
 alarmed my fraternity to such a degree that I got into 
 the saddle Saturday afternoon and found myself here at 
 evening. Yesterday morning I drove out to camp, and 
 found Colonel D wight prancing about his camp on horse 
 back, and his regiment at their morning inspection. I took 
 a good look at the Colonel s regiment, and was delighted 
 with it. The Colonel s fever had left him. I had a pleas 
 ant day yesterday visiting the fortifications near William s 
 camp. I go back to Darnestown immediately. 
 
 " This country needs a government. Every visit I make 
 to Washington makes me feel hopeless. Nothing is done. 
 Not half enough doing." 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 119 
 
 "PLEASANT HILL, October 21, 1861, 7 o clock, p. M. 
 Camp near Darnestown, for the last time ! 
 
 " I have just time to write you a word. I galloped up 
 here this morning in three hours. Then had a brisk battal 
 ion drill. Then came the news that Stone was crossing 
 the river at Edward s Ferry. We were ordered to report to 
 General Hamilton, changing our brigade again. That led 
 me off to the General s head-quarters, whence I have just 
 returned with marching orders. We go to Poolesville to 
 night, and cross, I suppose, to-morrow. I am no believer 
 in a fight ; but movement is life, and it seems quite like old 
 times to be in the saddle all day, and then all night again. 
 
 " My little gray mustang, which William got for me, took 
 me to Washington briskly. I came back at a loose, free 
 gallop. The whole division is now on the move. The men 
 seem happy as larks. I am in the midst of questioning and 
 orders and bustle. I cannot write any more. The Colonel 
 calls for me. I shall give this letter to Mr. Mudge, who 
 will tell you all about us. The Adjutant wants to pack his 
 pen and ink, with which I am writing. Mine is all packed. 
 Good by. Love to all." 
 
120 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTEK VIII. 
 
 LETTERS FROM CAMP NEAR CONRAD S FERRY. CAMP NEAR THE 
 LITTLE SENECA. BATTLE OF BALL S BLUFF. 
 
 " CAMP NEAR CONRAD S FERRY, October 24, 1861, 
 Thursday Morning. 
 
 E violation of every rule and maxim of military 
 law, the exaction of the extreme penalty therefor. 
 Such is the summing up of the massacre near Leesburg. 
 Does it awaken you to the fact that politicians are not gen 
 erals ? 
 
 " But how shall I tell you the story of these trying days ? 
 I wrote a hasty word as our line was forming on Monday 
 night. We marched gayly and willingly off in the moon 
 light towards Poolesville, at nine o clock in the evening. 
 We supposed we were to cross at Edward s Ferry, to aid in 
 a victorious advance upon Leesburg. The men marched 
 splendidly. At Poolesville we first met the faint shadows 
 of the coming gloom, a few stragglers of the Fifteenth 
 Massachusetts. " 4 Our companies are all cut to pieces. Our 
 captain is shot ; our lieutenant-colonel has lost his leg ; 
 we have all been cut up, &c. On we went, more earnestly, 
 and took the road to Conrad s Ferry. Then we began to 
 meet the flying and scattered soldiers. One with only an 
 overcoat, another with only a blanket, another with even less. 
 They all told one story, of flight and death and despair. Still 
 we pressed on. Our men were eager to reach the Ferry. We 
 got there at about three o clock in the morning. Eighteen 
 miles in between six and seven hours. Then came the rain, 
 and then came the order to stay where we were. The morn 
 ing broke, a wild, gusty, rainy morning, upon our shelter 
 less and weary regiment. The only house near where the 
 
LIFE AND LETTEES OF WILDER DWIGHT. 121 
 
 regiment stopped was filled with the wounded. As soon as I 
 could get away, I galloped down to the place of crossing. 
 I saw them letting down a wounded man on a stretcher into 
 the canal-boat. It was Captain John Putnam, a clever fel 
 low, of the New England Guards. I turned and went down 
 to the river, meeting on my way a dead one, and, as I 
 passed, one of the soldiers who carried him turned up the 
 face, and said, Yes, this is one of the Tammany boys. 
 I went to the river, to a flat-boat full of wounded ; found 
 Dr. Hay ward, of the Twentieth. He said that Lieutenant 
 Putnam, Mrs. Sam Putnam s son, was in the boat, badly 
 wounded. I spoke to him ; he was bright, but evidently 
 sinking. I asked him if I could do anything for him, telling 
 him who I was. He said, eagerly, i I should like to see 
 Lieutenant Higginson. I said I would bring him. Then I 
 asked about Caspar Crowninshield, Abbott, Lowell, Holmes. 
 Caspar, they thought, was wounded. Abbott, safe. Lowell 
 and Holmes, both wounded. A little while after Caspar 
 turned up. He was in the primitive costume of his over 
 coat and drawers, but full of cheery pluck, calm, clear, and 
 a young hero in bearing and aspect. He gave a clear ac 
 count of himself. I was compelled to go back to the regi 
 ment. I sent Lieutenant Higginson down, and did what I 
 could for the men. 
 
 " I had been in the saddle about twenty-four hours, and 
 without sleep, and I got into the house among the wounded, 
 and fell asleep on a camp-stool. Soon we were off again to 
 put the regiment in camp under cover of a wood. Just as 
 we got in camp, General Hamilton ordered five companies 
 
 to go on picket along the river-bank The next 
 
 morning at daylight, still raining, we were ordered to strike 
 our tents, and move back out of cannon range from the 
 river. We came to our present camp. General Hamilton 
 then ordered me to take three companies to the river, and 
 post pickets and keep a lookout. I started. At about three 
 o clock I returned to report to the General the position of 
 
122 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 things on the river, when I found General Banks and Gen 
 eral McClellan in his quarters. I enjoyed hearing McClel- 
 lan talk for half an hour. One good remark of his I recall. 
 Well, said he, so far we seem to have applied a new 
 maxim of war, always to meet the enemy with an inferior 
 force at the point of attack. General Hamilton then or 
 dered me to return, and cross to the island at night, and 
 remove some stores which had been left there. I started off 
 again. I got my preparations all made, when an order came, 
 at about eight, P.M., Take your companies at once to Ed 
 ward s Ferry to cross. The enemy is in force there. I drew 
 in my pickets, and got ready to move promptly, when I was 
 met, just as I started, by a mounted orderly, with a note ad 
 dressed to the officer in command moving towards Edward s 
 Ferry. Return to your camp, and await further orders. I 
 turned back. The orderly had orders for General Hamilton, 
 and did not know how to find him. It was dark, and I took 
 my horse and rode with him to General Hamilton s quarters. 
 Our regiment had started for Edward s Ferry before the 
 orderly arrived. When they got there, they were ordered 
 to return, and did so. This made the third night of fatigu 
 ing marching or guard duty, and to-day they are just done 
 up. My three companies got their rest, however, at the 
 river. It turns out that we were to support Stone, but 
 McClellan suddenly determined to withdraw him, and so 
 the countermanding order. To-night I go back to the river, 
 and go over to the island to remove the government stores. 
 That will give me a lively night again. I ought to be very 
 tired, but excitement makes me feel the fatigue very lit 
 tle 
 
 " Providence seems to have watched over the Massachu 
 setts Second, does it not ? It has saved us from Bull Run, 
 and now, from a worse blunder. For what has it reserved 
 us ? I hope and pray for the guidance of a good general, 
 unhampered. I must go back to the Ferry. Good by. 
 Love to all. God bless you." 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 123 
 
 " CAMP NEAE CONRAD S FERRY, October 25, 
 Friday Evening. 
 
 " I shall try to send you some pictures, though I am too 
 tired to-night for anything but sleep. 
 
 " Scene, our old camp ; time, evening. The regiment 
 just getting into marching array under crisp starlight. The 
 men gay with singing and laughter. The camp one huge 
 bonfire of old bedding and tent-floors. Every man in fine 
 marching condition. Again : Scene, the bank of the canal 
 at Conrad s Ferry ; time, eight o clock the next morning. 
 The regiment huddled in dripping groups, under a driving 
 rain. The men tired and silent. Ambulances of wounded 
 men passing by. Blankets swung on poles, covering the 
 bodies of the slain, and borne along with that heavy, dull 
 tread which betokens the presence of death. Jaded strag 
 glers from the river hurrying back, cold and half naked, 
 to their camps ; the interchange of greetings and tidings. 
 The Colonel and other field-officers huddled under an apple- 
 tree, breakfasting upon a hard-boiled egg, and shivering over 
 a feeble fire, questioning stragglers about the fight. Up 
 comes a Yankee-looking fellow, clad only in an overcoat, 
 with that peculiar hunched-up movement which indicates 
 shuddering cold. Dialogue between Colonel Gordon and 
 Yankee. Colonel G-. Where do you come from ? Y. The 
 river. 6r. What regiment? Y. Massachusetts Fifteenth. 
 G-. Did you fight ? Y. Wai, I guess we did some. Gr. 
 How many times did you fire ? Y. Thirty or forty. Gr. 
 What did you do during the day ? Y. Wai, at first 
 we was skirmishing along, and I got behind a tree, and 
 I was doing first rate. I come out once, but I see a feller 
 sightin at me, and so I got in again suddin. Then, arter 
 a while, the cavalry came down on us. I see there wa n t 
 much chance, and so I just dropped into a hole there was 
 there, and stayed still. Pretty soon we retreated towards 
 the river. We got together there, and formed a kind of a 
 line, and then the fitin really began. Some fellers came 
 
124 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 out near us, and says they, We re Colonel Baker s men. 
 Guess not, says I. Yes we are, says they. I know 
 better, says I. Let er rip, boys ! and we fired on em. 
 But t wa n t no kind o use. Baker got killed, and we 
 could n t see the enemy, and they raked us like death. I 
 finally come down the bank with the rest on em. I see 
 Colonel Devens there. Says I, Colonel, wot s to be done 
 now ? Boys, says he, you must take care of yourselves. 
 All right, Colonel, says I. And the way my couterments 
 come off was a caution. I swum the river. But I tell you 
 there was a sight on em did n t get across. 6r. Do you 
 want to go back again ? Y. Wai, not till I get rested. (7. 
 You re cold, ain t you ? Y. I tell you, I just am. 6r. 
 Don t you want some whiskey ? Y. Don t I ? (Yankee takes 
 a pull at the Colonel s flask, and expresses himself only 
 by a long, silent, intensely meaning wink.) Yankee then 
 turns and sees a shivering figure approaching. Hullo, 
 John ; I never expected to see you again. Wai, I guess 
 we d better go to camp, and off he moves. The drollery 
 of the scene I cannot give. I just indicate an outline of 
 the cool, circumstantial narratives that every other man 
 would give you. We found none so amusing as this, which 
 relieved our tedious breakfast. But the men showed no 
 fear, and, only by an occasional allusion, any sense of the 
 terrors through which some of them had passed. Their 
 only idea seemed to be, If there only had been more of us, 
 how we would have licked em ! All accounts agree that 
 the two Massachusetts regiments fought splendidly, as far 
 as individual daring and coolness go. 
 
 " I sent you off a letter yesterday ; for I must continue 
 my story without a formal introduction of each picture. I 
 mailed the letter with the ink wet upon it, and went off on 
 my duty to the river, to take charge of my picket-line along 
 the canal. But as tattoo is now beating, and as I put on 
 my clothes in Washington on Monday morning and have not 
 yet taken them off this Friday night, I will tell the rest of 
 my story to-morrow." 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 125 
 
 " CAMP NEAR THE LITTLE SENECA, Saturday Night, 
 9 o clock, P. M. 
 
 " He who predicts the morrow in this life has his labor 
 for his pains. The morrow takes care of itself. Here we 
 are, and tattoo is just beating again, and we are twelve 
 miles from our last night s camp. I will go on with my 
 story. When I got to the river, I began to carry out my 
 instructions from General Hamilton. They were, to visit 
 Harrison s Island, which was abandoned by our troops on 
 Tuesday night, and bring off some government stores. I 
 found that, owing to the stupidity of the officer whom I had 
 left in charge at the point of crossing opposite the island, 
 one of the ropes had been cut, and there was only one rope 
 left stretching across the river on which I could ferry my 
 men over. I got my men ready, took the two leaky flat- 
 boats and moored them well, and waited for darkness. The 
 night was very cold. In its cover we started with one boat, 
 leaving directions for the other to follow after we got across 
 and got things secure. We pulled across silently on the 
 rope which came up out of the water, and sagged a good 
 deal with the stream. Just as we got within the shadows 
 of the opposite bank, the Sergeant whispered, Hold on, 
 the rope has broken. The men held on by the end, and, 
 sure enough, it had parted, and we were swinging off down 
 stream away from the island. There was something laugh 
 able in the mischance. We had nothing for it but to return, 
 which we did, coiling the rope in our boat as we went back. 
 So ended all visits, for the present, by our troops to Harri 
 son s Island. I was kept on the alert all night by firing up 
 the river, and got no sleep of any consequence, sending 
 and receiving despatches from General Hamilton. At 
 light, a bright, golden, October morning, ice an inch 
 thick, I visited all the outlooks, and then went back to 
 camp to report to General Hamilton. After breakfast, on 
 Friday morning, the Colonel suggested that we should ride 
 to the Fifteenth and Twentieth. 
 
126 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 " I went to see Lieutenant-Colonel Ward. He has lost 
 his leg, below the knee. Said he, 4 Major, I am not as I 
 was in Washington. No, said I, 4 you should have ac 
 cepted my invitation, and ridden up with me on Monday. 
 We were together last Saturday night at Willard s, and I 
 begged him to wait till Monday and go up with me. He 
 said, No, I shall be needed in camp. 
 
 " We then went to the Twentieth. I wish all the friends 
 of the young wounded officers could see them ; it was a 
 pleasant picture. In the first tent I visited I found Captain 
 John Putnam. He was bright and in good spirits. I shook 
 his left hand. His right arm is gone at the shoulder. 
 Turning to the other bed, I met the pleasant smile of Lieu 
 tenant Holmes. He greeted me as cordially as if we had 
 met at home, talked gayly of soon getting well again. His 
 wound is through the body sideways, just missing the lungs, 
 and following the ribs. Young Lieutenant Lowell, too, in 
 the next tent, was making light of only a flesh wound in the 
 thigh. Caspar Crowninshield, whom I found helping Colo 
 nel Palfrey, and acting as Major, was as calm as possible. 
 He gave a very good account of the fight ; he evidently did 
 gloriously. Only once, when he spoke of the terrible scene 
 in the river after they got in swimming, did he seem to think 
 of the horrors of the scene. Young Harry Sturgis was 
 also bright. He said that Lieutenant Putnam, who was 
 wounded in the bowels, wished to be left, as he said, to die 
 on the field. That is the fit place to die, he said. But 
 Harry took him in his arms and brought him to the river. 
 Young Abbott looked well. Lieutenant Perry is a prisoner, 
 but I think safe, without doubt. So of Major Revere and 
 Colonel Lee. When we got back to camp I got a report 
 from the river that the enemy were quite numerous on the 
 opposite bluif, and that they were putting a field-piece in 
 position there. Though I did not credit it, down I went, 
 and spent the afternoon. We found they had occupied, or 
 rather visited, the island. My glass let me see them plainly 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 127 
 
 in many places, and in others they were within familiar 
 conversational distance. I found they were re-establishing 
 their pickets strongly. I left Captain Curtis in charge, and 
 returned to camp. I found that I was detailed as one of 
 the Examining Board for our division. The Board consists 
 of General Hamilton, Colonel Halleck, and myself. We 
 are to examine the officers as to their qualifications, &c. I 
 cannot approve of my appointment, but as it emanates from 
 the Head-quarters of the Army of the Potomac, I suppose 
 it is all right. 
 
 " This morning I was sitting at breakfast, when up rode 
 General Hamilton s aide. Major, said he, General Ham 
 ilton says you will move your detachment at once. 
 What detachment ? said I. i The advanced guard and 
 pioneers, said he. I have no orders, said I, i and no 
 guard. There is some mistake, said he. Then up came 
 a lieutenant from an Indiana regiment. I am ordered to 
 report to you, said he. 4 Very well, said I. I went over 
 to General Hamilton, and found the whole brigade was 
 under marching orders. By inadvertence we had not re 
 ceived ours. All the rest of the brigade were ready to start, 
 and our tents were all standing. I went off at once, with 
 my pioneers, and put the road in condition. Here we are 
 in camp. Our regiment was, of course, the last to start. 
 All the others were in motion before our tents were struck. 
 But our regiment passed all the others on the way, and was 
 first in camp to-night. We can march. Our night march 
 to the Ferry was perfect. Life is brisk with us, you see. 
 
 " I have father s letter about the stockings. After our 
 wretched wet marching, the stockings will be a mercy, I 
 think. Please to tell Mrs. Ticknor that towels, one apiece, 
 will be good for us. I did not think of mentioning them, 
 as, in the seriousness of actual business, the luxuries are 
 lost sight of. The regiment will move to-morrow to the 
 neighborhood of the mouth of the Muddy Branch, near the 
 Potomac. There we are to go into camp for the present. 
 
128 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 So ends our week s work. Hard and busy, but not without 
 its use. This morning, as our company on picket-duty came 
 along the canal to rejoin the regiment, the Rebels from the 
 island fired on them several times. They were also busy 
 diving and fishing for the guns which the men threw away 
 in their flight. 
 
 The rascals are very saucy over their victory. I think 
 they have the advantage of our men in the chaffing which 
 goes on across the river, though one of our corporals told the 
 sentry opposite him, who was washing his feet, to take his 
 feet out of his (the corporal s) river, or he would shoot 
 him. 
 
 " Reveilld will sound at five o clock to-morrow morning, 
 and at seven we shall be off and away. We are within three 
 miles of our old camp. To-morrow we go somewhat nearer 
 Washington. 
 
 " No paper that I have yet seen gives any idea of the fight, 
 as I glean it from various sources. No generalship seems 
 to have been used in the matter. Not a military glance 
 seems to have swept the field, not a military suggestion 
 seems to have planned the enterprise. The men crossed 
 at the worst point of the river ; they had only two small 
 scows to cross with ; retreat was impossible. 
 
 " If you could see how completely this rocky, wooded 
 bluff (of which I have attempted a sketch on the opposite 
 page) overhangs the island and the opposite shore, you 
 would realize what a mad place it was to cross at. If you 
 could see the scows, you would see what means they had to 
 cross. 
 
 " Again, the disposition of the troops was wretched. The 
 formation close upon the bluff, and with their rear right 
 upon the river, gave no chance to repair mischance. Also, 
 the thick wood which surrounded them gave the enemy 
 every opportunity to outflank them. If they had meant to 
 fight, they should have rested one of their flanks on the river, 
 and have protected the other by artillery. This would have 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 129 
 
 made their line perpendicular to the river. Their retreat 
 might have been up or down stream. But they could, prob 
 ably, have prolonged the fight till night, and then run for 
 luck in crossing. Such a position would have been stronger, 
 and retreat would have been less fatal. But they thought 
 apparently the two scows their line of retreat, while, in fact, 
 they were as bad as nothing. There does not seem to be a 
 single redeeming feature in the whole business. They went 
 on a fool s errand, went without means, and then per 
 sisted in their folly after it became clear 
 
 " It is useless to talk of what might have been ; but if you 
 had walked, as I have done, for the -past three days on that 
 canal tow-path opposite the bluff on whose crest our brave 
 men formed for a desperate struggle, you could not help 
 discoursing upon the military grotesqueness of the whole 
 action. I have said there is no redeeming feature in the 
 whole case. I am wrong. The determined courage of 
 Massachusetts officers and soldiers is a cheering gleam 
 through the gloom. But Heaven save us from any more 
 such tests of valor. The officer who brought you here 
 ought to be hung, said a Rebel officer to the burial party 
 who went over with a flag of truce on Tuesday to bury our 
 dead. I am afraid that is too true. 
 
 " The Rebels, on the other hand, managed finely. They 
 seem to have waited till they had caught a goodly number, 
 and then to have sprung their trap ruthlessly. McClellan s 
 first question was, How did our men fight ? . The answer 
 is plain, like heroes. If the men were properly officered, 
 they would be the best troops in the world 
 
 " The blunder and its consequences are of the past. The 
 future must be freighted with better hopes. As far as our 
 military position is concerned, except for the loss of life, 
 and perhaps of time, all is as well to-day as a week ago. 
 
 " We cannot be thankful enough for the mercy which 
 spared our regiment from having any other share in the 
 movement than to aid in repairing its disasters. I shall not 
 
130 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 soon forget that night s march, and that gloomy morning. 
 God bless you all at home ! We can trust, and must 
 trust, in that Power which will overrule everything for 
 good. Good night. I must get some sleep for to-morrow s 
 march." 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 131 
 
 CHAPTEK IX. 
 
 LETTERS FROM CAMP NEAR SENECA. 
 
 "CAMP NEAR SENECA, October 28, 1861. 
 
 " ~T WISH you could have looked in on our camp this 
 morning. The stockings came last night. They 
 were spread out under an oak-tree, and the companies were 
 well supplied. The- men were radiant over them. The 
 memory of our cold, wet week s marching and counter 
 marching was still fresh. The chill of the. October morn 
 ing had not yet yielded to the glowing brightness of the 
 sun. The sight of the stockings made us feel warm again. 
 The young officers paid particular attention to the bundle 
 from Professor Agassiz s school 
 
 " I had no idea that the stockings were so much needed, 
 but the fact is, they are so much better than the ones given 
 by government, that the men are eager for them. The 
 captains all say that there could not be a better gift. We 
 shall await the coming of the shirts and drawers with pleas 
 ure Collect and keep stockings, if you are willing 
 
 to do so, against another time of need. Convey, in some 
 form, to the donors, our high appreciation of their kindness. 
 It is the thing. And it makes men feel a tingle of grateful 
 pleasure out here, to think they are remembered and cared 
 for at home. Apart, even, from their usefulness, the stock 
 ings bring a warming and cheering sensation to the men. 
 That is the moral aspect of the present. 
 
 " We made a brisk little march yesterday morning, and 
 at noon were in camp again, on a charming spot, shel 
 tered by a fine wood, within the edge of which are the field 
 and staff tents, while the regiment extends out into the 
 open field. We are within a mile of the Potomac. The 
 enemy s pickets ornament the opposite shore, while we 
 
132 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 adorn this. The point is near the mouth of the Seneca, and 
 about opposite Drainsville. 
 
 " After a week s work, we are again, on this Monday, ap 
 parently as far from any immediate active duty as we were 
 a week ago. I do not know that I can bring myself now to 
 be so impatient of delay as I have been. It was the itch 
 for a poor kind of distinction that led to the massacre at 
 Leesburg. 
 
 " We find, on our return to our old division, that the regi 
 ment is reassigned to General Abercrombie s brigade ; and 
 to-morrow we are to move into our new position. The 
 General places us first in his, the First Brigade. That 
 gives us the post of honor, the right of the whole of Gen 
 eral Banks s Division. 
 
 " I have not yet commenced my duties as Examiner of 
 Officers. We have been so locomotory lately that there 
 has been no time for anything. A pretty low standard of 
 qualifications will have to be adopted, or we shall have to 
 exclude a great many of the present officers. 
 
 " William, I suppose, is down on his old ground again, 
 opposite Aquia Creek, trying to reopen, or keep open, the 
 Potomac. Well, I wish him luck ; but the leaves of autumn 
 are falling, and we seem to be just about in the same 
 position that we were when I saw the buds first bursting 
 last spring in Annapolis." 
 
 " CAMP NEAR SENECA, October 30, 1861. 
 
 " We still keep the camping-ground in which we were 
 when I last wrote, and we are enjoying the brightest of Oc 
 tober days. There is a general impression that winter-quar 
 ters, or some such depressing movement, is to be the fate of 
 the grand Army of the Potomac 
 
 " Yesterday Captain Gary took a letter from Colonel Gor 
 don to General Evans in command at Leesburg. The 
 Colonel was a West Point friend of General Evans, and 
 wrote to ask the fate of our friends of the Twentieth. Cap- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 133 
 
 tain Gary took a white handkerchief on a stick as his flag 
 of truce, and crossed the river in a skiff. He went up and 
 down the river, but could find no picket anywhere. After 
 wandering about with his flag for three hours, he came to a 
 farm-house. The man was a Union man. He said he had 
 been twice arrested, and refused to take the letter. He told 
 Gary that he had seen no soldiers for a week, and thought 
 there were none nearer than Leesburg, but he advised the 
 Captain to go back, as lie said his flag of truce would not 
 be respected. Gary made up his mind to return. I confess 
 I was very glad indeed to see him back, and considered the 
 
 expedition a very risky one 
 
 " We have a beautiful camping-ground here, and are get 
 ting it into perfect order for muster to-morrow. The last 
 day of October is our semi-monthly muster and inspection." 
 
 " MUDDY BRANCH CAMP, CAMP NEAR SENECA, 
 November 1, 1861. 
 
 " You have your choice of dates, for I think our camp 
 lies between the two, and General Banks uses the former 
 designation for the division, while General Abercrombie uses 
 the latter for his brigade. I hope that we shall cease to 
 have occasion to use either date before the traditional 
 Thanksgiving day overtakes us. Unless we do, it will find 
 us in the wilderness, and in fasting and humiliation. I look 
 to see ripeness in these late autumn days, and I hope that, 
 without shaking the tree of Providence, some full-grown 
 events may gravitate rapidly to their ripe result, even in this 
 ill-omened month of November. Your letter of Monday 
 takes too dark a view of events. I can well understand 
 that, at your distance, our hardships and trials look harder 
 than they seem to us. I do not, in the least, despair of 
 happy results, and the more I think of the Edward s Ferry, 
 or loon-roads^ or Conrad s Ferry mishap (or, to describe it 
 alliteratively, the blunder of Ball s Bluff), the more clearly 
 it seems to me to be an insignificant blunder on the out- 
 
134 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 skirts of the main enterprise, which, except for the unhappy 
 loss of life, and except as a test of military capacity, is now 
 a part of the past, without any grave consequences to follow. 
 I was well aware that, in writing my first letter, I should 
 give you the vivid, and possibly the exaggerated impres 
 sions of the sudden and immediate presence of the disaster. 
 The wreck of a small yacht is quite as serious to the crew 
 as the foundering of the Great Eastern. But the under 
 writers class the events very differently. And in our na 
 tional account of loss, Ball s Bluff will take a modest rank. 
 
 " Should the naval expedition prove a success, and should 
 the Army of the Potomac strike its blow at the opportune 
 moment, we can forget our mishap. You see I am chasing 
 again the butterflies of hope. Without them life would n t 
 be worth the living. 
 
 " Tell father I have read the pleasant sketch of Soldiers 
 and their Science, which he sent me. I wish he would get 
 me the book itself, through Little and Brown, and also 
 4 Crawford s Standing Orders, and send them on by express. 
 This coming winter has got to be used in some way, and I 
 expect to dedicate a great part of it to catching up with 
 some of these West Point officers in the commonplaces of 
 military science. 
 
 " We are quietly in camp again, and are arranging our 
 camping-ground with as much neatness and care as if it 
 were to be permanent. The ovens have been built, the 
 ground cleared, the stumps uprooted, and now the air is 
 full of the noise of a large party of men who are clearing 
 off the rubbish out of the woods about our tents. By Sun 
 day morning our camp will look as clean and regular and 
 military as if we had been here a month. Yesterday was 
 the grand inspection and muster for payment. I wish you 
 could have seen the regiment drawn up with its full equip 
 ment, knapsacks, haversacks, and all. It was a fine 
 sight. By the way, why does not father snatch a day or 
 two, and come out to see us ? We are only a pleasant 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 135 
 
 morning s drive from Washington, and I think he would 
 
 enjoy seeing us as we are in our present case. D 
 
 would enjoy the trip, too, and they might also pay a visit 
 to William down at Port Tobacco, or wherever he may 
 now be. I throw out this suggestion. 
 
 " To-day I am brigade officer of the day, and I have been 
 in the saddle this morning three or four hours visiting the 
 camps and the pickets on the river. It has been a beautiful 
 morning of the Indian summer, and I have enjoyed it 
 greatly. Colonel Andrews took cold and got over-fatigued 
 during our last week s work, and he is quite down with a 
 feverish attack. Yesterday I found a nice bed for him in a 
 neighboring house, and this morning he is quite comfortable. 
 We miss him very much in camp, and I hope he 11 be up 
 in a day or two 
 
 " Happy that nation whose annals are tiresome, writes 
 some one. c Lucky that major whose letters are dull, think 
 you, I suppose. That good fortune, if it be one, I now 
 enjoy. 
 
 " I have an opportunity to send this letter, and so off it 
 goes, with much love to all at home, in the hope that you 
 will keep your spirits up." 
 
 " CAMP NEAR SENECA, Sunday Evening, 
 Novembers, 1861. 
 
 " If you had waked night before last in our camp, you would 
 have thought yourself in a storm at sea, with a very heavy 
 northeaster blowing. By the rattle, and creak, and strain, 
 and whistle of the canvas and gale, you would have be 
 lieved that the good ship was scudding before the blast. If 
 you had shivered outside to attempt to secure your flutter 
 ing tent, you might, by a slight effort of the imagination, 
 have thought yourself overboard. When the morning 
 broke, after a sleepless and dreamy night, expectant of 
 disaster, you would have seen, here and there, a tent pros 
 trate, and the wind and rain, for you could see them both, 
 wildly making merry over the storm-driven camp. As the 
 
136 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 Colonel stepped out of his tent at reveille*, a big branch 
 from an overhanging tree came crashing down upon it, and 
 broke the pole, and drove into the tent he had just stepped 
 from. There s luck, said I, putting out my own head at 
 the instant. We went out, and found half a dozen of the 
 limping officers tents flat upon the ground in shapeless 
 masses. Captain Gary said, with an attempt at mirth, I 
 woke up about three o clock with a confused idea that some 
 thing was wrong, and found my face covered with wet 
 canvas, and my tent-pole across my breast. I crawled out 
 into the rain, and ran for shelter. By the chill and ex 
 posure of the night, I found myself a little under the 
 weather, and I found the weather a good deal over me. I 
 was indisposed for breakfast, and the Doctor said, with a 
 meaning chuckle, i Sea-sick, I guess. I got my tent se 
 cured with ropes and strong pins, and, after considering 
 the best way to be least uncomfortable, determined to go to 
 bed and feel better by and by? What a day it was! The 
 storm howled and roared, and seemed to tear the tent away 
 from its moorings. I had every alternation of fear and 
 hope, but, to my surprise, weathered the gale. The Ser- 
 geant-Major, who is an old soldier and a professional 
 croaker, and whose rueful phiz always appears shining with 
 grim pleasure amid disaster, who says, with a military sa 
 lute, Can t get nothing done, sir, not as it ought to be, 
 sir, the Sergeant-Major appeared at my tent with his 
 gloom all on. 4 Tent is blown down, sir; pins don t seem 
 to do no good, sir ; my things is all wet, sir. Never see no 
 storm, sir, equal to this in Mexico, sir. Well, Sergeant, 
 it 11 be pleasanter to-morrow, is all the satisfaction he gets. 
 The day blew itself away, and, as we had hoped, the sun 
 and wind went down together. This morning a clear sky 
 and bright sunshine brought their gladness with them, and 
 our Sunday morning inspection was a proof that each to 
 morrow finds us better than to-day. The men came out 
 bright and shining and clean, except an occasional unfor- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 137 
 
 tunate whose clothes were drying. ; Got wet yesterday, 
 sir, was a valid excuse, though not a frequent one. The 
 day was a proof, however, that winter-quarters in this lati 
 tude will have to be our resource before many weeks. Tell 
 
 Mr. that I put my feet in a pair of his stockings, and 
 
 thought of him with the warmest affection. Sich is life, 
 and, more particularly, camp life. To-day we receive the 
 news of Scott s retirement, which has been rumored of late. 
 I did not think that the day would come when the country 
 would welcome his loss. But I think every one is relieved 
 by his retirement. Now McClellan assumes an undivided 
 responsibility, and if he has courage to defy the politicians, 
 he may yet win the laurel which is growing for the suc 
 cessful general of this righteous but blunder-blasted war. 
 What a fame is in store for that coming man. Talk of 
 hero-worship. The past cannot furnish a parallel for the 
 idolatry which will bow down before the man who restores 
 the prestige and rekindles the associations of our dear old 
 flag. You ask in your last letter if my heart does not sink. 
 Sink ? It swims like a duck when I think of the future 
 which some of our eyes shall see ; and will not they swim, 
 too, with intense delight, when the sight dawns upon them ? 
 For myself, even now, I cannot look upon the flag which we 
 brought away from Boston without a glow and heart-bump, 
 which I take to be only faint symptoms of the emotion that 
 is to come. I augur well from McClellan s new power, and 
 I feel sure that things will go better for it. One will, one 
 plan, one execution. As to the immediate results, I have 
 no opinion. Upon this line of operations I do not look for 
 anything decisive this winter. Yet it is not impossible that 
 the season may favor us sufficiently to allow activity here 
 this month. 
 
 " Monday Evening. 
 
 " I did not finish my letter last night, as there was no 
 mail out. This will go to-morrow. It takes no news, except 
 that Colonel Andrews seems quite to have settled into a 
 
138 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 fever. The fever is by no means severe, but it may drag 
 slowly along. There is nothing dangerous in his condition, 
 only to be abed is not pleasant, and to be weak is miserable. 
 I have got him very pleasantly fixed, and he has the best 
 care that we can give him We have had drills to 
 day, and the usual incidents of camp life. Our family 
 is having a little measles, but is otherwise well. We 
 have fine, clear weather again, and a bright, hopeful new 
 moon." 
 
 " CAMP NEAR SENECA, November 6, 1861. 
 
 " The war cannot be long. It may be desperate. This 
 is not prophecy from the closet. It is inspiration from the 
 master of the position. I claim for our General the rare 
 virtue of sincerity, the fibre of all genuine character. I 
 repose on his statements. Recollect that he wields the 
 causes. Shall he not predict the consequence ? I ask 
 in the future forbearance, patience, and confidence. But 
 not for long. If he can compel our people to yield him 
 those, he has already gained a victory like the conquest of 
 a city. I trust and feel that the day is not far distant 
 when I shall return to the place dearest of all others to 
 me. 
 
 " Now that s cheerful. Of course he won t go home and 
 leave us on the wrong bank of the Potomac, of course he 
 won t go home and leave his lambs to come back wagging 
 their tales, or tails, behind them and him. No ! let us ac 
 cept, let us hail the omen. Youth is at the prow. Pleas 
 ure, God s own pleasure, has the helm. For one, I am 
 ready for the voyage: I take McClellan s speech to the 
 Philadelphia deputation for my chart. 
 
 " I am afraid this is in the nature of rhapsody ; but then 
 it is November, and one must live in the imagination, and 
 look over into the land of promise, or he may wither and 
 fall like the leaves about him. 
 
 " I wrote thus far yesterday, but the gloomy sky and chill 
 ing blasts were so unpropitious, that I thought I would not 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 139 
 
 attempt to resist their influence. It was a regular heavy, 
 clouded, wet day. We had as yet no news of the fleet, 
 and nothing to lift ourselves above the influence of the 
 weather. Last evening we got a rumor of the safe arrival 
 of the fleet off Bull s Bay, near Charleston, after the blow. 
 
 Upon this vague elation we went to sleep I am very 
 
 glad to receive your copy of Howard s letter, and rejoice that 
 he is in the midst of serious work. I recognize in his ac 
 count the inevitable hardships and vicissitudes of his new 
 life. As part of the Western army, he will undoubtedly see 
 active service this winter, and will perhaps hardly get breath 
 ing time, unless he pauses awhile in Memphis to take a look 
 at his old cotton-press. I am very glad that he is there, 
 and prefer his position in the line to one on the staff, if he is 
 equally well pleased with it. You say you like to receive 
 my letters, and so, of course, I am most happy to write, but 
 there is really just nothing to say. Yesterday, for example, 
 all our fires smoked. My little stove was very vigorous in 
 that direction. Proverbs are said to be the condensed wis 
 dom of ages. I recalled that, Where there is so much 
 smoke there must be some fire, and cheerfully hung on to 
 the maxim through the day ; but I felt very little fire. Then 
 the question of moving the hospital was raised, considered, 
 and settled ; then the increase of measles was croaked and 
 investigated ; then the news came that the patient sick with 
 typhus would die, and at evening he was dead ; and now, 
 
 this morning, we are preparing his funeral 
 
 " To-day we have no news but the prevailing and increas 
 ing rumor that we shall move, in a day or two, into winter- 
 quarters, or, at least, out of these quarters. I have a sort 
 of hope that the fates may select our regiment for some 
 Southern service, if we succeed in getting a good foothold 
 on the coast." 
 
 " CAMP NEAR SENECA, November 8, 1861. 
 
 " Your letter and C- - s and D s all came last even 
 ing. I was right glad to see them. They warmed and cheered 
 
140 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 me on the coldest night of our camping experience 
 
 Colonel Gordon goes off to-day, on a leave of absence, for a 
 
 short visit home Colonel Andrews is getting better, 
 
 but is still shut up, and must be for some time ; so I am left 
 in command. Of course there will nothing happen but the 
 quiet recurrence of reveille*, drill, and tattoo, but it is a 
 different feeling to have the ropes in your own hands. I am 
 afraid my last letter was a little dull. It was written, 
 towards its close, to the depressing sound of a band re 
 hearsal of the Dead March for a coming funeral. Such 
 clouds will overhang one s paper, and leave their shadow. 
 But they are mere shadows. Our hope and faith are as 
 
 firm as ever, and the world wags on 
 
 " Tell Mrs. Ticknor that I have no statement of our 
 wants or wishes to add to those already made, unless it be 
 for woollen mittens, which would, of course, be gladsome to 
 the men if they are to stay here, of which we can know 
 nothing. Mind, I do not ask for any of these things, but 
 
 state the case merely. Love to all. Tell he is the 
 
 dearest fellow in the world." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR SENECA, November 10, 1861, 
 Sunday Evening. 
 
 " I have had a quiet Sunday. Colonel Gordon s sudden 
 resolution to snatch a visit home has left me alone with the 
 regiment. On the whole, I don t mind the care, though 
 my shoulders are young to it. A little knapsack-drill keeps 
 a soldier in marching order, you know, and so of an officer. 
 There are a good many things to call for care and thought 
 just now in the regiment. The care of our sick ; the selec 
 tion of a good camping-ground in place of our present 
 over-damp site ; the problem of keeping warm when air 
 and ground seem heavy with chilliness ; the maintenance 
 of drills and discipline when so many of our officers are 
 absent or sick, not more than half being now present for 
 duty, these are a few of the considerations that vibrate 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 141 
 
 the pendulum of my thoughts. I have just been out to 
 tattoo, and so, as my little family is put quietly to bed, I 
 am free to write, read, or sleep, as I choose. Another 
 rainy day yesterday, and the pleasant sun of to-day looked 
 as if he were breeding clouds for to-morrow. So is Novem 
 ber on the Potomac. If the news is half true from the fleet, 
 why may not a turn of fortune embark us for some Southern 
 shore, and give us a short cut to the tropics ? 
 
 " Tell father that he happened to send me just the book 
 I wanted, Halleck s. I fancy it is a clear statement of 
 some things it would be well for a major to bear in mind. 
 Our day has been regular and quiet. Of course, my only 
 purpose is to keep the machine in the same running order 
 as it now is 
 
 " It is the next morning since I began this letter. I have 
 been having a long talk with General Banks at his head 
 quarters. The General does not seem to know exactly 
 when we move from here, but it is clear that our division 
 will not remain here for the winter. It is astonishing how 
 this army life philosophizes a man. I think a few years of 
 it would make one impervious to the storms of outrageous 
 fortune. Colonel Andrews is in a very pleasant house, and 
 is rapidly getting well. You would be amused to see me 
 drill my battalion. It only shows we never can tell what 
 we can do. When I voted for Abraham Lincoln a year ago, 
 I did not suppose I was electing myself into a damp wheat- 
 field with a regiment on my hands ; but that is, apparently, 
 what I voted for. I only wish all the wheat-fields in the 
 neighborhood bore the same harvest." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR SENECA, November 14, 1861. 
 
 " I should have written a line at a shorter interval from 
 my last if I had not been full of work. I decided to move 
 my camp on Tuesday morning, and have given the last two 
 days to making the men comfortable in their new quarters. 
 By some strange mishap, we got upon an unlucky piece of 
 
142 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 ground for our camp. We were assailed by diarrhoea, 
 officers and men. But I think I have made a fortunate 
 selection of a new ground, and I am myself feeling much 
 better. Our whole mess was under the weather. As I 
 am left alone in command, I have been obliged to snatch 
 odds and ends of time to be a little sick in. Now, however, 
 we are out upon high, open ground, and have fine, clear 
 sunshine, and we are all well again. I do not wish either 
 to complain or be elate, but I have, this morning, a tranquil 
 satisfaction in obstacles overcome, and sunshine achieved. 
 You know there are times when everything seems to get 
 going wrong. The Colonel seemed to leave the regiment 
 just at that moment. But now we start again. 
 
 " We never had a more regular, neat, and comely camp 
 than we have to-day. Of course I enjoy that, and I am 
 trying to keep the machine in good order 
 
 " If there were no one waiting for me, I should try and 
 scribble this sheet full, but, in the end, you would know 
 only that reveille and tattoo succeed one another naturally ; 
 that our camp is pleasant, and, I hope, healthy ; and that 
 to be major commanding a regiment is a busy life, but, on 
 the whole, a happy one, as lives go. Love to all." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR SENECA, MARYLAND, November 14, 1861. 
 
 " Though I wrote you a letter this morning, I may as 
 well begin another to-night. The patter of the rain reminds 
 me that my new camping-ground is to be put to its test. I 
 have just finished reading, in the Baltimore Clipper, the 
 news of the fleet. Glad tidings ! Such thrusts as these 
 between the ribs of Rebeldom will make it wince. Success, 
 too, gladdens me, independently of its results. I have got 
 tired of delay and failure. Except Sherman s proclamation, 
 the account all reads well. That is altogether too mealy- 
 mouthed. For one, I should like to go there announcing 
 that I come as an enemy to waste with fire and sword. 
 That s what we mean to do, and I should like the satisfac 
 tion of saying so. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 143 
 
 " But if calling things by the wrong names pleases the 
 President, and does not alter the things themselves, why, 
 we must put up with it. An army is a stern fact, and its 
 presence will indicate itself roughly enough. 
 
 " The sudden movement of the slaves shows that fire 
 among tinder has one effect. The slight indication afforded 
 by the account of the servile movement is instructive. I 
 am afraid it upsets my friend s theories. Indeed, the 
 orizing in these times is very hazardous. I had rather 
 fight. 
 
 " The incidents of my day are not very interesting. 
 Colonel Andrews grows better, but his recovery must be 
 slow. The attempt to make things go right is an arduous 
 and irritating one always. In a regiment it is particularly 
 so, because where one thousand men are concerned a thou 
 sand little matters will go wrong inevitably. The net re 
 sult, when you come to look at it, is often very good, while 
 every ingredient seems to be the wrong one. But I have 
 no reason to complain of the results, and so I will e en be 
 philosophical and calm in my observation of the processes. I 
 am glad to be getting quite well and strong again. Many 
 of my recent sensations have not been those appropriate to 
 a major commanding. But now I am getting firm again 
 in my saddle, and can even use the spurs, if desirable. 
 I expect my servant to-morrow. I shall feel very much like 
 killing a fatted calf for him. Our rainy night leaves us in 
 very good condition, and satisfies me that my camp is a 
 good one. I have just finished a chilly breakfast ; have 
 directed some punishments ; have seen to it that the com 
 pany for picket duty at the river starts in season ; have re 
 fused the applications for leave of absence ; have wept 
 copious but unsympathizing tears over my fire, which will 
 smoke ; have received the reports of the officer of the day ; 
 have examined the Surgeon s report and the company re 
 ports, and reduced the sick-list thirty-two men ; have que 
 ried and questioned variously, and expect to do so for an 
 
144 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 hour longer. I feel exceedingly well and lively, and will 
 close this letter in season for the mail." 
 
 " CAMP NEAR SENECA, November 16, 1861. 
 
 " The difference between our actions in this war seems 
 to be, that we don t half do our Ball s Bluffs, and we do half 
 do our Port Royals. Fruit ripe in South Carolina, and no 
 one to pick it. That s the way I read the news from the 
 scene of our late success. Where are the next twenty 
 thousand troops ? They should be within an hour s sail of 
 Port Royal. Is it a sagacious military conjecture, that a 
 victory at that point would strike terror and panic to the 
 neighboring cities ? If so, should not that conjecture have 
 anticipated the result of which we are just beginning to 
 hear ? Should it not have provided a force to enjoy and 
 intensify that panic ? I know of a whole division, which, 
 instead of shivering in the mud of Maryland, would gladly 
 be pursuing a panic-stricken multitude with fire and sword. 
 Why not ? Of course, we are much in the dark, but my 
 guess is, that twenty thousand good soldiers could to-day 
 enter either Charleston or Savannah. If they could not 
 occupy and hold, they could burn and destroy. Rebels 
 and Traitors, I would head my proclamation. Not Caro 
 linians and Fellow-citizens. Not peace, but the sword. 
 There is cotton to tempt avarice, negroes to tempt philan 
 thropy, Rebels to tempt patriotism, everything to warrant 
 a great risk. As I read the Southern accounts, they seem 
 to me to indicate the presence of panic. From that, I infer 
 a weak and exposed condition. We shall leave them time 
 to recover their courage, and strengthen their defences. I 
 do not know what is possible to our i Great Country, but, 
 possible or impossible, I would pour an avalanche on that 
 shore forthwith. 
 
 " You see that reflection and conjecture are the only 
 amusements of our rainy days. So I must fill my letters 
 with guesses and hopes. I advise you to read McClellan s 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 145 
 
 Review of the "War in the Crimea. One could wish that his 
 pen were free to criticise his own campaign. Could he not 
 expose, here and there, a blunder ? Perhaps the answer is, 
 It is not his campaign. 
 
 " My new man arrived last night, very unexpectedly to 
 himself, apparently ; for he seemed to find obscurity en 
 veloping his path, and to think his advance to this point a 
 great success. 
 
 " He brought letters which delighted me. It was mail 
 night, and I had no mail till John came with his budget. 
 Father seems to speak stoically of a long war. What it 
 may be wmiianaged into I cannot say, but, decently man 
 aged, it cannot be a long war. The disasters and embar 
 rassments which will follow in its train will be long enough ; 
 the war itself short and desperate, I hope. 
 
 " There is something ludicrous in writing so quietly on 
 calm, white paper, without expressing at all the roaring, 
 whistling, wintry surroundings of my present scene. Our 
 yesterday s rain has cleared off cold. Heal winter this 
 morning. Ice in the wash-basin, numbness in the fingers, 
 frost from the breath. I rejoice in the invigorating turn 
 that the weather has taken. I feel myself much better for 
 it, and I know it must improve the health and vigor of the 
 camp. But the howling blast is a stern medicine, and even 
 now it shakes my tent so that my pen trembles. I should 
 like you to have seen the picture our camp presented at 
 reveill^ this morning. I purposely went out without my 
 overcoat, and walked leisurely down the line, as if I were 
 fanned by the zephyrs of June. I wished to have the men 
 observe that I recognized nothing unusual in our first tasto 
 of winter. Still, in point of fact, it was cold. Now drill is 
 going on without overcoats. I told them they must double- 
 quick if they were cold. The only way is, to hold things 
 up to the sharp line under all circumstances. It will be a 
 little hard to keep up the illusion all winter, I fear, however. 
 
 Still, everything requires bracing up constantly. The virtue 
 10 
 
146 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 of this military life is the importunate recurrence of daily- 
 duty. Rain or shine, health or sickness, joy or grief, re- 
 veiHe* knocks cequo pede with impartial cadence at every 
 tent. Its lively and awakening beat thrills a new life 
 through the camp, as the rising sun whitens the glowing 
 east. And then when tattoo at evening awakes the men to 
 sleep (for it is not a soothing strain), duty performed has 
 made them happy, or should have done so, on the authority 
 of the great expounder of the Constitution himself. Such 
 are the consolations of camp life in November. But then, 
 as Dr. Hedge happily observes in a discourse on 4 National 
 Weakness, the Rebel power is still unsubdued ; the har 
 vest is passed, the summer is ended, and we are not saved. 
 True, but we are not lost. We propose in the Massachusetts 
 Second to keep Thanksgiving day thankfully, if not for what 
 has happened, at least for what has not happened. I have 
 just sent out an order for the provision of Thanksgiving din 
 ners for the men. And I quite expect that turkey and plum- 
 pudding will smoke on our mess-pans and exhale from our 
 ovens on Thursday next. I could be content to be at home 
 on that day, but, failing that, I shall enjoy an attempt to ex 
 temporize and emulate a New England Thanksgiving in a 
 Maryland camp on the wrong bank of the Potomac. We 
 shall read the Thanksgiving Proclamation, and be as happy 
 as we may. I suppose you will have your usual celebration. 
 I expect to enjoy the unusual honor to come in among the 
 absent friends 
 
 " The pleasure of reading your last letter* was somewhat 
 alloyed, I confess, by the pervading strain of eulogy of my 
 own letters. It is all nonsense. The story is a very good 
 one, perhaps ; the telling it is nothing ; and as for histori 
 cal value, you just wait. Our little events will not be a 
 paragraph in the record which ought to be and must be 
 written. 
 
 " Father closes his last letter with the very kind wish 
 that he knew what to send me. I happen to be able to tell 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 147 
 
 him, viz. a little nice English breakfast tea. A good 
 honest cup of black tea would delight me. If you should 
 find that Colonel Gordon has not gone back before this 
 reaches you, pray make him the bearer of a small package 
 of tea. 
 
 " I see by to-night s Clipper (it is Saturday evening while 
 I write), that a delegation from Baltimore goes to ask the 
 President for government patronage for the repentant city. 
 This fulfils a prediction I had the honor to make. I see, 
 also, that the landing of our force at Beaufort was a scene 
 of disorder and confusion. That comes of sending the 
 rawest troops to the hardest duty. I am puzzled to know 
 why this is done to such an alarming extent. But tattoo 
 is just beating. It is a raw and gusty night. The air 
 bites shrewdly. I think I will leave that puzzle unsolved, 
 and get within the warm folds of my constant buffalo-robe. 
 Good night. Grandmother will be pleased to hear, before 
 I go to bed, that with one of her blankets I have just made 
 Captain Mudge warm and comfortable in a little attack of 
 illness which has just overtaken him. The soft blanket 
 will be as good as the Doctor s medicine, better, per 
 haps 
 
 " I have just room to bid you good morning, this Sunday 
 morning. I am just ready for inspection, and have no doubt 
 the day will work itself off quietly and pleasantly." 
 
148 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 LETTERS FROM CAMP NEAR SENECA. 
 
 " CAMP NEAR SENECA, November 19, 1861. 
 
 " T) Y every rule of gratitude, after receiving father s long 
 [) and cheerful letter this morning, this letter should 
 be written to him. But, as the countryman said of his 
 wife, that what was her n was his n, and what was his n was 
 Jiis own, so I fancy I shall talk as freely to both, though I 
 write to only one. Did I not get a letter off on Sunday ? 
 I think so. That was a day of bright-blue cold. I gave up 
 church because I had not the heart to keep the men even 
 in a devout shiver for an hour. Yesterday I got a little pull 
 back again. I had fully made up my mind to be perfectly 
 well, so it shook my confidence a trifle. I had to keep busy 
 in order to regain it. The day looked rather gloomy. The 
 Adjutant was taken sick, and the Sergeant-Major. So I had 
 to detail raw hands. Three captains were on their backs. 
 The infernal malaria seemed to have wilted every one. 
 Drills were dull, and the hospital over busy. There was a 
 general cheerlessness overhanging every one. 
 
 " Just at this moment what does the perverse generalship 
 of our inapposite brigadier but send me an order : There 
 will be a review and inspection of this brigade in the large 
 field hitherto known as a division review -ground near 
 Darnestown. There was hopelessness. Colonel and Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel both away ; Adjutant and half the captains 
 off duty ; myself just between wind and water ; every one 
 dumpish. It never rains without pouring. The band 
 leader and the drum-major reported themselves sick at 
 parade. Whew-w-w-w-w ! I think it all had a tonic and 
 astringent effect on me. sympathized with me in my 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER. D WIGHT. 149 
 
 efforts to repair disasters in season for a grand review. I 
 told her that, though things did n t look very bright, yet 
 I had always noticed one thing, a dark morning kept grow 
 ing better, and I was going to get up with that faith. I 
 made my arrangements busily last evening. 
 
 " This morning was jolly cold. I was busy about all the lit 
 tle formalities and precisions which belong to such occasions, 
 settling them with the various officers to whom the duties 
 belonged. The Acting Adjutant had a little delay which 
 bothered me, but at about ten o clock the line- was formed, 
 the men all in overcoats, with full equipment. The morn 
 ing had mellowed into Indian-summer. After all, the Massa 
 chusetts Second did look finely. We marched off briskly 
 to Darnestown, about a mile and a half. The regiment 
 arrived at the large field a few moments late, the fault of 
 a green adjutant. No great matter, but an annoyance. 
 The rest of the brigade was in line, my place was on the 
 right. I formed the regiment a little in rear of the line, 
 then rode up to General Abercrombie, who said he wished 
 the whole brigade line changed. This gave me a chance 
 to move our regiment right out in line of battle. I advanced 
 them, and they moved with excellent precision, keeping their 
 line exactly. It was a refreshing turn. The regiment sa? 
 luted, and then marched round in review, passing round the 
 whole field, and saluting the General, who was at the centre, 
 opposite the front of our line. The regiment marched well, 
 the distances all well kept, and wheeled into line again 
 finely. So far, well. Then an inspection, which is a tedious 
 process. The General noticed, what is certainly true, that 
 the men lopked peaked, dwindled, pined. But their sol 
 dierly appearance was undeniable. As if to cap the climax 
 of our day s work, the General turns to me and says, Put 
 the battalion through a short drill, and then you can take 
 them home. I might have mentioned that I rose this 
 morning pretty well except a raging headache, and, on the 
 whole, felt brisk. I did not much feel like shouting through 
 
150 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 a battalion-drill, however. Still, I did it. We did it pret 
 ty well, too, on the whole. Shall I tell you what we did ? 
 You will understand it exactly. The battalion, as formed for 
 inspection, was in open column of companies, right in front. 
 I first threw them forward into line, which went well, then 
 double-columned on the centre, countermarched and de 
 ployed, then repeated that movement at a double-quick, then 
 broke the line to the left, and wheeled again to the right into 
 line, then broke to the right by companies, closed in mass 
 and formed divisions, then column forward and round by 
 two wheels, closed in mass to their old front, then halted 
 and deployed column on the first division at a double-quick, 
 bringing them on their original line. Then, after a rest, 
 broke by right of companies to the rear, and so marched 
 home, having weathered the day. Now, is n t that a lucid 
 story ? Don t you like it ? It s just what I did, anyway, 
 and is n t a bad drill for the inexperience of a headachy 
 major. I got home soon after two, having had a hard day 
 for a regiment so much pulled down as ours. I put in sev 
 eral good words for us with the Brigadier, and I am in hopes 
 to whiskey and quinine, or, better still, to transport our regi 
 ment into its old health and vigor. But certain it is, that 
 hard work, exposure, and Potomac damp have wrought their 
 perfect work, and we need a change, as the saying is. 
 Besides, there is this constant picket duty on the river, 
 watching through damp nights for enemies that have n t a 
 purpose of coming. It is the hardest kind of duty, and the 
 most useless, or rather the least obviously useful, and the 
 least exhilarating. I was reading, this morning, an order 
 from head-quarters about amputations. Pshaw ! I ex 
 claimed, to the edification of our surgeon. If they want 
 to be practically useful, let them pronouncfe about diarrhoea 
 and chills : there are no amputations in civil war. With 
 such dismal pleasantries we relieve the depression of our 
 sinking spirits. But I have the pleasure to know, or to 
 feel sure, that we are only harvesting now the crop of an 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 151 
 
 early sowing, and that things grow better. I am very well 
 again this evening. Colonel Andrews now grows obviously 
 better. The Adjutant will go to a house to-morrow for 
 two or three days rest, and I am inclined to hope that 
 things have just got to their worst with us. 
 
 " Perhaps I am giving you an over-dark view. Don t let 
 your imagination run away with it. We are only debili 
 tated, that s all. Nothing dangerous, but annoying. I am 
 only thankful that I am so well, and only troubled that 
 there is so little I can do for the regiment. 
 
 " Send us your warm clothes as fast as they are ready in 
 respectable quantities 
 
 " Tell father I join in his hurrahs, except that I caution 
 him to wait for exploit and achievement before he congratu 
 lates his boys, or canonizes their mother on their account. 
 It is very humdrum duty they are doing now. It asks only 
 willingness and endeavor, a good, earnest disposition. 
 If it shall turn out that they can have strength for better 
 things by and by, sha ii t I be glad ! To-day I am only tran 
 quil and hopeful. Our Thanksgiving day will be a great 
 success. I fancy nearly a hundred turkeys : a great many 
 geese and chickens will smoke on. our mess-pans ! Then 
 the plum-puddings! Already the cooks are rehearsing that 
 delicacy in many forms, in anticipation of the grand and 
 decisive movement on Thursday. I think that thankfulness 
 of heart and generosity of good cheer will so exalt and in 
 spirit the regiment that we shall know no more depression or 
 invalidism. At all events, the preparation has a wholesome 
 cheerfulness in it. General Abercrombie to-day said, No 
 winter-quarters. This was direct from McClellan. He 
 also intimated that we may go South. That rumor seems to 
 gather and not fade, as most do. It has life in it still, and 
 perhaps it may bring itself to pass pretty soon. 
 
 " I am making a long story of my short experiences ; but 
 it is pleasant to write, and, but for a little consideration left 
 for you, I might write on for an hour. As it is, I will write 
 
152 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 an affectionate good-night, and go to bed. Before I go, 
 
 don t let me forget to admonish you to tell Mr. that 
 
 those drawers are as warm as the love of woman, and 
 as constant as the love of man. Tell him they are my hope 
 and faith in this great November tribulation. I will recol 
 lect him Thanksgiving day. 
 
 " We have a bright Wednesday morning. I find a chance 
 to send this by Lieutenant Choate, who goes home on a 
 short sick-leave, so I must c close up promptly. What a 
 joke the capture of Mason and Slidell is ! There is fun in 
 it. Whether there is, also, international law, or not, I don t 
 know. The luck seems really to have turned lately, and to 
 be going against rebels and traitors. I was very much 
 pleased to read Howard s letter. It looks as if he were 
 where he would have a good chance to make a soldier, and 
 to be an active one too. What an oddity this whole life 
 seems to me every now and then, when I think of it. 
 Changes and chances are very rapid. Verily, to be an 
 American is to be everything by turns, and nothing long. 
 
 " Speaking of nothing long, what do you think of this 
 letter ? The camp looks white and frosty from my tent, as 
 I look out this morning. I think I will go to breakfast and 
 warm up a little. As to my health, it seems firm again 
 to-day, and I have every reason for content. Love to all at- 
 home. 
 
 " P. S. I have reason to believe that the General was 
 quite well pleased with the review. That is a comfort, 
 under the circumstances." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR SENECA, November 20, 1861. 
 
 " I have just come in from a walk through the camp at 
 night. The cooks are busy over to-morrow s dinner. Picking 
 and dressing turkeys, and preparing the large, glowing ovens 
 for roasting. The irregularity is overlooked, in view of the 
 occasion. The preparations are so vast that the dinner will 
 be cooking nearly all night. I shall be able to give you the 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 153 
 
 statistics to-morrow. To-night I only know that it looks 
 as if an army were to be fed with turkey, and another one 
 with plum-pudding. The scene is a busy and gay one. I 
 have also been to see my sick charges. Incongruous scenes 
 for such close association ! but we happen to have both pic 
 tures at once in camp. Still, I think we grow better, and . 
 have only thankfulness and hope for to-morrow." 
 
 " Thursday, half past two o clock. 
 
 " Letter-writing after Thanksgiving dinner ! What an 
 absurdity ! Yet here goes. I must rise on the wings of 
 imagination, invoking also the exhilaration of champagne, 
 to give you a glance at our day. The morning rose red 
 and glorious. The camp was gay, and the men all jovial 
 and willing. Last evening I published an order reciting 
 the Governor s Thanksgiving order, and General Banks s 
 order, and telling the Second Massachusetts that Thanks 
 giving day would be observed and kept by the officers and 
 men of this regiment. There will be religious services at 
 ten o clock, to be followed by the usual Thanksgiving din 
 ner. It is hoped that the officers and men of the regiment 
 will unite in reviving all the memories and associations 
 which belong to the time-honored home festival of New 
 England, and in public thanksgiving and praise for all the 
 blessings which have followed them since they left the homes 
 which this festival recalls. 
 
 " Such was my programme. At ten o clock the sun was 
 bright, and the morning like summer. We had a service. 
 The reading of the Proclamation, the singing of praise by a 
 full, deep-toned choir, a jubilant, patriotic awakening, exhor 
 tation from our chaplain, then a gay march by the band, 
 which followed the benediction, hastened the steps of the 
 companies as they returned to their quarters. I then im 
 mediately got into the saddle and rode off to see the Adju 
 tant and Captains Savage and Mudge, whom I sent yesterday 
 to the hospitable shelter of houses up at Darnestown. Found 
 
154 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 them all well and happy, and recovering. Came back, vis 
 ited the kitchens. Turkeys and plum-pudding smoked and 
 fragranced from them. Tables were built by some of the 
 companies. A New England turkey-shooting was going on. 
 Companies B and C bore off the crown of victory and the 
 turkeys. I then went over to Colonel Andrews. Then I 
 came back to half an hour s business, and so to dinner. A 
 brisk, appetizing morning. But before I speak of our own 
 dinner, let me give you the statistics, the startling statistics 
 of our regimental dinner. Hear it : 
 
 Turkeys. Geese. Chickens. Plum-Puddings. 
 
 95 IQi Ibs. 76 81 Ibs. 73 95 
 
 Weight 997^ Ibs. 646 Ibs. 164| Ibs. 1179 Ibs. 
 
 " In other words, about half a ton of turkey, nearly as 
 much goose and chicken, and more than half a ton of plum- 
 pudding. There s richness, as Mr. Squeers would say. 
 The statement shows at once, presumed digestion, appetite, 
 and courage. It is hopeful, or will it prove the rashness 
 of despair ? But then our own dinner, included in this 
 general statement, was as follows : 
 
 " A twenty-pound turkey, etc., and a vast plum-pudding, 
 and no end of apple-pies, etc. I ought to add, that many 
 of the companies had their nuts and raisins and apples. 
 What luxury ! We sat down, a small party, the Chap 
 lain, the Doctor, the Chaplain of the Twelfth, and myself. 
 Tony, or Antonio Olivadoes, our ambitious and clever 
 cook, was radiant over the fire. He had spent most of the 
 night in culinary constancy to his puddings and pies. He 
 invoked attention to his turkey. i Well now, Major, con- 
 siderin the want o conveniences and fixins, I think it 11 
 taste kind o good ; and so it did. I opened a bottle of 
 champagne, a present, and gave my toast, Luck and ab 
 sent friends. So we drank it, and it cheered our somewhat 
 narrow circle. The men are now playing ball, and it will 
 not be long before dress-parade and company duty will re 
 place our Thanksgiving sensations. Never mind, we ve had 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 155 
 
 a good time, and a good time under a few difficulties, which, 
 I think, only sweetened our pleasure. Such is our Thanks 
 giving chronicle. I like to sit and fancy your home dinner, 
 and to preside, in imagination, over the boiled turkey at the 
 foot of the table. I hope our next Thanksgiving we may be 
 all together ; but if not, at least we can hope to be all as 
 thankful as now. Tony, the cook, just puts his head into my 
 tent, with conscious achievement in his eye : Well, Major 
 how you like de dinner ? I was up all night, five min 
 utes chopping wood, five minutes cooking, I did hope it 
 would be nice. I have just tickled his vanity, and he 
 goes. 
 
 " I think I may have a letter from you to-night, but this 
 goes by the mail now. God bless you all at home, and 
 good by." 
 
 " HEAD-QUARTERS SECOND MASSACHUSETTS REGIMENT, 
 Camp near Seneca, Nov. 23, 1861, Saturday Evening. 
 
 " Yours of the 19th is in my pocket. The evening has 
 passed pleasantly under its influence. The camp is fast 
 falling asleep. 
 
 " I last wrote you just after dinner on Thanksgiving 
 day. The rest of the day went glibly enough. In the 
 evening the men had a brisk dance to the music of the 
 band, and the next morning there were fewer sick men than 
 for two weeks before. Gladness and gayety are good medi 
 cines. Friday was a very busy day with me. Among its 
 morning incidents was a visit to Generals Hamilton and Wil 
 liams. General Williams quite won my affection by saying, 
 apropos of the review, < The Massachusetts Second is the best 
 volunteer regiment in the service. i A man of sense, was 
 my echo. Our two new lieutenants, Grafton and Shelton, 
 appeared yesterday, and were assigned to duty the next day. 
 They were eager for duty, and promise well. Give Charley 
 the stockings for his men by all means. I rejoice in his 
 effort and success. I am amused to see that the London 
 Times compares Ball s Bluff to Braddock s defeat. That 
 
156 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 was my first exclamation. A regular Braddock s defeat ! 
 Who was the Braddock ? . . . . 
 
 "I do not expect to come home at all. While there is 
 anything to do here, I certainly shall not come. Indeed, I 
 do not think I desire it. Three years or the war, was my 
 enlistment ; and I am willing to stay with my regiment while 
 it lasts 
 
 This morning s inspection took about two hours. It was 
 a thorough one and satisfactory. We have church this 
 afternoon, unless it rains, as it threatens to do. 
 
 " For one, I have no sympathy with the prisoners at Fort 
 Warren. I desire that all benevolence and sympathy may 
 flow to our loyal soldiers, whose hardship is quite as great. 
 As for Mason and Slidell, the joke is so good, so practical, so 
 retributive. I admire tho calm irony with which Mr. Ev 
 erett wishes them a short residence at Fort Warren. That 
 is clever and bright, and politely severe 
 
 I predicted church when I was writing this morning. Lo 
 it is evening, and the ground white with snoiv ! So winter 
 steals upon us, and we have a snow-storm instead of divine 
 service. Well, camp life has its variety, and is not al 
 ways same. I confess, as I look out through the flapping 
 door of my tent, I think it looks as little like invading the 
 South as any scene I ever looked on. White and heavy falls 
 the snow, I hope on the unjust as well as the just, on both 
 sides the Potomac ! Now s the time for mittens with no 
 
 holes in the thumbs I have quite a long letter from 
 
 . She is full of the glory and spectacle aspect of the 
 
 army and the war, her visit to Washington having taught 
 her all about armies. I could give her a few practical les 
 sons that would unidealize her abruptly. Never mind, to 
 be illusions e is to be happy. 
 
 " I hope, in view of the dread you express of my going 
 to Charleston, where they fight . without giving quarter, 
 you will be pleased at the imminent prospect there seems to 
 be that we shall be snowed into Maryland till spring. How- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 157 
 
 ever, the weather is so fickle, we may have bright sunshine 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " Monday Morning. 
 
 " Bright and cold. The snow, a thin coating, lay crisp 
 and cold on the ground this morning. The air glistened ; 
 my fingers grow numb as I write about it. Our week com 
 mences." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR SENECA, November 26, 1861. 
 
 " If you are to have another letter from a major com 
 manding, I suppose it had better be written to-night. To 
 morrow, I feel sure, will bring back Colonel Gordon, and 
 I shall very gladly shift that burden to his shoulders. There 
 are some objections to holding the reins, very long, of power 
 that you are not to continue in the exercise of ; and, though 
 I must say the Colonel has got a very easily managed regi 
 ment, and I have had no difficulty in my path, yet the 
 temptation to mould things to your own will is a strong one, 
 not to be indulged in temporary command. On the whole, 
 this is probably better for the regiment, it is certainly 
 safer for me. The month of November, though we have 
 spent it quietly in camp, has been the most trying one to 
 the regiment in its whole history. I am glad to be able 
 to persuade myself that we stand firmer than we did three 
 weeks since. I hope we shall steadily improve. There is 
 a hopeless desperation chilling one when engaged in a con 
 test with disease. The unseen malaria has such an advan 
 tage in the fight. I had rather meet anything for the 
 regiment than the enemy who surprised us in our former 
 camping-ground, and who seems hardly yet to have given 
 up beat. Two weeks ago I had something as much like 
 depression as I ever allow myself the indulgence of. Now 
 I feel quite glad again. This afternoon, for example, a blue, 
 overcast November sky, but a keen, bracing air, we had a 
 lively battalion drill, which went quite well. The regiment 
 turned out full companies, and, altogether, looked its old 
 self There, I was just in the midst of this last exul- 
 
158 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 tant sentence, when what should happen but a knock at my 
 tent. Enter Captain . Major, two men of my com 
 pany are very sick in quarters, and ought to be in hospital, 
 but there is not room. Well, sir, I can t make room. 
 Then the same complaint from another captain. I send for 
 the Doctor. He is abed, having been sick for the past three 
 days. I send for the Assistant Surgeon. He says, Yes, it 
 is so ; but the Brigade Surgeon promises a tent soon. The 
 measles cases have increased within two days/ 
 
 " I require from him a report of every case in quarters, 
 and a statement of how many sick men ought to be in hos 
 pital. This is the nature of the work to be done. To make 
 bricks without straw. Our sick officers have not yet re 
 turned to duty. The Adjutant is still away. I have to look 
 after everything myself. Still, I do insist that we are get 
 ting better. A week on a high piece of ground three miles 
 from the river would put us all on our feet again. But as 
 long as the morning sun rises only to quicken the fatal 
 exhalations from this pestilent Potomac, and the evening 
 dews fall only to rise again with fever in their breath, the 
 contest is unequal and the victory uncertain. "Well, we 
 can only hope for better things, and be thankful for what 
 we have. You will see, however, that the constant main 
 tenance of military efficiency under all these circumstances 
 exacts constant effort. I rejoice in continued health and 
 increasing strength, and am thankful and happy. I think, 
 too, that our experience will be a sort of seasoning. One 
 thing is certain, we cannot have the measles again ! 
 
 " I have just come in from my nightly round through the 
 camp ; and, as taps have sounded, all is quiet. I sit alone 
 in my tent a-thinkin o nothin at all, and writing about 
 it, too. Yes, I can tell you about our domestic arrange 
 ments, I mean our mess. 
 
 " We have intruded upon an elderly lady who lives near 
 our lines. She has given us her parlor and the use of her 
 cooking-stove. Tony is in great feather. He rejoices in all 
 kinds of culinary eccentricities. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 159 
 
 " The old lady, meantime, is repaid by our protection. 
 She confides to me her griefs for the losses of fence-rails 
 and cabbages, of pigs and poultry. This happened when 
 a former regiment was here. Now she is safe. Tony and 
 she observe an armed neutrality over the common cooking- 
 stove. This evening she told us the history of Jack Cross, 
 the husband of the lady who owns the house where Colonel 
 Andrews is sick. Jack is in prison at Fort Warren per 
 haps as a traitor. The good lady described his capture. 
 Said she : The officers came to me, and says they, " Do 
 you know of Jack Cross s hanging or shooting any one ? " 
 " As for shooting," says I, " I ve known him from a boy, 
 and a more peaceable man I never knew ; and as for hang 
 ing," says I, " I never knew him to hang anything except 
 a big black dog." Which was true, indeed, and I recollect 
 how the dog looked, and he most frightened me to death. 
 But they took him. He was an unfortunate man, but he 
 was a good neighbor ; and a good neighbor can t be a bad 
 man. But this business has got him into trouble ; but I 
 can t seem to understand it nohow. I m for the Union 
 and peace before I die. I think she would have talked till 
 now, had we not left the table, her ideas running in a 
 beaten track of puzzlement and dread. She evidently does 
 not either understand or enjoy civil war. 
 
 " I said our camp was still. I ought to admit that the 
 night is full of echoes with the barking cough that prevails, 
 
 an unwholesome sound. Good night, and God bless you 
 all at home." 
 
 " CAMP NEAR SENECA, November 29, 1861, 
 Friday Evening. 
 
 " T is a misty, moisty morning, and cloudy is the weather, 
 
 a hunting morning, with no game, however. Mr. Motley 
 and Frank and Mr. Robeson will tempt Providence and trust 
 the rebel highway soon on their way to Washington. I 
 must send you a line by them. As I hoped, and wrote, 
 Wednesday afternoon brought the Colonel and his party. I 
 
160 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 was sorry that our bright, clear weather lowered just before 
 their arrival ; and cheerlessness overspread the camp at 
 nightfall, when they arrived. It was pleasant to see them. 
 Their visit has been an agreeable one to us, though prob 
 ably not full of exciting pleasure to them. I have got both 
 your letters, the one brought by Mr. Motley and the one 
 sent by you on Saturday. Your Thanksgiving was as I had 
 fancied it, and I am glad to get your bright and faithful 
 picture of it. You will have received, ere this, my account 
 of the steady improvement of the regiment. You will 
 know, too, that I am now in perfect health myself, and I 
 beg that you will put aside all anxiety on my account. As 
 for coming home, it is now out of the question. I cannot pre 
 tend to have felt anything of that stern joy which warriors 
 feel in foemen worthy of their steel, but I have a calm 
 content in the presence of hardship and discomfort, and in 
 resistance to those influences which assail the efficiency of 
 i the best regiment in the service. Again, I feel a satisfaction 
 in knowing that I am, and have always been, reported, ac 
 cording to military phrase, for duty on the morning regi 
 mental report ! Just at the moment when the duty ceases 
 to be pleasant, I do not wish to have that report changed. 
 I am aware that these are selfish reasons, and I know also 
 that it is quite likely things will go well enough without 
 me. But here I am, and here I stay, for the present. 
 Colonel Andrews will go on Monday, I hope. Besides, our 
 Examining Board has been waiting for me to be relieved 
 from command of the regiment to commence its sittings, 
 and so I could not get leave to go. Voild des diffieultes. 
 Mr. Motley can assure you of my perfect health. Indeed, I 
 do not think it would improve it to run home. It would 
 certainly change my settled feeling into an unsettled one, 
 and so, again, the consequence follows. I think that, to go 
 
 to a Thanksgiving party at Mrs. s, and have a chat 
 
 with Mrs. , or to dine with and his wife, or to see 
 
 another pretty Miss , or to bid C good by as he 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 161 
 
 starts out, a gay cavalier, to escort his cousin to the dance, 
 or to sit in the parlor of an evening at home, would be 
 fragrant flowers of delight ; but then, how soon they would 
 fade, and what a withered nosegay should I bring back to 
 camp with me ! 
 
 " But I also feel that it would be a galling irritant to go 
 home. The Colonel says you are not awake to the war in 
 Boston. Tameness, irresolution, pity for political prison 
 ers, that is, traitors and felons, talk of restoration by 
 concession, pratings of a speedy advance on the Potomac, 
 unmilitary plans for military movements, etc., etc. I have 
 got anything but a pleasant picture of the tone of things at 
 home. Upon my word, I think it would have a bad effect 
 upon the equanimity which I cultivate and desire, to go 
 about much at home. When events, whose progress and 
 logic are unanswerable and persistent, have unravelled the 
 tangled web of your mystification, and taught the good Bos 
 ton people all about war, then, perhaps, it will be safe for 
 one intent on its prosecution and longing for its results to 
 breathe the enervating airs of your placid paradise. Till 
 then, my voice is still for war. Everything here seems to 
 be going pretty well. Camp life has no changes and few 
 incidents to amuse you." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR SENECA, November 30, 1861. 
 
 " If anything were needed to assure my decision regarding 
 a visit home, it could be found in the experience of the past 
 two days. Yesterday a rainy day, by the way I was 
 fully occupied with questions relating to the sick, and, in 
 the afternoon, by a session of the Board of Claims. To-day, 
 field-officer of the day. It has been a bright, windy, drying 
 day, for which we are thankful. A tardy wisdom has at 
 length decided to remove the division of General Banks 
 from its present grotesque position to the neighborhood of 
 Frederick City. Within easy distance, by rail, of Harper s 
 Ferry, of Baltimore, and Washington, the division will there 
 11 
 
162 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 be promptly available for any purpose. It will be placed in 
 a more healthy position. It will be within reach of sup 
 plies. It will be so far permanent that it can make itself 
 comfortable for a season. How it will get there is quite 
 another question. The rains of the past week have made 
 the roads almost impassable ; and to move a whole division, 
 with its immense trains, a distance of thirty miles, over 
 swollen watercourses and worn-out roads, seems a hopeless 
 undertaking. We probably commence the attempt Tuesday 
 morning. It is certainly a move in the right direction, and 
 seems, to my narrow horizon, made a month too late. 
 
 " To-day a part of our sick have been sent off to the 
 General Hospital at Baltimore. Preparations were made 
 yesterday by the Medical Director to send the worst cases 
 from the whole division. 
 
 " The order to move the sick down to the canal to take 
 the boat came early this morning. At ten o clock they were 
 moving ; and at five o clock this afternoon the boat was 
 ready for them. The whole day they waited two hun 
 dred sick men, in wagons and in discomfort on the banks 
 of the canal. The sight was most irritating this afternoon 
 when I rode down there. 
 
 " Just at nightfall they were huddled in, one hundred 
 and fifty men to one canal-boat, the rest sent back for want 
 of room, and the boat moved off. Wretched mismanage 
 ment, and I fear great suffering as its fruit. 
 
 " In fact, the whole hospital system is a blunder, if not a 
 crime. It wants entire reorganization. There should be 
 no regimental hospitals. What can a regiment do, drag 
 ging sick men after it ? How can a regiment, with its hos 
 pital tent, take proper care of them ? 
 
 " The proper system would be to have hospitals attached 
 to divisions, all the sick, except trivial cases, sent there, and 
 treated by surgeons who have only that to do. Then the 
 regiment would be free from its greatest embarrassment in 
 the field. Then the sick would not die, as I have seen 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OP WILDER D WIGHT. 163 
 
 them do, for mere want of warmth, rest, and nursing. As 
 a matter of organization and unity, as an administrative 
 question, it seems as clear as sunlight ; but we work along 
 in a system that did well enough for an army of fifteen 
 thousand men scattered in barracks and garrisons in time 
 of peace, but is utterly inapplicable to a vast army in the 
 field. To-day s blundering movement was, however, bad 
 management, even according to this false system. It stirs 
 one up to see it. But I won t preach on this text any 
 more. 
 
 " I hope the war will last long enough to give us an army 
 organized according to all the wisdom and experience of 
 other nations, and carefully adapted to our own wants. 
 What a splendid creation such an army would be ! In fact, 
 how plain it is, to any one who watches the progress of things 
 out here, that a soldier is an artificial mechanism, that an 
 army is still more so, that for a nation to neglect the art 
 which produces its army is the same thing as for a man to 
 reject the exercises and discipline which promote his vigor. 
 Well, perhaps we shall grow wiser as we grow older ; per 
 haps we shall blunder in some other direction. 
 
 " I am in hopes to get Colonel Andrews off to-day or to 
 morrow, in canal-boat, to Washington. This last sentence 
 is written Sunday morning, the rest being Saturday-night 
 reflections. The day is a dark and threatening one. We 
 shall have a fine march to Frederick ! 
 
 " I am very well indeed, and there is no news with us. 
 Love to all." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR SENECA, December 2, 1861, 
 
 Monday Night. 
 
 " There is no reason why I should write, except that Colo 
 nel Andrews is going, and can take the letter. It is a 
 harsh, cloudy, wind-driven night; and we have detained the 
 canal-boat till morning. We are waiting our orders to 
 march to Frederick. It looks like snow, and altogether 
 there is a cheerful prospect of a march before us ! I expect 
 to awake in a snow-storm. 
 
164 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 " I am awaiting, with some interest, the President s Mes 
 sage. I shall like to see how he will pronounce a policy. 
 One thing seems to me to be clear. He must leave all 
 political questions to a military solution and settlement. 
 Congress must do the same. 
 
 " There is a method in events which must result, I think, 
 in a wise and practical solution of the negro question. 
 
 " You recollect the cloister life of the Emperor Charles 
 the Fifth, the abrupt transition of the proud king from 
 a vast and absolute sway to the solitude and asceticism and 
 self-mortification of the cloister. I want to read the clois 
 ter life of King Cotton, his exile, poverty, and penance. 
 There will be a story of most instructive contrast. It is 
 a story soon to be written. I wonder, too, how Congress 
 will bear our inactivity this winter. Clear it is that we 
 must be inactive. The mere movement of a division, with 
 its artillery and supply-train and baggage, is a distinct 
 teaching that active field operations are impossible before 
 spring, on this line. So you may continue to think of 
 me as perfectly safe, and as hoping for liveliness with the 
 buds of spring. We shall have tried almost every phase of 
 
 army experience before we get home, I fancy I shall 
 
 be an early riser to-morrow morning, and so must bid you 
 good night." 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 165 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 LETTERS FROM CAMP HICKS, NEAR FREDERICK. 
 
 "CAMP NEAR FREDERICK, December 6, 1861. 
 
 " 4 LL well. Had a glorious march to Frederick, and 
 J[\_ have a perfect camping-ground. Will write as soon 
 as I get to rights." 
 
 " CAMP HICKS, NEAR FREDERICK, December 7, 1861. 
 
 " When I scribbled a hasty note to send by Colonel An 
 drews, I was looking grimly forward to a snow-storm. That 
 foreboding was premature. In its place, I might have in 
 dulged midnight orders to march, and a winter s morning 
 to start in. On Monday night, at eleven, our quiet camp 
 near Seneca was invaded by a mounted orderly, who brought 
 orders for an early start. The night was given to prepara 
 tion. Colonel Andrews was to go off in a canal-boat at six 
 in the morning. I had planned to escort him. Instead of 
 this, I was obliged to content myself with a hasty good-by 
 at the house, and a careful packing of him and his wife in 
 the hospital wagon, and starting them for the canal. How 
 cold it was ! At last we started in good order. The morn 
 ing was so cold that horseback was penance. I marched on 
 foot, leading my horse. We went, by a new road, toward 
 Frederick. The cold that nipped our ears stiffened the 
 mud, and our path was made easy. A brisk march of 
 seventeen miles brought us to Barnesville, just under the 
 Sugar-Loaf Mountain. The latter part of the way hung 
 heavy on the legs of the men, and they straggled badly. So 
 at evening in the village, whither we went supper-hunting, 
 
 we found some officers of the Massachusetts boasting 
 
 of the fine marching condition of their men, and alluding to 
 
166 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 our stragglers. This piqued us. We were assigned the 
 advance, the next day, unless, as General Abercrombie said, 
 some other regiment gets started first ! 
 
 " I should like to describe our camp at Barnesville. It 
 was on a wooded ridge. The night was intensely cold. 
 Colonel Gordon and I shared a tent, and we put up his 
 stove. The men had good fires. The scene was wintry, 
 and the experience was harsh. The order was issued, Re 
 veille at half past four ! ! The men got to bed early. At 
 half past four came the rattle of get up. Our candle was 
 relighted, our stove glowed again, a big fire crackled before 
 the tent, our hastily built straw-bed aided the flames, but 
 the weather kept the keen edge on. We breakfasted on 
 some coffee borrowed from one of the company kitchens, 
 and some bread and cold chicken, frozen chickens. Soon 
 after half past six the men were all breakfasted, the wagons 
 ready, the line formed. At quarter to seven we were out 
 on the road started. The sun was just showing an inten 
 tion to rise. The Colonel and I walked. He led off at a 
 smacking pace. Our rear-guard was made up of picked 
 men under Lieutenant Sawyer, an energetic officer. There 
 could be no stragglers. On we went over a mountain road, 
 on, on, on ! The sun came up. It even began to melt the 
 ice a little : still we marched on, till we had made between 
 ten and eleven miles without a halt ! A short rest was all 
 the impatience of the Colonel would allow. Onward again. 
 General Abercrombie here overtook us. Great marching, 
 said he. 4 1 thought you had missed the road. He had 
 no idea we could so get the start of him. On along the 
 bank of the Monocacy, on across the river and the 
 railroad. 
 
 " The cars were just coming in. Hallo, says one soldier 
 to another ; what s that ? 
 
 " I don t know, it s so long since I ve seen it, believe 
 it s a steam-engine. The steam- whistle screeched. 
 
 We halt just outside Frederick at about eleven o clock. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 167 
 
 Fourteen miles with knapsacks in four hours and a quarter ! 
 Beat that if you can, over a mountain road. 
 
 " The Colonel formed the line in a grove, and the men 
 rested. We awaited orders. But we were so early that the 
 
 orders were not ready. Two or three hours after, the 
 
 Regiment came along with thin ranks. The Colonel had 
 
 told our regiment, before starting, that the boasted 
 
 they marched better than the Second. It was that emula 
 tion which made us march so well. Now the men enjoyed 
 their victory, and chaffed the late regiment. i Tell your 
 colonel, says one, i that we 11 lend him some of our wagons 
 to help him along, <fec., &c. I -marched the whole distance 
 and felt finely. So you may know I am well. We went 
 into camp, after recrossing the Monocacy. Another cold 
 night. 
 
 " The next morning, just as the regiment was ready to 
 start on its march to its present permanent camping-ground, 
 we were sitting about the fire on a hillside overlooking our 
 
 camp, when up came R . I was delighted to see him, 
 
 and to hear from home. He made only a short call on us, 
 and left for Frederick just as we started for our new camp. 
 It was Thursday morning. We marched round to the 
 southwesterly part of the city, and struck the Baltimore 
 turnpike. Our camp site was on a wooded slope facing the 
 south and the sunshine. The latter is pouring into my tent 
 as I write, this fine Sunday morning. We were soon busy 
 getting into camp. I have been up to Frederick twice. 
 The first time I went to General Banks s head-quarters, and 
 happened to be invited in at General Shriver s, the Union 
 man of Frederick. I found myself in a parlor, talking to a 
 young lady ! What a transition ! 
 
 " Frederick is a fine old town. Our band-leader already 
 talks of giving concerts there. Our thoughts are all turn 
 ing on peace and quietness. 
 
 " The principal duty will be keeping the men in order, 
 and preventing drunkenness. Yesterday, as field-officer of 
 
168 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT, 
 
 the day, I was very busy at it. But had you seen our Sun 
 day morning inspection, you would have seen order, neat 
 ness, and system transplanted with no check of growth. 
 Opinions may vary of Colonel Gordon, but his administrative 
 success is testimony enough in his favor. I wish you could 
 see our camp. Perhaps you will one of these days. We 
 have had glorious weather since the cold abated. It is In 
 dian summer. At last I have actually caught that evanes 
 cent and supposititious season. We have had the Presi 
 dent s Message and all the reports 
 
 " I hope there will be no hasty and ill-considered legisla 
 tion about the army. The volunteer force, as it stands, 
 ought not to be put on the same footing as regulars. A 
 hasty, extempore, uneducated army made permanent, 
 what folly ! 
 
 "CAMP HICKS, December 9, 1861, near Frederick, Maryland. 
 
 " To sit in one s tent in the sunshine, and look out through 
 the grove upon a lively and contented camp, is very little 
 like war. Such is my afternoon s occupation, or want of 
 occupation. I can hear, too, the music of the Star Spangled 
 Banner, which is just now saluting the flag which has been 
 raised at General Abercrombie s head-quarters near by. 
 
 " I went into Frederick this morning, and, as I came over 
 the hill which slopes down to the Monocacy Bridge and over 
 looks the city and valley of Frederick, I could not but enjoy 
 the scene. There lay the city, with its spires and buildings 
 clear in the sunlight ; and the whole surrounding valley 
 looked happy with its bright, white farm-houses, and thrifty 
 with its generous barns. 
 
 " Peace and plenty were in the landscape. Yet, six 
 months ago, both were threatened by the terrorism of Seces 
 sion, and the growing crops then feared a premature har 
 vesting. 
 
 " I called, this morning, on the Rev. Mr. , a pleas 
 ant man. He was cordial and friendly, and wished me to 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 169 
 
 tell Dr. that his present successor at Frederick was 
 
 true to the flag, and loved his country. The experiences 
 of the past summer have tested his patriotism severely. I 
 
 also receive this evening by mail a note from Mrs. , 
 
 who is in Baltimore. She writes to ask my intervention to 
 protect her house, which has been occupied for military 
 purposes. I shall do what I can for her, but the plea of 
 necessity is one that knows no law and very little mercy. 
 To-night also brings me what I rejoice in, two letters from 
 
 you, one from D , and a most friendly and agreeable 
 
 letter from Mr. . I could not resist an immediate an 
 swer to the latter, it gave me so much pleasure 
 
 " It has been as warm as summer here to-day, indeed, 
 most uncomfortably so. But, of course, the change must 
 come soon, and winter will frown upon us again. 
 
 " Tell he is as right as a tract on the slavery ques 
 tion. Keep it back. Say nothing. Let the war continue 
 to be for the grand purpose which first inspired it, and 
 which has united and quickened a whole people. The in 
 evitable consequence must be the death-wound of slavery ; 
 4 but that is incidental, and must be natural, not forced. 
 
 " CAMP HICKS, December 11, 1861, near Frederick. 
 
 " I am building a house this morning. It is well for a 
 young man to get settled in life ; and to build house and 
 keep house may, in general, be stated as the sum of his 
 whole temporal endeavor. My own achievement in this 
 direction will be rapid and decisive. Four trees, as 
 scantling, a board floor on them, and a surrounding pen 
 four feet high, are now in progress. Over this pen my tent 
 will be pitched, and I can defy the storm. It is a structure 
 thought in the morning and acted before night. It is not 
 firmly fixed on earth, and so illustrates the frail tenure of 
 our hold on this sunny camp, again analogizing life itself. 
 It is also just the size for one. In this, perhaps, it is seri 
 ously defective, though, in a great part of the earnest en- 
 
170 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 deavor of life, it is not bad for man to be alone. At all 
 events, no military authority indicates a wife as a part of 
 camp equipage. I have called my immediate business 
 housekeeping. Let it not be thought that a regiment is 
 without its domestic cares. They are manifold. To make 
 the cook and the steward harmonize is more difficult than 
 to form the battalion in line of battle. I should like much 
 to greet you in my new house, and have a family party at 
 the house-warming. 
 
 " We are moving, too, the question of a stable for one 
 hundred wagon-horses. It is a question that will settle 
 itself shortly. We procrastinate it naturally through this 
 warm weather; but the cold will soon snap us up again, 
 and then we shall go to work at it. But this uncertainty 
 of the future, which every rumor aggravates, does not favor 
 preparation. Political economists, you know, tell us that a 
 secure confidence in the quiet enjoyment of the fruits of 
 industry is a condition of all industrial development, and 
 without it there is no wealth. We are illustrating that 
 maxim. No winter quarters, says McClellan. i Onward ! 
 howl the politicians. You must not draw lumber or 
 boards, echoes the quartermaster. Such is our dilemma. 
 I am attempting both horns by my extempore device of half 
 house, half tent. 
 
 " I did not finish my house yesterday, but this (Thursday) 
 evening I am writing at my new table in my new house. 
 It is perfectly jolly. I take great pride in my several ingen 
 ious devices for bed, washstand, front door (a sliding door), 
 &c., &c. I had four carpenters detailed from the regiment. 
 They gradually got interested in the work, and wrought 
 upon it with love. The dimensions are nine feet square, 
 and the tent just stretches down square over it. 
 
 " My little stove is humming on the hearth as blithely as 
 possible. I received last night your pleasant letter of Mon 
 day, the first which has come direct to Frederick. This 
 gives cheerful assurance of a prompt mail 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 171 
 
 " So will be settled before Christmas. He is to be 
 
 congratulated. He has opened for himself a large sphere 
 of duty and usefulness. This is enough to kindle the 
 endeavor and invigorate the confidence, and so he is fortu 
 nate 
 
 "We have had the development, since our arrival here, 
 of one of those little tragedies that thrill a man with pain. 
 A young man, who came out as a new recruit with Captain 
 Abbott to our unlucky camp at Seneca, was down, low down, 
 with typhoid fever when we were ready to march. Our 
 surgeon decided it unsafe to move him, and so he was left 
 in the temporary hospital at Darnestown, in charge of the 
 surgeon there. After we left, the brigade surgeon of the 
 
 brigade decided to move the hospital at once ; packed 
 
 the poor boy, mercilessly, into a canal-boat with the rest ; 
 took him up to Point of Rocks, and thence by rail to Fred 
 erick ; spent nearly thirty-six hours on the way, distance 
 thirty miles. When the boy arrived here he was almost 
 gone. Neglect, exposure, disease, had worked their perfect 
 work. 
 
 " It is said, and I see no reason to doubt the statement, 
 that his feet were frozen when he was taken from the cars ! 
 He died soon after his arrival. You may have seen that 
 the newspapers have got hold of that disgraceful blundering 
 in transporting the sick to Washington. I must have spoken 
 of it in a former letter. 
 
 " I consider the Medical Director guilty of the death of 
 our young soldier just as much as if he had deliberately left 
 him alone to starve. 
 
 " It is such incidents as this that expose the inefficiency 
 of our whole hospital organization. Alas ! almost every 
 department is equally listless and incapable. But the suf 
 ferings of the sick soldier appeal more directly to the heart 
 than other shortcomings. 
 
 " Since we have been in camp here we have had a court- 
 martial vigorously at work punishing all the peccadilloes of 
 
172 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. 
 
 the march, and the indiscretions consequent upon a sudden 
 exposure to the temptations of civilization and enlighten 
 ment, to wit, whiskey. 
 
 " In my tour of duty yesterday, as field-officer of the day, 
 I found that one of the guard posted in the village of New 
 market had stopped a pedler s cart, -and seized a quantity 
 of whiskey intended to sell to soldiers. The pedler was 
 quite ingenious. He packed first a layer of pies, then a 
 layer of whiskey-bottles, and so on. His barrel looked as 
 innocent as a sucking dove on top, but was full of the 
 sucking serpent within. I ordered him to be taken out in 
 the middle of the main street, to have his hat taken off, his 
 offence proclaimed to the people, and the whiskey de 
 stroyed. It was quite an effective, and, I hope, terror- 
 striking penalty 
 
 " It is now Friday morning, bright, but cool. This fine 
 weather is happiness in itself. 
 
 "CAMP HICKS, NEAR FREDERICK, December 15, 1861. 
 
 " Another bright, sunny Sunday ; the regiment growing 
 in grace, favor, and winter quarters. The band has got its 
 new instruments, and has been piping melodiously in the 
 moonlight this evening. The instruments are very fine 
 indeed 
 
 " To-morrow morning our brigade is to be reviewed by 
 
 General . Napoleon, as the newspapers are fond of 
 
 saying, used to precede his great battles and important 
 movements by grand reviews. General is not Napo 
 leon. Vbild tout. 
 
 " The Colonel, since we got into this new camp, has been 
 doing a good deal of rampaging, and with excellent effect. 
 I think I never saw the regiment in better condition. The 
 relaxed discipline consequent on sickness and the march 
 has recovered its tone completely. We have had a court- 
 martial sitting for several days, and the men have been 
 very generally and impartially punished in their pay. This 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 173 
 
 is good economy for the government, and a sharp lesson for 
 the men. Each of the divisional departments the com 
 missary, the quartermaster, the medical are lame and 
 impotent. 
 
 " What do you say to the fact that, but for the activity 
 and outside zeal of our quartermaster, we should be in 
 rags ? 
 
 " The division takes no care of us ; we go to head-quarters 
 at Washington, and take care of ourselves. We go to 
 Washington ; but the theory and duty is, that everything 
 comes to us through the division department here. 
 
 " This has never been true, and, as I said, but for our 
 irregular and enterprising expeditions to Washington, there 
 is little we could get for ourselves. Again, what do you say 
 to the fact that to-day, but for the activity of officers outside 
 of the medical department, and but for their spending money 
 saved from other sources, our hospital tent would be floor- 
 less, storeless, and flung to the breeze ? Now, however, it 
 has a nice floor, good bunks, and a warm, cheerful stove ; 
 and, yesterday morning, at inspection, looked as neat and 
 comfortable as your parlor. No thanks, however, to the 
 medical men. The division medical director don t know 
 to-day that our typhoid-fever patients are not basking in 
 precarious sunshine on the bosom the cold, chaste bosom 
 of unnatural Mother Earth, after a sleepless night in the 
 pale shadows of the moon ! ! To be sure, he guesses that 
 the Second Massachusetts Regiment will take care of itself; 
 but while they are issuing stoves, &c., at Washington, we 
 are buying them for ourselves here. 
 
 " Again, a brisk little stove is humming in almost every 
 tent of the companies ; many of the tents are floored : all 
 this, however, with our own money, individual, regimental 
 enterprise, not divisional or departmental care. Such is 
 the picture we present. Add to this that all this outlay and 
 endeavor is adventured by us in the face of a blank uncer 
 tainty of the future, an utter darkness, an outer darkness, as 
 
174 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 to whether we are here for a day or for all time, and you 
 have a position that would arouse complaint, if we allowed 
 ourselves to grumble. We have no hint from head-quarters 
 to guide us. We have been here nearly two weeks : per 
 haps we shall get advice when we have finished our action. 
 Advice to act on is what we want. Head, control, direction, 
 will, organization, is what we miss. I speak only of the 
 sphere in which we move, of this department. It is a part 
 of McClellan s army, however, and, as such, is entitled to 
 better guidance. I do not put the fault on General Banks, 
 but on the crippled condition in which his staff and depart 
 ments are kept. Of this, however, I am not in a position 
 to be an observer or a judge. I can speak only of the re 
 sults which I see. There is no reason why I should harp 
 on this theme, however. We get on finely, only I like to 
 make it understood that we do so over obstacles. This is 
 natural, I suppose. 
 
 " When I hear, too, all this talk about a grand army/ 
 the splendid spectacle our country presents, <fcc., <fec., 
 i what a terror we should be to England, how ready we 
 are for war, I know that it is the nonsense of ignorance 
 that men are talking. Clear your mind of cant, says Dr. 
 Johnson. 
 
 " I have resumed this letter since last night, and must 
 now get ready for the review this bright Monday morning. 
 Have you read Colonel Harvey Brown s clear, manly, sensible 
 despatch from Fort Pickens ? his statement of results, 
 fruits of experience ripe and real. There is a modesty, di 
 rectness, absence of cant about it that stamp the man a 
 soldier fit for command. It is refreshing to read such 
 
 a statement, after General s vaunting return from Hat- 
 
 teras ; after such a telegram as that which chronicled Colonel 
 
 s braggadocio ride on a cannon from a smart little 
 
 skirmish near Harper s Perry, which is called a great vic 
 tory ; after the many magnificent records of routine exploits, 
 which surprise our volunteers into the foolish belief that 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. 175 
 
 they are sudden heroes ; after the constant record of the 
 
 movements of my friend , who is a first-rate fellow, and 
 
 doing a good work with too much noise about it. These 
 men seem to be all attempting a hasty plate of glory J as 
 Colonel Andrews calls it. The simple discharge of duty, 
 and then an intelligent attempt to learn a lesson, and do bet 
 ter next time. Let us hope for imitation of this Colonel 
 Brown of the regulars. But the Colonel puts his head into 
 my tent and says, Major, the line will be formed at twelve 
 o clock/ and so I must prepare for review. 
 
 Evening. 
 
 " There is something gay, inspiriting, exciting, in a fine 
 review. The brigade burnishes its equipments and perfects 
 its uniform. It also puts on its pride and its peacock feath 
 ers. All is elation and glorification. Now, though humility 
 is at once a grace and a virtue, its modest worth has no 
 place here. Humility never prepares for review, or pa 
 rades for inspection. But a regiment does both. So we 
 put on our gayest plumage of pride, with our hats and feath 
 ers and epaulettes : the band shone with its new instru 
 ments ; the sun vied with their splendor, perhaps aided it. 
 The drum-major s silver globe rivalled the orb that it multi 
 plied. Officers and men were ambitious, confident, elate. 
 We were the first brigade to be reviewed, after the others 
 who disported themselves last week, of course to surpass 
 them. I need not describe the ceremony. Everything 
 went well, except that my horse gave a plunge opposite the 
 General, and slightly disconcerted my salute ; but, as I say, 
 pride was at the helm, and on we went. The Second did 
 itself proud. I never saw it march with more steadiness, or 
 keep its line better. After the review a drill was ordered ; 
 and here our regiment proceeded to distinguish and empha 
 size itself. We had a brisk, rattling, double-quick drill, 
 and were the observed of all observers, and the praised of 
 all praisers ; so that when we came home to read our news 
 papers, and found that England was going to demand satis- 
 
176 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 faction and compel the surrender of the ambassadors, we 
 felt all ready for war with England. Still, I cannot believe 
 in all this bluster. 
 
 " The right of search and seizure is, on the weight of 
 authority, in our favor. But it is just one of those nice and 
 delicate questions that will affect the mind of the seizor dif 
 ferently from the seizee ; and, on the whole, seems to me a 
 right that ought not to be exercised except in a very tempt 
 ing case like this one. We must stand to our guns, and 
 England will back down. I hope Charleston has been burnt 
 by its own negroes. That would be a felicity of Divine 
 wrath that could not be surpassed. 
 
 " I have received notice from General Hamilton to begin 
 work on the Examining Board to-morrow (Tuesday), the 
 17th. This will keep me busy for the present ; but I expect 
 quite an amusing time, though perhaps a little monoto 
 nously so. I found your letters on my return from review ; 
 
 one from you, and one from Colonel Andrews We 
 
 want him back ; and the officers and men constantly ask for 
 him, and when he is coming. 
 
 " I have only time, this Tuesday morning, before going 
 into Frederick, to bid you good by. Love to all at home. 
 I wish I could hear from Howard." 
 
 "CAMP HICKS, NEAR FREDERICK, December 20, 1861. 
 
 " It was only the immediate pressure of another topic 
 that crowded out the mention of the arrival of the box of 
 shirts and drawers, &c., from Mrs. Ticknor. They were 
 equally distributed among the men needing them most. 
 They were most gladly welcomed. In size, shape, and sub 
 stance, they are all we could desire. The gay-colored hand 
 kerchiefs warmed the fancy of the men, and were eagerly 
 snatched at. The mittens, too, notwithstanding the fingei 
 deformity, were grasped by eager hands. I think it would 
 reward the effort of our friends if they could have seeii the 
 opening of the box, and the scattering of the clothing to 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 177 
 
 the companies. The eyes of the men chosen for the gifts 
 glistened, and the eyes of the others fell, as those of chil 
 dren. Indeed, in many respects, soldiers are like children ; 
 and the idea that there is a box from home with a present 
 in it is, you know, the crowning joy of childhood. There is 
 a certain flavor to these arrivals, of warmth and comfort, that 
 seems to dwell with peculiar relish on the mind. They 
 make a day glad and cheerful. But I must protest against 
 this form of soldier s mitten. Make a good, honest mitten, 
 in which there shall be no aristocracy or seclusion among 
 the fingers, but where they may dwell together in unity. 
 When the man is to use his gun he won t wear a mitten. 
 At other times he wants the old, warm mitten, not this 
 eccentric innovation. By this criticism I do not wish to 
 discourage the sending of mittens of this or any other shape. 
 We want those of any shape. I speak only in the interests 
 of science and truth. 
 
 " I wish you could have seen the regiment this evening at 
 parade. We got fresh white gloves for the men to-day ; 
 and the steady line, with its regular and precise movement, 
 the shining brass of the equipments, and general neatness, 
 was a fine sight. Our old uniforms, after all their service, 
 look better than most new ones. General Banks was pres 
 ent, and afterwards came up and admired my tent-house. 
 
 " My friend Colonel Geary has gone back to Point of 
 Rooks. General Hamilton is off to Williamsport, and the 
 Board will meet again some day next week. 
 
 " I enjoyed Colonel Geary s talk very much. He has 
 seen a good deal of rough life ; was a colonel during the 
 Mexican War, then a Californian, and the. last alcalde of 
 San Francisco, then a governor of Kansas. He speaks of 
 events of which he was himself no small part. 
 
 " Colonel , of the Sixteenth Indiana, is a character, 
 
 a tall, gaunt Western lawyer turned colonel. He has just 
 returned from a visit to Washington and his home. Speak 
 ing of the crowds of officers and soldiers who throng Penn- 
 12 
 
180 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 of taking good care of our army, and saving it up for spring. 
 Events are favoring us rapidly now of their own accord. 
 
 " The English question does not yet take shape enough 
 to enable one to judge of it. I have no fear of a war with 
 England. The cause is inadequate. The right of search 
 and seizure is one that I hope we shall exercise sparingly. 
 The game is not worth the candle. Still, I enjoy the joke 
 of the seizure of Slidell and Mason, and am curious to see 
 the ground of England s vigorous protest. England is base 
 and mean in her treatment of us ; and if we were only 
 stronger, I should enjoy a war with her. As it is, I sup 
 pose we must wait, like Dr. Winship, till we have trained a 
 couple of years, and then, perhaps, we shall be up to a 
 fight with her. 
 
 " It really seems, this evening, as if winter, Northern 
 winter, had come. If he visits Manassas as he does Fred 
 erick, how the Rebels must be shivering in their shoes, if, 
 indeed, they have any shoes to shiver in. 
 
 " Howard s position I rejoice in, I quite believe that he 
 will rise in his regiment and see service. I repeat my 
 thanks, and wish you Merry Christmas and Happy New 
 Year ! " 
 
 " CAMP HICKS, December 25, 1861, Christmas Morning. 
 
 " DEAR MOTHER, A merry Christmas, said I to myself, 
 for want of a larger family-circle, as I put my head out into 
 the morning while reveille was rousing the camp. And into 
 a brisk, crisp morning did I walk as I stepped from my 
 tent. The moon had not yet lost its flame, though the east 
 was warming to receive the coming sun. A light fall of 
 snow, sent by Heaven to gladden the day, had whitened 
 tents and ground alike. Soon the sun kindled it into a 
 Christmas glisten and sparkle. Yes, the scene was the 
 traditional holiday dress of the season. And now, as I sit 
 and write, my ears are full of the mellow music of Auld 
 Lang Syne from the band at guard-mounting. I believe I 
 am somewhat sensitive to the aspects and influences of air 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 181 
 
 and sky and landscape. This out-door life serves only to 
 quicken and confirm such tendency. I am always apt to 
 thank God for a fine day, through which everything is bright 
 and promising. And Nature having put on her gayest winter 
 merriment, I share her gladness. So I give you all at home 
 a Merry Christmas in this missive, and here s a health to 
 next Christmas with the ivar over. 
 
 " Yet, even on this merry morning, I have a shadow, 
 which, I hope, is a mere distemper of the fancy. It comes 
 from the sullen aspect of the English news. I start with 
 the faith which I cherish, that there can be no war with 
 England unless she is obstinately bent thereon. There is 
 no adequate cause. But all this preparation, all this arm 
 ing and bluster, really gives an air of probability to the 
 suggestion that she madly desires to seize the pretext and 
 provoke a contest. I do hope not ; for, with fair play, we 
 are sure, in the opening spring, of rapid, inspiriting, hon 
 orable success. Witness McCall s cleverly managed affair 
 at Drainsville. Its conception and execution alike skilful. 
 It contains proof, too, that our superior armament and 
 equipment will tell on every fair field 
 
 " The incidents of the last year have frightened me out 
 of what little tendency to prophecy I may have had ; but 
 nothing save this cloud from England could dispirit the 
 hope with which I look forward to our coming contest with 
 the Rebellion 
 
 " Will not our day come for a chance at the enemy ? 
 Again I hope. There is no news. I am busy about the 
 Examining Board ; I am assailed by several perplexities 
 within the regiment ; I am ennuied with inaction. But I 
 am well, and, on the whole, content. I am glad you should 
 have a visit from Colonel William. 
 
 " My sergeant says : I saw your brother, Colonel D wight, 
 at the office, sir ! He s a splendid officer, sir ! So echo I. 
 Love and good wishes to all." 
 
182 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 " CAMP HICKS, NEAR FREDERICK, December 29, 1861, 
 Sunday Evening. 
 
 " We are drinking the lees of the old year ! It is the 
 penitent reminiscent season: We may look back along the 
 furrow that our little individual ploughshare seems to us to 
 be making. Few of us, indeed, can see that the past retains 
 the mark of our labor. All of us, however, can whip up 
 our teams on New Year s morning, and open a new furrow 
 in a new field, or plough the same ground over again, with 
 new zeal. 
 
 " Such is the illusion of hope, and so glad are we to 
 postpone repentance another year. And, indeed, this bright 
 Sunday morning wins one hopeward. 
 
 " Since Christmas morning I have been busy with our 
 Examining Board. The work is amusing ; but it is also 
 pitiable to see what ignorance and incapacity are to be weeded 
 out of the army. 
 
 " Yesterday we had a visit in camp from Mr. and Mrs. 
 
 . You recollect charming Miss . Well, she shone 
 
 like a star upon our darkness. Her presence in my tent, 
 which she honored, has left a sort of halo which cheers 
 it still. The first glimpse of womanhood and loveliness I 
 have had for an age, as it seems. The past is so crowded 
 that it seems very distant. 
 
 " The Drainsville affair turns out, in the magnitude of 
 its consequences, a battle and a defeat. 
 
 " lo Triumphe ! ! McClellan promises Porter s division 
 an occasion, shortly, to show by fighting, as well as in re 
 views, that they are soldiers. This by his Christmas order. 
 Who knows but my house which I begin to build to-morrow 
 will stand rather as a monument than as a dwelling ? 
 
 " I must say I think the tonic of victory would be of 
 most happy and invigorating influence. Give me a little 
 of the ecstasy of strife. Bother this constant rehear 
 sal. 
 
 " has caught the cavalry complaint, and is off for a 
 
LTFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 183 
 
 captaincy. So we go. The Second radiates its good influ 
 ence, and every new enterprise borrows our light. 
 
 "If we could only have the baptism of battle, perhaps 
 these young men would not be in such haste to leave. Good 
 by, and a Happy New Year to all at home." 
 
 "CAMP HICKS, NEAR FREDERICK, December 29, 1861. 
 
 " DEAR FATHER, I wish you a happy and prosperous 
 New Year, and I wish that I could hope to do something to 
 help make it so. But, out here in my frontier helplessness, 
 I can only receive favors, not do them. 
 
 " It will, I trust, be a happy day for all of us when the 
 regiment has lived its life and done its work, and can return 
 in peace. Such is my drearn, though it seems distant 
 
 " I have just read the capitulation and surrender of Ma 
 son and Slidell. Seward s letter is masterly, his conclusion 
 dignified and perhaps just. His forbearance to hold on to 
 them because they are not worth it is a stroke. On the 
 whole, I am well pleased. What do you think of it ? " 
 
184 LIFE AND LETTERS OP WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 LETTERS FROM CANTONMENT HICKS, NEAR FREDERICK. CHARLES- 
 TOWN, VIRGINIA. CAMP NEAR BERRYVILLE. CAMP NEAR WIN 
 CHESTER. 
 
 "CANTONMENT HICKS, January 5, 1862, near Frederick. 
 
 AR MOTHER, The New Year is fairly open, yet 
 my pen has been silent. I would have had it other 
 wise, but have been prevented writing by a sudden call to 
 Washington. There I saw Colonel William, who was as 
 critical and hypercritical as possible. I enjoyed his discus 
 sions very much. His spirit and go are delightful. He will 
 take his regiment wherever men can go, if they only give 
 him a chance. We had a pleasant time, looking over his 
 books, and talking about war and home 
 
 u The effect of my visit to Washington was to fill me with 
 forebodings ; but, as I won t stay filled, I am resuming my 
 buoyancy again. Yesterday there was a great flurry. I 
 had come up to Frederick to church, and was enjoying the 
 service much. General Banks was called out of church, 
 and we found that Jackson was threatening Hancock, and 
 aiming to destroy the railroad bridges near by. An order 
 was immediately issued, Two days rations in haversack, 
 and be ready to march. I did not allow it to disturb me, 
 but this morning the Third Brigade went off in a snow-storm, 
 before light, to Williamsport. We are left quiet ; and, as 
 I consider it all a mere scare, I am glad we were not aroused 
 by it. 
 
 " Winter quarters are pretty precarious, however. We 
 are too far from the Potomac. This division is nowhere. 
 It is liable to go anywhere, and hence is unfortunate. One 
 regiment of the Third Brigade got back from Williamsport 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OP WILDER DWIGHT. 185 
 
 day before yesterday ; now it is off again the same thirty 
 miles through the snow. That s generalship, ain t it ? 
 Who is to blame ? No one, of course. Bah ! . . . . 
 
 " I wish you all a happy New Year ; and as for us in the 
 army, I wish us all a fghting New Year." 
 
 "CANTONMENT HICKS, near Frederick, January 7, 1862. 
 
 " It is this Tuesday evening my stove is humming in my 
 new house. Talk of luxury ! what is comparable to a 
 log-house, with windows and doors, with shelves and tables, 
 and a large, grand porch for an entrance, and in the Colo 
 nel s half of the house an open, old-fashioned, generous, 
 glowing fireplace ! You should see the architectural pro 
 portions of our new home. You would hardly believe it a 
 week s work of our wood-choppers and masons and carpen 
 ters. Yet so it is. I shall hope to send you home a photo 
 graph of it. We were within a narrow chance of leaving it 
 the other day, but now we have subsided again into tranquil 
 housekeeping and camp life. I have Colonel Andrews living 
 with me, and, indeed, took the house rather with reference 
 to him than myself. I wanted a roof to put him under on 
 his first taste of exposure. My man John, who is quite a 
 character, takes great delight in the house. He thinks my 
 half better than the Colonel s, though his is somewhat larger. 
 4 It is more comformblor nor the Colonel s, sir, and not so 
 desolate like, is his description of my cosiness. The Third 
 Brigade went off on that alarm toward Hancock ; and, as I 
 surmised, the errand proved fruitless. We are, however, 
 gathering hope of progress in the army. This condition of 
 faith in things not seen, and hope without substance, is not 
 inspiriting. The undertone of rumor in Washington was 
 very strong in the direction of activity. I am coming to 
 regard an early advance of our army as a political and moral 
 necessity, whether it is physically possible or not. The 
 achievement of the impossible is the duty and privilege of 
 greatness ; and now is certainly McClellan s opportunity. 
 
186 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 " Mrs. Ticknor did me the honor to send me a pair of 
 stockings. I wrote yesterday to acknowledge their receipt. 
 The weather, which has been bitter cold, is now moderating, 
 and the tents do not shiver as they did." 
 
 " CANTONMENT HICKS, January 10, 1862. 
 Near Frederick, Maryland. 
 
 " Napoleon said, Marlborough, while he gained battles, 
 ruled cabinets and guided statesmen. I question much if 
 our General, whatever may be the future record of him as a 
 battle-victor, will ever excite the praise of ruling cabinets or 
 statesmen. My impression, which I cannot shake off, is, 
 
 that McClellan fails to be master of the whole position 
 
 His admirers all say, Wait till he takes the field. He will 
 whirl and sweep his enemies before him like a storm-king. 
 I hope so ; but meanwhile, in the organizing and prepara 
 tory season, whose opportunity is now, his impulse is not as 
 widely or as directly felt as I could wish. This seems a 
 tangible and real defect, whose correction ought to be pos 
 sible. 
 
 " It is with such considerations as this that our minds 
 naturally busy themselves at this time. In this seclusion 
 one is apt to get under the influence of moods or rumors, 
 and to exaggerate or create facts ; but I seem, to myself, to 
 notice a great want of tone and confidence in the people and 
 in tho army. This may not be so. Certainly, however, Con 
 gress is as utterly beneath the emergency as possible. 
 
 " After all the flurry of last Sunday, we are again hope 
 lessly quiet. This is exactly according to my faith, and I 
 am sorry that you should have imagined an anxiety for me, 
 as your last letter indicates. Don t mind the telegraph ; 
 you can really judge nothing by it. 
 
 " You will see, by the date of my letter, that our camp is 
 now changed to a cantonment, by orders from brigade head 
 quarters. The huts and houses have so far outnumbered 
 the tents that this nomenclatorial effort of the General is 
 excusable. Still, we are a camp, in my view, and not a 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 187 
 
 cantonment ; though, of course, I date my letter according 
 to the order." 
 
 "CANTONMENT HICKS, NEAR FREDERICK, January 13, 1861. 
 
 " * Si le combat est pre>u, la troupe se met en grandc 
 tenue ; elle doitcette politesse a un ennemi qu elle estime. 
 
 " Dufour gives this among the rules for combats of in 
 fantry against infantry. 
 
 " What a charming courtesy ! what French politeness ! 
 Full uniform is the proper compliment to be paid to an 
 enemy that you esteem. After all, none but a Frenchman 
 could have hit upon that rule, or its reason. 
 
 " But I have news for you. Was it not Sunday when I 
 wrote ? And I forgot to mention that our band was to give 
 a grand concert on Monday evening. Spiegel, our band 
 leader, had been ambitious, and the Colonel encouraged him 
 in his scheme. The result was even better than our hope. 
 The hall was crowded. All the beauty and fashion of Fred 
 erick were there. Our band showed finely. Altogether, 
 there was Sclat in the concert. The whole closed with Hail 
 Columbia and the Star Spangled Banner. You would be 
 surprised to see with what hungry ears they listen to Yan 
 kee Doodle in this country. Those short-sighted persons 
 who advise disbanding the bands would disarm our army 
 of a great strength. 
 
 " I have found to-day that Frederick is echoing the 
 praises of the Massachusetts Second. We even think of a 
 Promenade Concert next week. So do not turn your 
 thoughts in regarding us to the discords of war, but rather 
 to the mellowest harmonies of peace. 
 
 " Again, art is giving us repute in another direction. 
 Private D Avignon, of Company I (a reduced artist, and too 
 good for a soldier), is to have the honor to draw a picture 
 of General Banks. So you see that we are not occupied as 
 your fancy would have us. 
 
 " I have a very pleasant letter from you to-day. I think 
 
188 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 the question, whether I have found a profession, or only lost 
 one. is premature. I want no unripe fruit, and I think I 
 must possess my soul in patience and in hope. 
 
 " I trust father is not much dispirited. Let him wait a 
 little longer, and perhaps we shall see something done. 
 
 " I enclose you Colonel Andrews s artistic plan of our 
 house. He made it at my request. The dimensions are 
 twenty-four feet by eighteen feet. It is a wonderful house, 
 and a great comfort this cold and snowy night." 
 
 " CANTONMENT HICKS (so called), January 17, 1862. 
 
 " I had a corpulent little letter from you, one actually 
 swelling with agreeable importance. I hope Mrs. Ticknor s 
 surprise at my acknowledging the present of the stockings 
 was not displeasure. I thought so long a pair of stockings 
 would bear a short note ; and I really wanted the opportu 
 nity to express my gratitude for the service she had done 
 us. You see a letter from no less an authority than George 
 Washington suggests exactly the counterpart of the scheme 
 of benevolence of her association, an extra shirt for the 
 soldier. 
 
 " Life lags along with us. It has its family cares and 
 its family jars ; but, on the whole, all is well ; and the 
 lengthening days already begin to promise the coming 
 
 spring. is not right in his idea that I do not want to 
 
 come home ; but I have never seen the time when I could 
 properly do so, and am quite content to wait till such a 
 time. I should prefer to have activity and success precede 
 my visit. I am quite busy with my duties on the Examin 
 ing Board, and there seems no limit to the amount of work 
 provided for us. The army certainly needs a great deal of 
 weeding out among its officers. 
 
 " I find General Hamilton and Colonel Geary very agree 
 able associates. The former is really a splendid man, and 
 a fine officer, educated, self-reliant, brave. I have great 
 confidence in him, and wish our regiment were in his brig- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 189 
 
 ade. General Hamilton is from Wisconsin, where he went 
 a few years ago on resigning from the army 
 
 " I hope father is regaining his confidence in McClellan. 
 You see the telegraph says that he has persuaded the Con 
 gressional Committee into content, after spending the day 
 with them. I think father ought to grant him another 
 lease of hope and confidence ; but for these rascally con 
 tractors, swindlers, defaulters, and other leeches I have 
 only hatred and contempt. A vigorous and lively gallows 
 is what this country wants now. 
 
 " Any change in the War Department is a change for the 
 better. I should have been glad to see General Banks there, 
 however. I have great faith in his ability and statesman 
 ship, and in his thorough comprehension of this Rebellion. 
 But as a general in the field he has not fair scope for his 
 powers yet. Perhaps it may come, however." 
 
 "HEAD-QUARTERS EXAMINING BOARD, January 21, 1861. 
 
 " It has rained and hailed and sleeted for the past four 
 days. We are kept under marching orders, but, I think, 
 with no view of an immediate movement, though it cannot 
 be long before we shall be called on to make ourselves use 
 less or useful, according to our guidance. 
 
 " I understand your state of suspense as to the army. 
 For myself, I can see no other wisdom than patience and 
 faith. I confess that, now and then, this seems difficult ; 
 but whether McClellan will not vindicate himself is not so 
 clear ; and if, when our army moves, it moves in organized 
 obedience to a single will, the wonder will not be that so 
 much time has been spent in preparation, but that the prep 
 aration has been made 
 
 " While I write this letter, the examination of an unlucky 
 lieutenant is going on. The young man is wandering now 
 through the mazes of battalion drill, and he seems rather 
 lost. I hope this work is nearly over. 
 
 " On the whole, bad as the season is, and ominous as the 
 
190 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 anniversary on which I write (six months ago, Bull Run), 
 I should like to see some fighting done. 
 
 " We have telegraphic news to-day of a < Great battle 
 and victory over Zollicoffer in Kentucky. I hope it may 
 not dwindle as Nelson s victory did. I take great comfort 
 in reading the extracts from the Southern newspapers. 
 They seem to write without hope. Love to all." 
 
 * CANTONMENT HICKS, NEAR FREDERICK, 
 January 25, 1862. 
 
 " At last we have symptoms of sunshine in our tedious and 
 sullen sky ; and at last, also, we have symptoms of breaking 
 light on the horizon of the future. The rout of Zollicoffer 
 (Phoebus, what a name !), of great results in itself, gets its 
 best significance from the confidence it inspires in what may 
 and must follow, if alacrity shall replace torpor, under the 
 quickening guidance of our new War Secretary. I hear 
 the best accounts of Mr. Stanton, and he certainly has the 
 confidence of the country. Indeed, it begins to seem as if 
 we were on our way out of the woods at last. I have had 
 
 the greatest pleasure in a visit from . The Colonel 
 
 went down to Washington on Monday, and brought 
 
 back with him. I found him snug in one corner of the 
 Colonel s fireplace on my return to camp in the afternoon. 
 An evening full of talk, and gladdened by a great many 
 home-memories, followed. Unluckily, we are in the midst 
 of our rain and mud, so we could not show our prettiness ; 
 but I think he enjoyed seeing a little of the plain prose of 
 soldiering, perhaps as much as its gayer phase. You have 
 no idea of the depressing influence of mud, deep, miry, 
 insidious, hopeless mud. The Slough of Despond is no alle 
 gory. The soil of Maryland is very unpropitious, and we 
 cannot find dry ground, at this season, for our camps. An 
 other box from Mrs. Ticknor opportunely brightens this dull 
 time. But it seems that, in this vicinity, we can hardly 
 expect rapid motion just now." 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 191 
 
 "FROM GENERAL BANKS S COLUMN, 
 Frederick, Maryland, Jan. 17. 
 
 " Nothing of the least interest has transpired for several 
 days past along the line of the Upper Potomac. 
 
 "CANTONMENT (?) HICKS, January 28, 1862. 
 
 " I send you the above, clipped from yesterday s paper. It 
 is a wonderfully accurate telegraphic despatch. It is a curi 
 osity of correctness, a prodigy of precision. It states, too, 
 all that I can hope to do for you by way of news. Yet I 
 will not deny that the air is full of rumors, nor that our 
 stay at Frederick is, very probably, to count itself by days 
 rather than weeks* 
 
 " This whole region of conjecture is so tracked and 
 trodden by the impatient restlessness of camp life, that I 
 consider it worth little. Yet I wish you to feel sure that, 
 though i nothing of the least interest transpires, we keep 
 up a perturbed prophesying, which answers very well to 
 spice and quicken this slow life 
 
 " I saw yesterday a writing-case that excited my envy. 
 It rolls up very compactly ; and, being composed of narrow 
 and thin pieces of wood, a clamp holds them in place, and 
 makes a, tablet of the roll. 
 
 " Will you get me a small one ? as I hope to be re 
 duced to a carpet-bag or a saddle-bag very often this sum 
 mer 
 
 " I am going to do what I can to reduce living to its 
 lowest terms ; and I hope to be as movable as a small, 
 country frame-house ; which, I believe, is the most restless 
 fixture of modern times." 
 
 " CANTONMENT HICKS, NEAR FREDERICK, 
 January 28, 1862. 
 
 " If I write you from my experience, I shall have little 
 to tell of a soldier s life. It is one of the disadvantages of 
 this detached duty that it separates one from the life of the 
 regiment. This I could find more disposition to regret, if 
 
192 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 I saw much life now in the regiment ; but, in truth, we are 
 devoting ourselves to keeping warm and dry under every 
 assault of heaven and earth, rain and mud 
 
 " Yesterday we had a new excitement and amusement. 
 Colonel Geary got up a party to Point of Rocks, by special 
 train, in the evening, to witness his private theatricals. We 
 had a gay excursion. A crowded car of young ladies and 
 old generals ; off we went at about six o clock. When we 
 reached Point of Rocks, we emerged from the car ; and, 
 amid the clanging, brazen music of the band, piled our 
 selves into army-wagons, whose sternness was soothed with 
 a little straw. On we went, jolting and laughing, to the 
 camp. There we found an out-door stage, bright with hang 
 ing Chinese lanterns ; and, in the chilly night, well wrapped 
 up, we shiveringly admired the Geary Thespian Corps. 
 Toodles was very well played ; and, indeed, the acting was 
 successful. We came back by the cars at midnight. Our 
 moving train at the unusual hour, so near the enemy s 
 lines on the other side of the Potomac, set their signal- 
 lights playing, and, undoubtedly, they failed to explain the 
 activity in Colonel Geary s camp by its true cause. In 
 truth, it is an experience, an open-air theatrical display 
 in January, within reach of Rebel guns, and in sight of 
 Rebel signal-fires. 
 
 " General Banks went off to -Washington yesterday. Ru 
 mor gives him various errands. We only hope that he goes 
 to hear of some movement that he may share or inaugurate. 
 I do not even guess a motive, for my guesses come back on 
 me dishonored so often that I weary of conjecture. 
 
 " If the history of the volunteer force for this great war 
 of ours shall ever be written, I can certainly give some very 
 amusing episodes of appointments of officers, and their 
 character and capacity. Our Board continues -its weeding 
 ruthlessly. To-day, under the terror even of our presence, 
 were two resignations, one of a colonel. 
 
 " I enclose for you a very unfair photograph of my friend 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 193 
 
 General Hamilton. It does not do him justice ; yet it is, 
 of course, a likeness. Place it in my album, if you please. 
 Colonel Geary promises to exchange with me also, so that I 
 shall have the whole Board in my book. 
 
 " The association has been such a pleasant one that I 
 shall like to have you keep a souvenir of it. . . . . 
 
 " To one who believes in omens, as I do, who hails the 
 crescent with a right-shouldered glance, the battle of Mill 
 Spring is something more than a victory. It is an augury, 
 and it fills me with hope. 
 
 " I am scribbling the close of this letter in the rooms of 
 the Examining Board, interrupted by a chat with General 
 Hamilton. 
 
 " I give you all joy of Kentucky. Will not father allow 
 his forebodings to be corrected a little ? Love to all." 
 
 " CANTONMENT HICKS, February 2, 1862. 
 
 " A Sunday-morning inspection of your letter, received 
 last evening, prompts me to answer ; though it must come 
 out of the blank which is now my book of chronicles. I 
 might write to you, it is true, out of myself. In this case, 
 I should probably exaggerate the thoughts and feelings 
 which spring naturally from the experiences of this new, 
 and, in some sort, intense life. Not that it is now a life of 
 even mental, much less moral or emotional, activity ; but 
 I choose the word for its derivative, rather than its acquired 
 significance. The life is tense, in the sense of keeping one 
 on the stretch. All the chords seem to be kept at their 
 highest vibratory capacity. With occasional lapses of de- 
 pressional laxity, this is true ; and it gives the meaning to 
 our seemingly dull existence. Action would be a great 
 relief. You good people, who sit at home and ask for a 
 battle with such impatience for result, can only feebly guess 
 at the temper of the army itself. I do not agree at all with 
 some who speak of our being demoralized. I think we are 
 becoming restive, eager, sore ; but, I trust, all the more 
 
 13 
 
192 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 I saw much life now in the regiment ; but, in truth, we are 
 devoting ourselves to keeping warm and dry under every 
 assault of heaven and earth, rain and mud 
 
 " Yesterday we had a new excitement and amusement. 
 Colonel Geary got up a party to Point of Rocks, by special 
 train, in the evening, to witness his private theatricals. We 
 had a gay excursion. A crowded car of young ladies and 
 old generals ; off we went at about six o clock. When we 
 reached Point of Rocks, we emerged from the car; and, 
 amid the clanging, brazen music of the band, piled our 
 selves into army-wagons, whose sternness was soothed with 
 a little straw. On we went, jolting and laughing, to the 
 camp. There we found an out-door stage, bright with hang 
 ing Chinese lanterns ; and, in the chilly night, well wrapped 
 up, we shiveringly admired the Geary Thespian Corps. 
 Toodles was very well played ; and, indeed, the acting was 
 successful. We came back by the cars at midnight. Our 
 moving train at the unusual hour, so near the enemy s 
 lines on the other side of the Potomac, set their signal- 
 lights playing, and, undoubtedly, they failed to explain the 
 activity in Colonel Geary s camp by its true cause. In 
 truth, it is an experience, an open-air theatrical display 
 in January, within reach of Rebel guns, and in sight of 
 Rebel signal-fires. 
 
 " General Banks went off to -Washington yesterday. Ru 
 mor gives him various errands. We only hope that he goes 
 to hear of some movement that he may share or inaugurate. 
 I do not even guess a motive, for my guesses come back on 
 me dishonored so often that I weary of conjecture. 
 
 " If the history of the volunteer force for this great war 
 of ours shall ever be written, I can certainly give some very 
 amusing episodes of appointments of officers, and their 
 character and capacity. Our Board continues -its weeding 
 ruthlessly. To-day, under the terror even of our presence, 
 were two resignations, one of a colonel. 
 
 " I enclose for you a very unfair photograph of my friend 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 193 
 
 General Hamilton. It does not do him justice ; yet it is, 
 of course, a likeness. Place it in my album, if you please. 
 Colonel Geary promises to exchange with me also, so that I 
 shall have the whole Board in my book. 
 
 " The association has been such a pleasant one that I 
 shall like to have you keep a souvenir of it. . . . . 
 
 " To one who believes in omens, as I do, who hails the 
 crescent with a right-shouldered glance, the battle of Mill 
 Spring is something more than a victory. It is an augury, 
 and it fills me with hope. 
 
 " I am scribbling the close of this letter in the rooms of 
 the Examining Board, interrupted by a chat with General 
 Hamilton. 
 
 " I give you all joy of Kentucky. Will not father allow 
 his forebodings to be corrected a little ? Love to all." 
 
 " CANTONMENT HICKS, February 2, 1862. 
 
 " A Sunday-morning inspection of your letter, received 
 last evening, prompts me to answer ; though it must come 
 out of the blank which is now my book of chronicles. I 
 might write to yon, it is true, out of myself. In this case, 
 I should probably exaggerate the thoughts and feelings 
 which spring naturally from the experiences of this new, 
 and, in some sort, intense life. Not that it is now a life of 
 even mental, much less moral or emotional, activity ; but 
 I choose the word for its derivative, rather than its acquired 
 significance. The life is tense, in the sense of keeping one 
 on the stretch. All the chords seem to be kept at their 
 highest vibratory capacity. With occasional lapses of de- 
 pressional laxity, this is true ; and it gives the meaning to 
 our seemingly dull existence. Action would be a great 
 relief. You good people, who sit at home and ask for a 
 battle with such impatience for result, can only feebly guess 
 at the temper of the army itself. I do not agree at all with 
 some who speak of our being demoralized. I think we are 
 becoming restive, eager, sore ; but, I trust, all the more 
 
 13 
 
194 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 ready and willing for sacrifice, effort, suffering. I can im 
 agine McClellan himself chafing to himself within himself 
 while his hand is on the curb. 
 
 " But bother reflection ; and of all spections the foolishest 
 is introspection. I do not care to analyze my present state ; 
 but I do pray that Heaven has not three months more of 
 this kind of life in store for me. 
 
 " Aut cita mors, aut victoria Iceta? 
 
 " You may conjecture, from the above, it has been partic 
 ularly rainy and muddy this week I can call up your 
 
 coasting scene, not without envy. There is youth in it, and 
 everything young I like. Our snow here is so undecided 
 and capricious that it gives no such hope of enjoyment. 
 And Tug,* too, you say he is depressed. I can well under 
 stand the serious concern with which he must regard his 
 country s trial. I hope he will not be doomed to close his 
 eyes, after a last look at the dishonored fragments of a once 
 glorious Union. You must guard his old age till my return. 
 His life has been one of constant struggle and inquiry ; he 
 should have an old age of ease and contemplation. I know 
 not what fate is in store for him, but few of us can look back 
 on a life of so many purposes and so much attainment." 
 
 " CANTONMENT HICKS, February 9, 1862, near Frederick. 
 
 " If I could take the wings of this brisk, sunny morning, 
 I would certainly fold them on our front-door steps in 
 Brookline. Nor would I then proceed to hide my head 
 under the wings, but, having flapped them cheerfully, I 
 would thereupon crow ! 
 
 " But, as the wings and a furlough are both wanting, I 
 must content myself with a web-footed, amphibious existence 
 in the mud of Maryland. 
 
 " There is a secession song which enjoys a surreptitious 
 parlor popularity here. It is called, Maryland, my Mary 
 land ! and rehearses, among other things, that the despot s 
 
 * A favorite old dog, who survived his master but one year. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 195 
 
 heel is on thy breast ! If that be so, all I have got to say 
 is, that, just now, the heel has the worst of it. Yet there 
 is a just satisfaction in this morning s inspection of men, 
 tents, and kitchens. to see how, by discipline, method, and 
 fidelity, there is a successful contest maintained with all the 
 elements. The neatness and order of our camp, in spite of 
 mud, is a volunteer miracle. 
 
 " You will be glad to know that the regiment is now in 
 fine health. We already begin to count the days till spring. 
 Of course, it is unsafe to predict the climate. I remember 
 very well, however, that last February was quite dry, and 
 that early in March dust, and not mud, was the enemy I 
 found in Washington. It may well be, therefore, that there 
 is a good time coming. 
 
 " Indeed, has it not, in one sense, already come ? Can 
 you blind yourself to the omens and the tendencies ? What 
 shall we say of those statesmen of a budding empire, a new 
 State, which is to give the law to the commerce and industry 
 of the world through a single monopoly ? What shall we 
 say of the statesmen (Cobb, Toombs, etc.) who counsel 
 their happy and chivalrous people to a general bonfire of 
 house, home, and product ? There s a new industry for a 
 new State. King Cotton is a rare potentate. He proposes 
 to be, himself, his own circulating medium, among other 
 eccentricities. 
 
 " Then, too, what admirable inferiority of fortification 
 they succeed in erecting ! Will our fleet of gunboats have 
 as easy victories over all their river defences ? and, if so, 
 how far are we from Memphis ? and where is Porter going 
 with his Mortar Fleet. Among the ablest of our naval 
 commanders, he is not bent on a fool s errand. When Jeff 
 Davis sleeps o nights, does he dream of power ? 
 
 " But I ve given you too many questions. In the midst 
 of all this jubilant interrogatory, when will our time come ? 
 Just as soon as the mud dries, without a doubt. 
 
 " Our life jogs on here without variety. For the most 
 
196 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 part, we spend our time in reading military books and talk 
 ing military talk. 
 
 u I am just now a good deal disturbed by the prospect 
 of disbanding the bands. A greater mistake could not be 
 made. The man with so little music in his soul as to vote 
 for it is fit for a Secessionist. Marshal Saxe, in introdu 
 cing the cadenced step in the French infantry, says, Music 
 exerts a great and secret power over us. It disposes " nos 
 organes aux exercises du corps, les soulagent dans ces ex 
 ercises. On danse toute une nuit au son des instruments 
 mais personne ne resterait a danser pendant un quart 
 d heure, seulement, sans musique." I have seen many a 
 practical verification of this in the gathering freshness and 
 quickness with which jaded men went on their march when 
 the music called and cheered them. 
 
 " Besides, we want the Star Spangled Banner, and its 
 melody, as allies against the Rebel seductions." 
 
 "CAMP HICKS, NEAR FREDERICK, February 12, 1862. 
 
 " Had n t the little hills better begin to rejoice ? Some 
 thing ought to clap its hands. What of Burnside ? The luck 
 has changed. Louis Napoleon says he will give us only 
 wishes. 9 Good ones or bad, I care not, so they are wishes 
 merely. This evening an order comes to us to furnish, 
 from our regiment, part of a force to man some gunboats on 
 the Mississippi River. That looks like life in the West. It 
 is an outrage on our regiment, of course, but perhaps will 
 help the cause. We send thirty or forty men, no officers, 
 that is the order. But to go back to Burnside and three 
 thousand prisoners. There s progress for you ! Yet, in the 
 midst of it.all (shall I confess it?), I have not felt so blue for 
 a month as I do to-day. Exploit, achievement, victory, 
 but I not there. I may feel and express foolishness, and I 
 think I do ; but I had rather lose my life to-morrow in a 
 victory than to save it for fifty years without one. This 
 inaction and stagnation, in the midst of all the animating 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 197 
 
 news from every quarter, is utterly maddening ; and I must 
 yell out my grief in the midst of this general joy. 
 
 " There, I have relieved myself a little, and perhaps I can 
 now write reasonably, and with a moderately Christian 
 temper. 
 
 " There is some authoritative statement as to the relative 
 merit, I believe, of him who ruleth his spirit and of him 
 who taketh a city. You see that I do neither. When I 
 speak of myself as not there, I mean the Massachusetts Sec 
 ond, in whose fortunes and hopes I merge my own. 
 
 " I ought, perhaps, to burn this letter, but I 11 send it, I 
 believe. In an hour or two I shall be cheerful as ever, and 
 continue the service of standing and waiting with good heart, 
 I hope." 
 
 " CANTONMENT HICKS, February 16, 1862, near Frederick. 
 
 " I sent you a howl last Wednesday ; but, now that I 
 find there was a plentiful lack of fighting at Roanoke Island, 
 and an equal abundance of running away, I care little about 
 it. Its effect, though, is grand. Still more important is 
 the news from the Mississippi and Tennessee. That idol 
 atrous devotion to the old Union, which the Richmond 
 Despatch so feelingly regrets, we shall hear more from 
 soon. 
 
 " We are approaching consummations in many directions, 
 I opine. At times, I almost fear a sudden collapse, and 
 very little fighting after all. Still, I think this can hardly 
 be. It is not to be desired, I think, because of the weak- 
 kneed settlement that would come. I see no good way 
 out of our present difficulties, except through an over 
 whelming military superiority established by battles and 
 defeats. Subjugation, the thing that they fear, is the thing 
 I desire. 
 
 " I hope that father begins to revive his faith in McClellan 
 under the apparent culmination of his plans and combina 
 tions. But, unluckily, we are a people without faith in men 
 
198 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 or in principles, I fear ; and that is the most hopeless sign 
 in our condition. 
 
 " To-day, we have the wintriest morning of the year. 
 Bright sunshine, however, makes it cheerful ; and I look 
 upon it as the last effort of winter. This is not a climate 
 in which winter lingers to chill the lap of spring, and we 
 are all ready for a spring. 
 
 " This evening I shall go into church to the pretty Epis 
 copal Church in Frederick. 
 
 " Our cook, Tony, came in this morning, in great glee, 
 to report that his pigeon had laid two eggs (and Sunday 
 she lays two). He has several pets, puppies, kittens, 
 chickens, and doves. 
 
 " Hurrah for the Union and McClellan ! " 
 
 " CANTONMENT HICKS, 
 
 Raining like the recent Federal victories, and dark and 
 cloudy as the Ilebel prospects, 
 
 February 19, 1862. 
 
 " Hurrah for Donelson ! Are not the bricks beginning 
 to tumble beautifully ? 
 
 " Glorious Holt has tears of joy filling his eyes. John 
 son and Maynard have homes and families again. The 
 ungenerous advantage has been taken ! 
 
 u Price, too, as we hear to-night, has at last fallen into 
 the trap, and that fox has lost his tail at last. I am think 
 ing that it will be fashionable soon, in rebeldom. for the 
 foxes to go without their tails. In the midst of all this, 
 where are we ? There is not even echo enough to answer 
 the question. 
 
 " Tell D to keep the money raised by the theatricals 
 
 for sick and wounded soldiers, and intrust it only to such 
 spending as shall wisely guide it in such channels 
 
 " Howard, perchance, has seen service in this Price pur 
 suit and capture. Heaven send him honorable employment. 
 He has the other things needful. 
 
 " I have, in my time, heard a great deal said of vital faith 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 199 
 
 and trust in God. I have observed very little of its practi 
 cal working in life. I must say, I should like to have it 
 myself. The last month has been the hardest one since 
 I entered the service. Action, action, action, is what we 
 want." 
 
 " CAMP HICKS, February 25. 
 
 " We are under marching orders, and shall leave very 
 soon for Harper s Ferry and so on. 1 There is an exhilarat 
 ing cheerfulness in this new life. I am so blaze of sensa 
 tions that my hope rises feebly. There may, however, be 
 purpose and exploit in our future, who knows ? I have 
 only time to give you greeting." 
 
 " CHARLESTOWN, VIRGINIA, February 28, 1862. 
 
 " A story to tell, and no time to tell it in. That is my 
 record. After tedious waiting in Frederick, with constant 
 threatenings of movement, at last, in the pouring rain of 
 Wednesday night, came the order to be at the depot in 
 Frederick at daylight, to take the cars for Harper s Ferry. 
 So, in the dark, damp fog of Thursday morning, the line 
 was formed, and on we splashed and paddled to the turn 
 pike. Just at sunrise we entered Frederick. The band 
 played, The girl I left behind me, and tearful maidens 
 looked a sad farewell. When we got to the depot, we found 
 no cars. At twelve, M., we got off. 
 
 " Only six hours delay, caused by the crowding of troops 
 on the road coming from Poolesville. The day broke clear 
 and cold. Our Frederick friends saw the last of us, and we 
 were off. At four o clock we reached Sandy Hook, and 
 were soon crossing the bridge to Harper s Ferry. As we 
 entered the town the music swelled out, the men closed up, 
 and on we went, by the Shenandoah road, to the upper part 
 of the town. We crowded into a few buildings. An old 
 negro woman gave the Colonel and myself shelter, and we 
 spent the night. This old woman gave us her political 
 sentiments briefly, thus : De Union is broderly love. Dat s 
 
200 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 what de Union is. Dese yere secesshnists ain t got no sich 
 principle. In de Union dey do good to one another ; but 
 dese yere secesshnists dey don t do no good to yon. Dey 
 won t help yer out when yer s in trouble. Lord bress yer ! 
 dey can t help derselves out, let alone other folks. I s for 
 de Union and love ; dat s what I s for. 
 
 " At three in the morning we were roused up by an order 
 for the regiment to move, soon after sunrise, in a recon- 
 noissance to Charlestown. In the sharp, windy morning we 
 took up the march. At Bolivar Heights the force assembled. 
 It consisted of four squadrons of cavalry, two sections of 
 artillery, our regiment, and the Third Wisconsin. 
 
 " Colonel Gordon, as the ranking colonel, was in com 
 mand. Colonel Andrews had been detailed as Provost 
 Marshal of Harper s Ferry. This left me in immediate 
 command of the regiment. We moved on, over the road 
 by which we had eight months before advanced (!) to Har 
 per s Ferry. 
 
 " When we got near Charlestown, Colonel Gordon hurried 
 on with his cavalry, and all four squadrons whirled down 
 the main street rattlingly. Half a dozen cavalry scampered 
 out at the other end of the town, on the road to Winchester, 
 and the place was in our grasp. 
 
 u The artillery was posted, commanding the two roads 
 toward Winchester, and our regiment was drawn up in 
 support ; the Third Wisconsin in rear. We had been 
 there half an hour. The cavalry had divided itself, and 
 gone out over the various roads. We then heard that 
 McClellan was coming. So I drew up the regiment, and 
 he rode the length of it with his staff. I then joined them, 
 for a moment, to answer General Banks s inquiries, and 
 those of General McClellan. Colonel Gordon soon came 
 back. After a consultation, it was determined to remain in 
 the town and hold it. Our reconnoissance changed to an 
 advance. I put the bulk of the regiment in the court 
 house, John Brown s court-house. I was immediately 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 201 
 
 appointed Acting Provost Marshal, and had my hands full 
 all day, attending to the quartering of troops, feeding thenv 
 (for we were without rations), preventing marauding, post 
 ing pickets, <fcc., &c. It was an awful blustering day. At 
 evening General Hamilton came in and took command. I 
 was in the saddle the first part of the night, on duty, but 
 had comfortable quarters for sleeping. 
 
 " At two in the morning, however, there was an alarm. 
 I had to go and get the regiment under arms, also to organ 
 ize a party for the purpose of obstructing the railway. 
 
 " And now, this bright morning (March 1 ; I wrote only 
 a few lines last night), we are busy with a thousand and 
 one affairs. How soon we shall advance I do not know. 
 We are in large force, and shall take no steps backwards. 
 
 " McClellan has gone back to Washington, we hear. We 
 know little of our future. The force at Harper s Ferry is 
 increasing. A permanent bridge is going up. 
 
 " It takes a little time to organize supplies, but, as the 
 men are fond of singing, i we are marching on. The regi 
 ment is in fine condition. 
 
 " To-day the rest of our brigade, from which we have 
 been detached since the reconnoissance, has marched up. 
 
 " We have been mustering the regiment ; and used, for 
 that purpose, the court-room. It was an odd capsize of 
 events that brought about the muster of a Yankee regiment 
 in Charlestown court-house. 
 
 " The newspapers, I see, are silent about our movements, 
 or nearly so. I suppose this is under the order of the Presi 
 dent checking the telegraph and mail. This order is a 
 sound and healthy one. 
 
 " I have had several amusing experiences in this hot 
 secession town in my provost-marshalship. One good lady 
 told me this morning, Well ! I hope you 11 be beaten in 
 your next battle ; but you can have the rooms, and I 11 have 
 a fire built directly, as they are rather damp for you. I 
 thought this charming feminine consistency. 
 
202 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. 
 
 " I think we under-estimate the strength of the secession 
 ^sentiment and overestimate the Union feeling. Still, I may 
 speak from the fresh impressions of my recent experience. 
 At any rate, there is a long battle to come after the bayonet 
 has done its work. Troops have been coming in all day." 
 
 " CHARLESTOWN, March 4, 1862. 
 
 " The extent to which our regiment has followed the path 
 of John Brown is somewhat curious. The last coincidence 
 of occupation occurred on Sunday, when the men were 
 assembled in the court -room of the court-house, and 
 listened to our chaplain, who preached from the judges 
 bench ! This morning Colonel Gordon and I went in to 
 see the cell of Brown in the jail, and also went out in 
 the open field, where, upon a knoll, can be seen the holes 
 in which the gallows was set up. * This is a fine country, 
 said Brown, as he came out into the field which commands 
 a view of this grand country. I have not had an oppor 
 tunity of observing it before. .... 
 
 " This country has been the paradise of debtors, and cred 
 itors have seen their mortgages and notes melt away into 
 Confederate bonds, payable i six months after the ratification 
 of a treaty of peace between the Confederate States and 
 the United States. Money has been the one thing in excess, 
 and delusion or terror have made this currency pass readily 
 in payment of debts. An element which will have some 
 weight when you talk of conciliation is this same currency 
 question. 
 
 " Before our arrival, every one had money. The night 
 before we came to town the bank migrated suddenly to 
 Stanton, and to-day the people are refusing their own 
 money. 
 
 " Pretty conciliation you bring us, says one man ; 
 6 why, you won t even take our money. This consequence 
 of the i invasion cannot fail to supply an argument to the 
 Rebels, which they will adroitly use." 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 203 
 
 " CIIARLESTOWN, VIRGINIA, March 8, 1862, Saturday. 
 
 " We are quite at home in Charlestown now. We wont 
 into camp on Wednesday. On Thursday I was detailed as 
 brigade officer of the day. 
 
 " That kept me in the saddle all day and until night. 
 And now I have a story of a midnight march for you. It 
 is midnight of Thursday night. It may have begun to be 
 Friday morning. I am sleeping in my tent ; my nose alone 
 apprising me that it is bitter cold. The rattle of an orderly 
 is heard galloping into the camp. Soon, again, my reviv 
 ing wakefulness hears the voice of Major Perkins, General 
 Banks s Chief of Staff, talking to the Colonel in the next 
 tent. 
 
 " At last I am called. Get the regiment under arms at 
 once, Major, is the order, c and move down on the Berry- 
 ville Pike. Colonel Maulsby, who is at Kabletown, near 
 the Shenandoah, with part of his regiment, is reported to 
 have been attacked by Rebel cavalry, and cut to pieces. 
 A force of cavalry, artillery, and two regiments of infantry, 
 under Colonel Gordon, is to move at once, cautiously, to his 
 relief. It is dark, and so cold. A discussion of the best 
 route ensues. The regiment is turned out. I mount my 
 horse and ride down to take command. In the darkness, 
 it is difficult to see whether the regiment is facing one way 
 or another. We move down upon the road. The Sixteenth 
 Indiana follows us. 
 
 " After proceeding a mile upon the pike, we turn off upon 
 the < Dirt Road, so called, toward Kabletown. Over rocks, 
 through ruts and mire, half frozen, we make a slight head 
 way. The artillery cannot proceed. It is too dark for even 
 safe progress by infantry. Halt ! Build fires, and bivouac 
 till daylight. In fifteen minutes, from our position at the 
 head of the line to the rear of it is a succession of bright 
 fires, with groups of men gathered round them. Down the 
 hill, and along the winding road is one blaze of camp-fires. 
 The sight is a fine one. At last the morning star rises, like 
 
204 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 a flame, and the day follows her. We move again, with 
 flankers and advance guard. As we had been sitting about 
 the fire, waiting for day, a teamster of Colonel Maulsby s 
 regiment, who was our guide, had told his story, how the 
 cavalry charged upon them, cut them down, and now, said 
 he, Colonel Maulsby and all his officers are either dead or 
 on their way to Richmond. 
 
 " As we drew near to Kabletown we saw pickets and 
 outposts. A company of our regiment, deployed as skir 
 mishers, went down on the field toward them. They with 
 drew ; but suddenly it appears that they are part of Colonel 
 Maulsby s Home Guard ! 
 
 " We advance again, when, at a turn in the road, the 
 quiet camp of Colonel Maulsby appears in tranquil uncon 
 sciousness. The teamster opens his eyes in blank amaze 
 ment. We halt. I go on and find Colonel Maulsby, 
 delighted and surprised to see me. 
 
 " Then come the explanations. A patrol of our cavalry 
 lost its way, last night, came rapidly in on the camp by the 
 wrong road. Maulsby s men fired, and so did the cavalry. 
 The teamsters and a few of the outposts were panic-stricken, 
 and their terror drew a picture which had little resemblance 
 to the reality. 
 
 " In the unlucky blunder, a horse and man were shot. 
 The fugitive teamsters and outposts had led us a pretty 
 chase. The joke and collapse were ridiculous. Come in 
 to breakfast, said Colonel Maulsby. Ha ! ha ! ha ! We 
 are the heroes of Kabletown ! On our return, I told 
 General Banks that Kabletown should be inscribed on our 
 banners ! 
 
 " We had a night march, and at ten o clock in the 
 morning we got back to our camp, after fourteen miles of 
 marching over the worst road in the world. Well ! what 
 of it ? There is no harm done, and perhaps this wretched 
 cavalry has learnt a lesson. 
 
 " I am writing in the Provost Marshal s office in the 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 205 
 
 Charlestown jail. Colonel Andrews is still Provost Marshal. 
 John Brown s cell, on the opposite side of the entry, is full 
 of contrabands, fugitives within our lines, most of them to 
 he sent to work at Harper s Ferry. Again I give you an 
 odd retribution from the whirligig of events." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR CHARLESTOWN, VIRGINIA, March 9, 1862. 
 
 " After finishing my letter to you yesterday, as I came 
 out of the Provost Marshal s office, I saw a sight that I 
 would gladly photograph for you. A large wagon full of 
 negro men, women, and children, overrunning like the old 
 woman s shoe. It had come in from the farm, near town, 
 of some disloyal Rebel. There stood the load of helpless 
 and deserted contrabands ; an embarrassment and a ques 
 tion typifying the status of the slave everywhere, as the army 
 marches on. 
 
 " 4 You see that wagon, said my friend and quondam 
 enemy, the secession postmaster. Well, that is an answer 
 to all your talk of protection and good government. No, 
 said I ; l under the government, and with the peace you 
 then enjoyed, there were no such wagons. You had better 
 hasten back under the government, or all your negroes will 
 be in wagons or on foot, whither they choose. War is a 
 rough master, but it has no rules or processes for the en 
 forcement of the slave code. 
 
 " The question meets you at every turn. At the tavern 
 where we stopped for a few days after coming to town were 
 two slaves, an Aunt Chloe, whose bread and pastry and 
 cake realized Mrs. Stowe s fiction ; her son George, eighteen 
 years old, who waited on table, and whose free father is a 
 carpenter in Charlestown. Day before yesterday, on going 
 to town, I found aunty in great affliction. Her only boy, 
 George, had c run away. When General Hamilton went 
 on to Smithfield, George went too. 
 
 " He wanted to be free, instead of following longer the 
 apron-string and status of his mother. Either his free father 
 
206 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 or our servants or the change of air had poisoned his 
 mind, as our host, his owner, phrased it. I might add 
 case after case. 
 
 " The leaven is working ; there is no stopping it." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR BERRYVILLE, March 12, 1862. 
 Ten miles from Winchester. 
 
 " A rapid, muddy march brought us to Berryville on 
 Monday afternoon. As brigade officer of the day, I was 
 busy about the outposts of our new position. The only 
 evidence of the enemy was a few cavalry. 
 
 " The regiment lay down to bivouac, with the aid of straw 
 and fence-rails. Yesterday I was also busy as field officer, 
 and at one o clock this morning was glad to leave the saddle 
 for my tent and bed, which had come up at evening. The 
 weather is lovely. Our cavalry reconnoissance went within 
 three miles of Winchester, driving the enemy s cavalry, and 
 taking a few prisoners. 
 
 " The best joke of our entry to Berryville I send you in 
 the shape of two newspapers. 
 
 " The editor of the Berryville Conservator had the outside 
 of his paper struck off, when our coming led him to strike 
 himself off. Some printers of the Minnesota regiment took 
 up his paper and types and completed the news of the day. 
 The result I send you. It was issued the morning after 
 our arrival. The outside contains the report of Johnson s 
 operations in this valley and at Manassas last summer. 
 The inside records another campaign. 
 
 " The date of my next letter, I think, will be in Win 
 chester. 
 
 " I hope Howard has had a share in the successes in 
 Arkansas." 
 
 " CAMP NEAR WINCHESTER, March 13, 1862. 
 
 " At last ! My prophecy of yesterday found its fulfilment 
 rapidly enough. Half an hour after my letter went on its 
 way, Colonel Andrews brought the news that Hamilton s 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 207 
 
 and Williams s brigades were in Winchester, as quietly and 
 easily as if no hostile force had ever held it. Jackson left 
 the night before, having held Hamilton and us in check all 
 the previous day by slight demonstrations of cavalry. It is 
 as I have always supposed, though this general exodus from 
 Manassas and the whole line is more sudden than I believed 
 possible. It gives us a stern chase, perhaps a long chase. 
 After lunch the Colonel and I determined to gallop down 
 from Berryville to Winchester to call on Hamilton and see 
 the place, a pleasant ride of ten miles. We approached 
 the town from the east. The only symptom of fortification 
 was a long rifle-pit, with a few platforms for guns, and one 
 broken gun truck, or ship carriage. We found General 
 Hamilton in command, and in tranquil possession. Jackson 
 cleverly slipped away, carrying with him everything, guns, 
 stores, men. He had been moving for a fortnight, and has 
 gone to the railway at Strasburg. I think we have lost 
 time uselessly in our over-caution. Our own twenty-four 
 hours delay at Berryville is inexplicable to me. The effort, 
 I think, should have been made by a movement to Millwood, 
 and so across to the Strasburg pike, to cut off Jackson. A 
 bold game would, perhaps, have bagged him. Still, while 
 the position at Manassas was held, a bold game was too 
 full of hazard. After the broad hint furnished us by the 
 evacuation of Leesburg, however, I think we might have 
 pushed on our intercepting column fearlessly. At any rate, 
 the movement is without brilliancy or effectiveness or fruit, 
 and only postpones and unsettles the time of our success. 
 We got into the saddle again at half past five to return. 
 
 " Just at dusk we came near Berryville. Whom should 
 we meet but General Abercrombie. The whole brigade is 
 moving, said he. i I have a telegraphic despatch from Gen 
 eral Banks, that Hamilton is engaged with the enemy at 
 Winchester. Shields has been taken prisoner, and the loss, 
 on our part, is very heavy. We are ordered to march at 
 once to his support. But it s all a mistake, said we. 
 
208 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 i We just left General Hamilton safe and happy at Win 
 chester, and no enemy within twenty miles. Never mind/ 
 said the General ; I have my orders. It was no use ; he 
 would not let us turn the regiment back, as we desired. 
 There was nothing for it but to yield. We stopped and got 
 some supper, and then followed the regiment, overtaking it 
 at about eight o clock, as it was crossing a stream. At about 
 ten o clock, wet and cold, we turned into a field near Win 
 chester to bivouac for the night. A cold time we had of 
 it. To-day we have got into camp near the town. I rode 
 out this afternoon to see their vaunted fort on the road 
 toward Bunker Hill ; a poor affair enough. Everything 
 tells me that if Patterson had had courage instead of cau 
 tion, an army instead of a mob, we should have walked into 
 Winchester last July as we have to-day. But we needed 
 the lessons of that campaign to prepare for this. 
 
 " I must not omit to mention the arrival of the boxes of 
 clothing, from Mrs. Ticknor, on Saturday last at Charles- 
 town. They came, like their predecessors, most opportunely. 
 It was the morning after our night march over rough and 
 muddy roads. Our camp was scourged by a blustering and 
 piercing March wind. The boxes opened their warmth 
 upon men who longed for it. Give our cordial thanks to 
 all the ladies whose kindness has done so much for us. 
 
 " Great news from Arkansas ! Howard is in luck. 
 
 " My last night s bivouac, after so many previous sleepless 
 nights, has made me rather sleepy. Our regiment turned 
 into a thick pine wood. Colonel Hackleman s Indiana regi 
 ment was just in our rear. They brought along with them 
 the hens and chickens of the neighboring farms, and the 
 feathers flew briskly about their beds. Old Hackleman 
 calls them his boys, and they, in turn, call him < pap ; and 
 he has a happy, noisy family about him. As they lay by 
 our side last night, I was led to the remark, that Hackle- 1 
 man s babes were in the wood, and Hobbin Henroosts had 
 covered them with softer covering than leaves. Our regi- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OP WILDER D WIGHT. 209 
 
 ment is in perfect condition, and the men have really become 
 practised and expert soldiers. Our train came up this morn 
 ing, and at about one o clock we went into camp. Before 
 sunset ovens were built, and we had a perfectly organized 
 camp. We may not stay here a day, but everything takes 
 shape at once. The men march easily and rapidly, and 1 
 am more than ever pleased and contented with the Second 
 Regiment. 
 
 " Have we not a Monitor afloat ? Was not her providen 
 tial arrival at Norfolk an effective admonition to the Rebels ? 
 Check to their king. Private enterprise has done what our 
 Navy Department could not. What a glorious trial trip ! 
 
 " Just beyond the field in which we are encamped are the 
 remains of the camp of the Second Virginia. An omen, per 
 haps ; but this peaceable succession to vacant camps has in 
 it little of the element that feeds martial ardor or rewards 
 the ecstasy of strife ! But how silently and surely we are 
 dealing with slavery. The post at which I placed my grand 
 guard yesterday was near a fine old farm-house. Its Rebel 
 
 owner left with haste, as threw his shells with brilliant 
 
 courage at four men and a threshing-machine which his 
 distempered fancy had imagined and exaggerated into some 
 new engine of destruction. All the negro servants were left 
 in charge of the other property. This leaving one kind of 
 property in possession of another kind of property hath in it 
 a certain logical and natural inconsistency, which doth not 
 fail to show itself in the practical result. Massa s gone to 
 Winchester. He in a big hurry. Yer s welcome to the 
 hams and the other fixins. Massa very hospitable man/ 
 So the negro makes free with his fellow-property with every 
 right of succession and enjoyment that belongs to a next of 
 Jcin. Why will he not also learn to make free with himself? 
 
 " If he fails to do so, it will not be for the want of a good 
 deal of rough but sage counsel from the i boys of the Six 
 teenth Indiana Regiment, who were posted there. The 
 Hoosiers have very vague notions of property and Rebel 
 
 14 
 
210 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 ownership at the best. They have not the capacity to rise 
 to the height of contemplating human ownership. A long 
 row of beehives were humming their peaceful labors in the 
 front-yard. I hear that they soon fell into disorder, and 
 that the Hoosiers had a ration of honey ! Sic vos non vobis 
 mellificatis apes ! My Latin may be lame, but the sense 
 is clear. 
 
 " I send you a Richmond Enquirer, from the Winchester 
 mail, seized yesterday ; I send you also a paper published by 
 the Twelfth Indiana on their advent to town. It is dull 
 enough, but an odd institution, a sort of turning of the 
 Rebel batteries against themselves 
 
 " The origin of General Banks s error about a battle at 
 Winchester, which gave us our night stampede, is supposed 
 to have been in the signal corps. Some one blundered a 
 signal or forged one, we have not yet learned which ; an 
 investigation is going on." 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 211 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 LETTERS FROM CAMP NEAR WINCHESTER. WINCHESTER. BAT 
 TLE OF WINCHESTER. CAMP BIVOUAC, NEAR STRASBURG. 
 CAMP NEAR STRASBURG. CAMP NEAR EDINBURG. 
 
 "CAMP NEAR WINCHESTER, March 15, 1862. 
 
 a ^ ^ ie P^itudes an( ^ jingles that ever amused and 
 deluded a chivalrous people, the assertion, You can t 
 subjugate a State, is the wildest. These people were first 
 subjugated to secession, and now they are rapidly being 
 subjugated back to loyalty. Subjection is what vast num 
 bers of them sigh for. If only they were sure that the 
 Union authority would last. Therein lies McClellan s wis 
 dom. No step backward, is his motto. With such tactics, 
 and with a bold and confident advance, I care not whether 
 we fight battles or follow retreats, though the former is far 
 better, we restore the Union. 
 
 " I fear the people will regard the retreat from Manassas 
 as a disappointment to our arms, and almost a Rebel suc 
 cess. I fear that they will think McClellan s preparation 
 and generalship wasted. A little patience, however, may 
 show that they are wrong. We have gained an immense 
 moral victory over the Rebellion, and a short time hence 
 we shall begin to see palpable material results. Only let us 
 not, by a sudden and rash revulsion, begin at once to under 
 value our foe. Nothing but the presence everywhere, in 
 the seceded States, of Union bayonets will accomplish the 
 Union s restoration. That is a work of some time and 
 struggle, yet it must be done. The most dangerous heresy 
 seems to me to be the suggestion that the States, having 
 gone out, are to be governed as Territories. This involves 
 the admission of the theory we went to war against. Mar 
 tial law may be necessary within the States for a time ; but 
 
212 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 the State, as well as the national government, is to be re 
 stored, or our contest is fruitless. Changes, rapid and 
 unexpected, are the order of the day. Heintzelman s 
 promotion to a corps d armee leaves open his division. 
 Yesterday, when I went to town, I found that General 
 Hamilton was promoted to the command of that division. 
 He went off yesterday afternoon, regret following him from 
 every one. He is a great loss to us. His departure leaves 
 a brigade vacant ; accordingly our regiment is to-day trans 
 ferred to Hamilton s old brigade, and Colonel Gordon, as 
 senior Colonel, assigned to its command, as Acting Brigadier. 
 This is a pleasing change, and it gives the Colonel room to 
 show himself. It probably, for the present, may find me in 
 command of the regiment, as Colonel Andrews is still on 
 detached duty ; but I shall make every exertion to have 
 him returned to the regiment, in justice to him. He has 
 fairly earned the right to the command, and I should not 
 feel content to have him or the regiment deprived of it, 
 though my own personal ambition might be gratified by so 
 desirable a command. I hope I can sink myself in seeking 
 always the welfare of the regiment, and the interest of so 
 faithful an officer and friend as Colonel Andrews. I think 
 more and more, though I am unwilling to write about it, 
 that we missed the cleverest chance at cutting off and bag 
 ging Jackson and his force that ever fell in one s way. 
 Caution is the sin of our generals, I am afraid ; but military 
 criticism is not graceful, and I will waive it for the present. 
 Yet if you knew how we ache for a chance at fighting, how 
 we feel that our little army corps out in this valley has no 
 hope of it, you would not wonder that a leaden depression 
 rests heavily upon us, as we think of our hesitating and 
 peaceful advent to Winchester. And now why we do not 
 push on upon Jackson at Strasburg passes my limited con 
 jectural capacity to guess. I presume the reason to be that 
 his evanescent tactics would be sure to result in his evapora 
 tion before we got there. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 213 
 
 " This morning a few companies of cavalry, four pieces 
 of artillery, and five companies of infantry, Massachusetts 
 Thirteenth, went out on an armed reconnoissance, and 
 chased Colonel Ashby s cavalry several miles. The cavalry 
 were too quick for them, and our own cavalry has no more 
 chance of catching them than the wagon train has. They 
 are admirably mounted and thoroughly trained. Where 
 our men have to dismount and take down the bars, they fly 
 over fences and across country like birds. 
 
 " General Banks has just gone off to Washington. Conjec 
 ture is busy, again, with why ? My guess is, that we have 
 outlived our usefulness in the Shenandoah Valley, and that 
 we shall make a cut through the gap into the path of the 
 Grand Army. At any rate, nothing more can happen this side 
 the mountains, and I certainly hope we shall not be absorbed 
 into any force that is to be handled by General Fremont. 
 
 " Our little town of Berryville is also called, as you may 
 see on some of the maps, Battletown, probably with prescient 
 
 sarcasm on s anticipated cannonade of that peaceful 
 
 agricultural implement, the threshing-machine. Who shall 
 say that we are not engaged in the noble task of fulfilling 
 prophecy and making history ! 
 
 "It is now Sunday morning. After two days cloud and 
 rain, we have bright sunshine. Colonel Andrews comes 
 back to the regiment, and Colonel Gordon assumes his 
 slippery honors as provisional brigadier. 
 
 " I should like to go to church with you this morning, 
 even in an east wind. Instead of it, however, I must con 
 tent myself with thinking of you in my wind-swept camp 
 near Winchester. I see that Governor Letcher appoints 
 Winchester as a place of rendezvous for his new levy of 
 militia. I only wish they would obey his order." 
 
 " CAMP NEAR WINCHESTER, VIRGINIA, March 20, 1862. 
 
 " I have no sympathy with the strains of peace which 
 come to me in your last letters. Indeed, I am so much dis- 
 
214 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 pirited by our inaction, that I have hardly energy for letter 
 writing or elasticity for effort of any kind. McClellan s 
 order, which should be a clarion, is simply an irritant. 
 Here we are, and it is a week since we pitched our tents 
 near Winchester. Daily duty comes with every day. We 
 have had our seed-time and our harvest season, but no fruit. 
 .... I presume I love life and home and friends as much 
 as any one, but I would sooner give them all up to-day than 
 have our regiment go home empty 
 
 " As for Howard, if he closed his eyes honorably on Pea 
 Ridge he has only my envy. 
 
 " I hope we may get orders of some kind soon. Even 
 long marches and picket duty, of which we have done too 
 much already, are better than this hopeless idleness in the 
 rear of the vaunted Army of the Potomac. 
 
 " If you have any prayers to give, give them all to the 
 supplication that the Second Regiment of Massachusetts 
 Volunteers may find a field whereon to write a record of 
 itself. Do not spend your days in weakly fearing or re 
 gretting this or that life, lives whose whole sweetness 
 and value depend upon their opportunities, not on their 
 length." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR WINCHESTER, VIRGINIA, March 21, 1862. 
 
 " If you had looked upon our camp at sunrise reveille*, 
 this morning, you would have seen a dreary, wintry picture. 
 The mules gathered closely about their wagons in the 
 scourging snow-storm with sullen endurance, their tails 
 drawn tightly down, and standing in a vicious attitude of 
 expectant kicking. The horses crossly laying back their 
 ears with half-closed eyes and hanging necks. The soldiers 
 standing up to their roll-call in the attitude of the traveller 
 in the spelling-book, against whom the wind is striving to 
 gain the victory of the fable. The ground whiter than the 
 morning s early light, but only serving to darken the tents 
 into a cheerless and gloomy hue. The air itself thick with 
 snow and sleet. The camp-fires just beginning to smoke, 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. 215 
 
 and men hopelessly endeavoring to allure a blaze from black 
 coals and dripping wood. The camp-kettles and mess-pans 
 crusted with ice, suggestive of anything else than a warm 
 breakfast. Would you not expect every mind of the thou 
 sand men, remembering also their two thousand wet feet, 
 to be in harmony with the scene ? Yet, I know not how it 
 is, from some inherent perverseness perhaps, I was in ex 
 cellent spirits. 
 
 " The order has now come to march. Our destination is 
 Centreville, en route, perchance, for the enemy. At any rate, 
 I have grown philosophical again. 
 
 " I buried hope yesterday, had a glorious wake, and re 
 solved to sink every other wish in the absorbing one of the 
 progress of the war without or with the Massachusetts Sec 
 ond, as it may happen. 
 
 " We cross the Shenandoah at Snicker s Gap. The march 
 is one of about sixty miles, and will occupy at least four 
 days. 
 
 " General Banks, who has just returned from Washington, 
 seems in good spirits. He gives, however, a depressing 
 account of the Congressional and political folly which con 
 tinues to assail McClellan. If McClellan were all they 
 charge him to be, their lips should be sealed. 
 
 " Every good man will now seek to strengthen the hand 
 and animate the purpose of the General under whose guid 
 ance the decisive campaign begins 
 
 " The weather is breaking away, and promises no very 
 severe penance for our march, though it is not fun that is 
 before us next week. No news yet of Howard, I suppose. 
 It is clear that he has been in one of the hottest battles of 
 the war. You will not hear from me again till Centreville 
 probably." 
 
 "WINCHESTER, VIRGINIA (again), March 24, Monday. 
 
 " I ve only a minute in which to send you greeting. 
 Again are we hurried by a forced march, over rough roads, 
 to see the dregs and debris of a battle, heaps of wounded, 
 
216 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 dying, and dead. Well, again fortune is against us. "We 
 left here on Saturday morning for Centreville. The bridge 
 across the Shenandoah broke, and luckily delayed us. Back 
 we were ordered at midnight of last night. An angry, bit 
 ter, well-fought fight followed, yesterday afternoon, upon 
 an artillery duel which had occupied nearly all day. So 
 little did any one know it was coming, that General Banks 
 went up to Harper s Ferry at three, P. M., and the sharp 
 fight commenced at four ! The battle-ground was that 
 on which my pickets had been posted until we left town. 
 It seems to have been an exhibition of dogged courage by 
 unruled and undisciplined soldiers. 
 
 " So we go The lees and flatness of the sparkling 
 
 goblet of victory are all that we taste. Jackson and Ashby 
 are clever men. We are slow-w-w ! " 
 
 "WINCHESTER, VIRGINIA, March 25, 1862. 
 
 " A blue March morning, and I have just returned from 
 the battle-field. A sight to forget. I question much if 
 description of it is well. You may fancy the scattered dead 
 through woods and over hillsides. 
 
 " The oddest coincidence of blunders brought about a 
 battle. 
 
 " Banks s division had left Winchester on Saturday noon. 
 Shields drew back from Strasburg, and had gone on the 
 back of the town (Winchester). No forces or pickets were 
 on the Strasburg road on that side of the town. 
 
 " On Saturday evening there was some skirmishing by 
 Ashby s cavalry, in which Shields was wounded. It seems 
 that Jackson had been informed that every one had left the 
 town. His skirmish on Saturday failed to develop any large 
 force. 
 
 " On Sunday, therefore, the fight commenced by our and 
 their artillery. It continued through the day till half past 
 three without any development of infantry on their side. 
 At three o clock General Banks, supposing it to be only 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 217 
 
 Ashby s cavalry, with a few pieces of artillery, continuing 
 his system of annoyance, went to Harper s Ferry. But, at 
 about four o clock, Jackson, with his infantry, attempted to 
 turn our right by sending round over a ridge through the 
 woods. No one was in command of our forces. Colonel 
 Kimball, the ranking colonel of Shields s forces, was, so to 
 speak, in charge of the battle. Shields was abed in town. 
 The staff were galloping about, and the soldiers fought like 
 heroes. General Banks had gone to Harper s Ferry. Jack 
 son had put his artillery on the commanding ridge on his 
 left. He had two regiments of infantry behind a stone-wall 
 in rear of the batteries. Here was the sharp fighting. We 
 sent round our force to turn their position and take their 
 artillery. It was done. Then they tried to retake it. Their 
 force came over a hill, and fired over our men. Our men 
 shot up at them and took them in the head and breast. The 
 woods are torn and shivered by musketry and cannon. 
 Thirty men in Confederate homespun, shot in the head, lie 
 in this wood. Their upturned faces seemed to me looking 
 reproach at Jeff Davis. The fight lasted till dark, when 
 Jackson withdrew, leaving us the field and two pieces of 
 artillery and five caissons ; leaving also his dead and 
 wounded and two hundred and fifty prisoners in our 
 hands. 
 
 "Both parties had blundered, they, by acting on our 
 retreat ; we, by acting on his retreat. The upshot is a 
 glorious victory for us. I have just come back from a sad 
 visit to the hospitals ; seeing wounded, dying, and dead, 
 Rebels and Loyalists lying side by side, and receiving equal 
 care. The loss on our side is one hundred or more killed, 
 and two to three hundred wounded. Theirs is nearly three 
 hundred killed and probably five hundred wounded. Every 
 thing shows how easy it is to kill a great many men by 
 shooting very often ! Jackson s men, as some of their 
 wounded state, came down expecting to find Winchester 
 empty. They consider our actual movement a feint. Some 
 
218 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 of their troops marched two days, and came into action late 
 in the afternoon. I give you my impressions. 
 
 " We go to Strasburg to-morrow. We shall meet no 
 opposition. We left a door open, and in came Jackson. 
 We must not leave another door open. That s the moral 
 of this story. The sheer fighting of our men saved us. 
 Good by. Love to all at home." 
 
 "CAMP BIVOUAC, NEAR STRASBUKG, March 27, 1862. 
 
 " I must write you a line from our hillside-wooded bivouac 
 this bright morning. 
 
 " On Tuesday night we made a forced march toward 
 Strasburg from Winchester, to be within supporting distance 
 of General Banks. We marched till one o clock in the 
 morning, and then the regiment laid down by the roadside, 
 and built fence-rail fires and rested. Yesterday morning 
 we came on to Strasburg, where we now await the future. 
 Jackson is supposed to be at Mount Jackson, about fifteen 
 miles from here, with part of his force. The force was very 
 much demoralized by the defeat and loss. Their killed, 
 wounded, and prisoners cannot be less than one thousand ; 
 three hundred will cover our loss, killed and wounded. At 
 our bivouac, night be/ore last, a few of the officers, including 
 the Colonel and myself, took possession of a comfortable 
 house, and slept in the best room. The next morning at 
 breakfast, when the master was out of the room, the mulatto 
 that served us said : Jackson took breakfast here day before 
 yesterday. He told massa that he could not make much, 
 but he should try you again. But he won t, think I. As 
 we marched through Middletown yesterday, whose houses 
 are full of secession wounded, dropped on their march by 
 the retreating army, our band poured out its national music, 
 and there was a somewhat unfeeling sauciness in the swing 
 and tramp of the regiment over the way so lately passed by 
 the panic-stricken fugitives. At one house near which we 
 rested we found a poor Rebel soldier whom a shell had 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 219 
 
 overtaken in his retreat. One arm gone, one leg nearly so, 
 and the other leg mangled. Poor fellow ! his life will be 
 short. By his bedside was a Union soldier of the Seventh 
 Ohio, the regiment that suffered most, on our side, in 
 the fight. That soldier was nursing and tending the pool 
 wounded man as affectionately as a sister. He had been 
 with him a day, and said he was afraid of being court- 
 martialled if he stayed ; but, said he, I can t leave him 
 alone. Our surgeon, who has been behaving like a trump, 
 gave him a certificate, and advised him to stay. We left 
 him dressing the hopeless wounds. 
 
 " At one of the hospitals in Winchester, a Rebel soldier, 
 wounded and suffering, said : ( How kind you are to us ! 
 They told us that you would kill us, and kill all the 
 wounded. Such are some of the lies with which they keep 
 their men up to the fighting point. The women of Win 
 chester began by bringing delicacies for their wounded, as 
 they said. After a day, however, when they saw our equal 
 kindness, they began themselves to get a little humanity, 
 and to work for all. 
 
 " There is a base and brutalizing influence at work here 
 in Rebeldom, beyond all question. 
 
 " The scenes through which I have passed for the last 
 three days remain with great vividness. Take the Win 
 chester court-house as an example. You enter the door, 
 and the vestibule is full of dead. You go in farther, and 
 the court-room is a hospital, in which every variety of 
 wound and suffering meets your eye. 
 
 "It is little enough that human aid can do in such a 
 place, but it is wonderful to see the comfort that is given by 
 human sympathy. I noticed one boy shot through the jaw 
 and the back. He had been looking intently at the man 
 next him, when he began some inarticulate address to him. 
 Through the wounded and disturbed jaw he at last made 
 himself understood as saying, Do you feel better ? Yes, 
 said the man next him. Glad of it, he worked out, with 
 
220 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 difficulty, and lay back, having imperfectly expressed the 
 sympathy which most men would hardly think he had to 
 spare. Young Lieutenant Crowninshield was walking 
 through one hospital. Hallo, Crownie, how are you ? 
 said a wounded Rebel soldier. On looking at him, he 
 recognized a classmate, named Washington, who left Cam 
 bridge a year ago. He was a private in Jackson s army. 
 His mother and sister were living near Charlestown. The 
 poor fellow was wounded through the lungs probably mor 
 tally. What a war this is ! 
 
 " An odd incident occurred to one of our regiment. Pri 
 vate Alexander, of Company E, was taken prisoner last 
 summer at Maryland Heights, and brought to Winchester 
 and thence to Richmond. He was released with Colonel 
 Lee, and sent back here to rejoin his regiment. He arrived 
 in Winchester just after we had left for Centreville, but 
 just in season for the battle. He went out on to the field, 
 took a gun from some fallen soldier, and went in with all 
 the bitterness of a six months captivity. At the close of 
 the engagement he returned to Winchester, bringing with 
 him two Rebel guns and a Rebel prisoner as his booty and 
 revenge. He thinks he is even with them now. Captain 
 Cary s company was on duty in Winchester, at the time 
 of the battle, as part of the provost guard. Three of 
 the men got leave of absence in the afternoon and went 
 out to the field, picked up guns, and sailed in. The last 
 that is known of one of them is, that he was seen in the 
 advanced line of skirmishers fighting like a hero. The 
 others, after the battle, returned. So you see our regiment 
 had only four men in the engagement. I believe we remain 
 here quietly to-day. We are on the line of the Manassas 
 Gap railway, but the bridges have been burnt. I think that 
 we shall not be attacked again, nor be able to overtake 
 Jackson, whose movement was against a divided force, and 
 unsuccessful at that. He will not, therefore, assail us when 
 we are reunited. It is a splendid, mild morning. We are 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 221 
 
 camped in a pine and cedar grove facing the south, and 
 resting after a march of sixty-five miles in four days, awful 
 hard work with very little glory. Those fellows who are 
 put on cars and then shipped to an exploit, with no service 
 in the field, are lucky men. Ours is the labor and heat of 
 the day with no penny as yet. The eleventh-hour men are 
 getting their pennies first ! Will there be any left for us ? 
 Who knows ? Love to all at home. I am writing on your 
 little portable writing-case, which is a convenience. Your 
 letter of the 20th was received last night." 
 
 "CAMP FOUR MILES BEYOND STRASBDEG, March 28, 1862. 
 
 " I had just finished my letter yesterday, and started to 
 mail it, when I was turned back by a hurried order to 
 4 march at once. Our long roll was beating as I got back 
 near camp, and in a few minutes the line was formed and 
 the brigade in motion through Strasburg. It was reported 
 that our outposts were threatened by cavalry, infantry, and 
 artillery of the enemy. As we passed out of the town we 
 could hear the occasional sullen tone of a cannon. My in 
 credulity was proof, however, against any faith in an attack 
 in force ; so I was not surprised when the brigade was 
 halted a few miles from town, and ordered to go into camp, 
 and send back for its train. It seems that the enterprising 
 and clever Ashby, with his two light pieces of artillery, was 
 amusing himself and exciting us by a slight demonstration. 
 Ready for a rapid and elusive retreat at a moment s notice, 
 he would like to continue his game which he has safely and 
 pleasantly played so long. He is light, active, skilful, and 
 we are tormented by him like a bull with a gad-fly. We 
 chose a fine oak-wood for our camp, and at sunset were 
 quietly in tents again. This morning the sun rose warm 
 and glorious. The singing birds anticipated our reveille*, 
 and we have the sunniest, happiest camp to-day possible. 
 
 " I have had an opportunity to hear directly from Jack 
 son s camp yesterday. He is a few miles beyond Woodstock. 
 
222 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 He has no tents, and his wagons carry only subsistence, and 
 are ready to move at a moment s notice. His force is four 
 or five thousand men. He says, My men have no uniform, 
 they wear multiform. He keeps Ashby in his rear with 
 his cavalry and two pieces of artillery. His game is a win 
 ning one even when he loses. With his small force he 
 detains twenty thousand men in this valley. It seems prob 
 able that his attack on Winchester was in pursuance of a 
 positive order from Johnson to make the attack at all haz 
 ards, to arrest and detain our force from its intended move 
 ment to Centreville. In this aspect it was a success. In 
 my judgment our weakness was in turning back. The force 
 left behind was large enough to take care of this valley. 
 But, indeed, it seems as if we had no plan and no courage 
 or decision. Vacillation is our name. We cannot take 
 Jackson. If we mean to hold the valley, we should establish 
 our force in position to do so, take the rest to Centreville, 
 and thus perform our part in the campaign. The life that we 
 have led for the week past is a waste of men and of energy. 
 It quells the spirit of our troops, and destroys the prestige 
 of our leaders. My admiration and sympathy go with the 
 gallant Ashby, and the indefatigable and resolute Jackson. 
 With an equal force, the latter would have beaten us at 
 Winchester. Banks, in his general order, speaks of a sub 
 tle foe, a most unlucky word for a shrewd observer of our 
 movements. As soon as we give him a chance by dividing 
 our forces or exposing a detachment, Jackson may seize 
 the occasion for an attack. While we remain strong in 
 numbers or position, he will do neither, you may be sure. 
 I hope in McClellan s generalship, and am very glad father 
 gains faith in it. You will soon, as I know, hear of move 
 ments which show boldness, plan, and decisiveness. The 
 campaign is not to be a timid waiting on the movements 
 of the enemy. I hope events may soon take us to Centre 
 ville, where we can feel the direct grasp of McClellan s hand. 
 But I try to be patient, and to feel that they also serve 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 223 
 
 who only stand and wait. At present we are safe and com 
 fortable enough. God bless you all at home." 
 
 " CAMP NEAR STRASBURG, VIRGINIA, March 31, 1862. 
 
 " I was glad to hear, from your letter of the 23d, that 
 you have been doing something, and leading others to do, 
 for the wounded and suffering from Pea Ridge. You will 
 never appreciate, except feebly and by conjecture, the relief 
 and soothing of which you may be the happy cause. If, on 
 Monday evening last, you had gone with me into the court 
 house at Winchester, and seen the wounded and dying lying 
 upon the bare floor, heads and points, as the surgeon 
 expressed it, the victims at once of hunger and cold and 
 wounds, you would know what could be done with the heart 
 to do and the things to do with. 
 
 " Of those people who make a luxury of good works, and 
 are, so to speak, epicures in benevolence, I know not how 
 they could get so much for their money as by coming upon 
 one of these recent battle-fields. 
 
 " I rejoice in Howard s safety more than I can bring my 
 self to do in my own. While you are thinking of the bodily 
 security of your sons, there is one of them who is jaded and 
 depressed by the inglorious military drudgery to which the 
 best regiment in the service is hopelessly condemned. 
 
 " I have just returned from twenty-four hours picket duty 
 in a cold rain-storm. The enemy s line of pickets is about 
 a mile from our own. Ashby brought up his cannon, and 
 threw a few shells at our outposts. They whistled through 
 the air and fell near us, but were only bravado and insolence. 
 When we go on he will run faster than we can follow. 
 Meantime, the large movements and the decisive actions of 
 the Potomac campaign are probably taking place, and we 
 are stupidly trailing after an evanescent and puny, but reso 
 lute, foe. Bah ! One of our companies is in Centreville, I 
 suppose ; one at Snicker s Ferry ; the rest here, drying them 
 selves in the sun after twenty-four hours hard, wet, useless 
 
224 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 work, unrecognized and unknown. Whenever the division 
 wants a commissary, or an acting assistant-adjutant, or what 
 not, he is detailed from us. We have not a single full brig 
 adier in the whole corps d armee. Five brigades all com 
 manded by colonels, unorganized and undisciplined, except 
 a few regiments. 
 
 " Do you wonder that I get down in the mouth ? It will 
 soon be a year that we have been in service, with nothing to 
 show for it but the effects of the hardest possible work. 
 
 " You see I am in no mood for letter-writing. I write 
 because there is a mail going. I shall not write again till 
 I feel better. You need not feel concerned at not hearing 
 from me. I almost feel as if I would not take up a pen 
 again till I could speak of something else than the inglorious 
 details of our present life. Love to all at home." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR EDINBTTRG, VIRGINIA, April 2, 1862. 
 
 " I promised not to write you till our monotony ceased. 
 It has done so ; yet the story is a short one. Our regiment 
 started yesterday morning (April 1) to advance. A few 
 shots, as we started, from some of our Parrott guns, scattered 
 the enemy s vedettes, and five of our companies, deployed 
 as skirmishers, led the way. The other three companies 
 were the reserve, four hundred yards in rear, and were 
 under my command. The occasional interchange of shots 
 now and then, a rapid rattle of rifle-shots from our skir 
 mishers as they came upon a retreating line of the enemy s 
 cavalry, kept us in excitement till we got near Woodstock. 
 When we came over the hill to that town, spang! went a gun 
 from the opposite hill, and whirr-r-r came a shot over my 
 reserve ; the men ducked their heads a little, and I drew 
 them under the shelter of a bank. Here there was a rapid 
 interchange of cannon-shot ; and when we had shelled out 
 their battery, our skirmishers again advanced, driving their 
 cavalry before them. Just beyond the town we came upon 
 their burning camps, which they had set on fire and deserted. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 225 
 
 Again we advanced, and came to the Narrow Pass (so 
 called). Here the bridge over the creek was burning. Our 
 skirmishers put it out. 
 
 " The pass is a strong position for the Rebels, and we 
 were not surprised to hear another * spang, and the rushing 
 of more shells. Our batteries got into position, and there 
 was a brisk interchange of shots over our heads, the re 
 serve being in the hollow, and getting an occasional bursting 
 shell near it from each side. Here one of our skirmishers 
 came back shot in the breast. As luck would have it, how 
 ever, his brass plate turned the ball, so that he was not dan 
 gerously hurt. Again we went on till we came to this place. 
 Here both bridges, the turnpike, and railroad were burning. 
 We halted a little while before entering the town, and when 
 we pushed on the inevitable spang assailed us. Our skir 
 mishers drove the enemy across the river, and back into the 
 woods. Our batteries silenced theirs. One poor fellow, in 
 a regiment in rear of our reserve, had his head taken off by 
 a shell. These were the only casualties on our side. Here 
 we paused and went into bivouac ; and, after fourteen miles 
 skirmishing in heavy-trim knapsacks, all our tired regiment 
 went to sleep. This morning there has been a little more 
 shelling. We halt for supplies. We are in bivouac, our 
 tents having been left behind. 
 
 " I hope Jackson will make a stand, but fear he will not. 
 Yesterday was quite a brisk, exciting day. The regiment 
 did splendidly, as all agree. I am very well, and recovering 
 my spirits. Love to all." 
 
 " CAMP NEAR EDINBURG, VIRGINIA, April 4, 1862. 
 
 " We make life musical these hot sunny days with the 
 screeching whir of shells or the sharp buzz and sping of 
 rifle-balls. But the enemy keep at a respectful distance, for 
 the most part, and our own shameful mismanagement about 
 supplies, or some large wisdom affecting other forces, keeps 
 us quiet. Our tents came up yesterday, and we are now in 
 
 15 
 
226 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 camp again. This morning Colonel Andrews and I have 
 been out prospecting round, as they say in this country. 
 
 " The Rebel pickets are in plain sight, just beyond the 
 river, but there is no evidence of any force there, and when 
 we conclude to go on, on we shall go without difficulty. 
 Our advance to this point was made by our regiment in fine 
 style. The men skirmished over a distance of fifteen miles, 
 and did their work well. Neither the musketry nor the 
 artillery delayed or embarrassed our progress, which was as 
 rapid as an ordinary day s march. The impetus and stim 
 ulant of pursuit spurred on the march, over a difficult and 
 broken country. At the Narrow Pass, where the Shenan- 
 doah and a creek crossing the pike a little below almost 
 come together, but are kept asunder by a piece of rock, over 
 which the road passes with just the width of a carriage path, 
 was the sharpest conflict. It was mainly an 4 artillery duel, 
 as the phrase is. Our skirmishers had learned, however, 
 before this, that, to their deployed line, the shell, though 
 assailing the ear with terror, were sound and fury signifying 
 nothing. Their effect was aimed at the reserves or our ar 
 tillery, and it really had an unpleasant sound as it whizzed 
 or spanged near us. It is high time that being under fire 
 should be among our has beens. I am quite satisfied that 
 the order and discipline of the regiment will tell there as it 
 has everywhere else, and our recent experience is a proof of 
 
 it I suppose you must have read General Shields s 
 
 1 private letter about the battle at Winchester. A more bare 
 faced series of Irish romances I never read. The man actu 
 ally has the effrontery to connect his fortunate blunders 
 into a chain of shrewd stratagems, and with after-event 
 wisdom to glorify himself. The idea of a man in bed, witli 
 a broken arm, four miles from the field, not knowing of the 
 enemy s force or positions till four, P. M., directing and guid 
 ing a battle that commenced at once and closed in two hours ! ! 
 Pshaw ! It is like Sir Lucius OTrigger or Mickey Free. 
 
 " An attack having many of the elements of a surprise, 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 227 
 
 says General Banks in his order, praising the courage and 
 constancy of the soldiers. 
 
 " Och, sure, says our Irish general, turning with a 
 shrewd wink to the public ; < but it was a sthratagim o me 
 own. It s the clivir bye that I am, be dad ! Troth, but I 
 decaved em. And I, too, with only twelve thousand men 
 to me back, and only a brigadier. It s I should be major- 
 general at laste, then ye would see. Gineral Banks, indade ! 
 Och, he s a foine man intirely, and thrates me well. But 
 it s I that inwents the sthratagims ! 
 
 " Possibly there will be truth in history hereafter ; there 
 is none in the present record. 
 
 " I advise you to subscribe for or buy regularly the Con- 
 gregationalist newspaper. It contains our Chaplain s letters, 
 which I consider very clever and entertaining. 
 
 " Is it not about father s birthday ? At any rate, I may 
 wish him a happy return next year, and may I be there to 
 see." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR EDINBURG, April 6, 1862. 
 
 " It might be a June morning, by its sunshine and warmth. 
 This broken valley, the intervale of two sharp, dark-wooded 
 ranges of cuts, itself broken and furrowed by impatient 
 4 runs, as they call every water-flow in Virginia, might be a 
 fitting scene for a pleasure journey. All the air might a 
 Sabbath stillness hold, but another solemn influence is every 
 where present. Within a mile of our quiet camp the out 
 posts of two armies are watching one another. The cannon 
 and rifle tone break the silence now and then. If you go 
 down to our line of pickets, you will see the men watching 
 with eager though patient eyes for a good shot ; and as the 
 smoke breaks from some cover on the opposite bank of the 
 stream, you may hear a ball whistle near you, and some 
 sentry near by will send his quick reply. I had quite an 
 animated day yesterday. As field-officer of the day, I had 
 charge of our line of outposts. I found in the morning that 
 the Rebel pickets were quite importunate and vexatious. I 
 
228 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 also thought it important to change the position of some of 
 our pickets ; and, in order to do so, desired to reconnoitre 
 the ground. I was soon interrupted in my quiet use of my 
 field-glass by the whistle of bullets following the crack of 
 rifles. The devils had probably worked down through the 
 ravines. I moved my horse quietly under cover of a small 
 house, and could listen to the sound without exposing any 
 other sense. I soon changed my position ; and thought, 
 that, as the road went quite too close to the river, I would 
 take the field. But I had not gone far in that direction 
 when a rapid volley assailed me from behind a straw-rick, 
 and I was again led to turn back, more especially as some 
 of the shots seemed to be from some quarter quite too near 
 for security. That is the working of these Rebels. They 
 work themselves into safe covers, and pop away. Even their 
 artillery, from which we have three or four attacks every 
 day, is often so masked that even the smoke fails to disclose 
 it. I leaped my horse over a fence, and made arrangements 
 for my picket on a line a little less exposed. But you can 
 get some idea of the persistency of the devils. They seem 
 to act with a bitter personal hate and venom. In my ride 
 yesterday afternoon I came to a house about which there 
 was a gathering of curious soldiers. The poor woman was 
 in great trouble. The Rebel battery had just thrown two 
 shells through the house, shattering windows .and plastering, 
 &c. She was in terror, and her husband was away serving 
 in the army whose missiles had terrified her. * Pa is pressed 
 into the militia, said the little boy to me. i He s gone 
 away to New Market. Yet these people explain their mis 
 fortunes by our invasion, not by their rebellion. I wish 
 you d move your men away or stop their firing, said a 
 young girl to me at a farm-house. Our boys 11 shell the 
 house sure, if you don t take care. They cling to their 
 allegiance to their flying army, and why should n t they ? 
 It is made up of their brothers and sons and lovers. We 
 find very few men. Indeed, their practical conscription 
 leaves nothing male and able-bodied out of the ranks. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 229 
 
 " But I must not omit to tell you of my revenge on the 
 men who fired at me. The straw-rick stood just in front of 
 a barn. From the hill on which a section of our battery 
 was posted it was a good mark. On my return to that 
 point I directed a few shell to be thrown there. With lucky 
 aim two of them struck the barn itself ; and their explosion 
 had, at least, the result to scatter the men within, who were 
 seen to run back to the woods. 
 
 " We hear an odd story of an incident in the battle at 
 Winchester. It shows that the Second Regiment has a 
 name in this valley. Probably its long continuance here, 
 and the fact that a flag was given to it at Harper s Ferry, 
 have attracted Rebel attention to it. It is said by some of 
 the soldiers who were in the battle, that when one of the 
 Ohio regiments was broken by the Rebel fire, and faltered a 
 little, some of the Rebels jumped up from the corner of their 
 stone-wall and shouted, Where s Gordon s bloody Second? 
 Bring it on. A good deal of curiosity was also expressed 
 by the Rebel wounded and prisoners to know about the reg 
 iment, and if it was here. They might any of them have 
 seen it the other day if they would only have ivaited! 
 
 " It seems that the Rebels swell their numbers now by a 
 systematic and general compulsion. Such troops will only 
 be an embarrassment to them, I think. But their unscru 
 pulous tyranny spares nothing. An old free negro woman, 
 living in a small hut near our camp, says, They took away 
 my son last summer to Manassas, and I ve had a hard winter 
 without him ; but they left me my young son, a poor cripple 
 boy. The other day they come and took him, and my horse 
 and wagon to carry off their sick. He s a poor, weak boy, 
 and all I ve got, but they would n t spare him to me. I 
 can t help it, but I feel more kind to you all whom I never 
 saw than to them that I was born among. So she talked 
 on sadly of her troubles. 
 
 " Look at another picture of this free and happy people, 
 with their patriarchal institutions. Colonel Gordon stopped 
 
230 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 for the night at a house near Snicker s Ferry. The master 
 was out of the room, and a mulatto slave woman was busy 
 about the table. You are happy , are you not ? says Colo 
 nel G. l No, with a dull, whining, sad tone in her reply. 
 Your master s kind to you, is n t he ? 6 No, he sold my 
 mother fifteen years ago. That memory and loss had been 
 her life and sorrow for fifteen years, and it would last. 
 Pretty pictures of pastoral content ! 
 
 " Do not take my corn and grain, says Mr. Ransom, of 
 Charlestown, a courtly Virginian gentleman. I ve a large 
 family of negroes dependent on me, and I must have enough 
 left to feed them, and to take care of my horses and cows 
 till spring. My poor servants will starve. 
 
 " The army moves on ; a week passes, and Mr. Ransom 
 may be seen taking care of his single remaining cow and 
 horse. His dependent servants have taken care of them 
 selves, and Mr. Ransom is rubbing his eyes over the abrupt 
 lightening of his burdens. Let us clear our minds of cant, 
 pro or anti slavery. There is full as much of the former 
 cant as of the latter. 
 
 " It was Sunday when I began this letter ; it is now Mon 
 day. We make no movement yet. The Rebel shells have 
 not been thrown among us for a whole day ! so life is a lit 
 tle monotonous." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR EDINBURG, April 9, 1862. 
 
 " Scene, camp, snowing and raining, and blowing angrily ; 
 Time, Tuesday morning. The Major Second Massachusetts 
 Regiment enters his tent, shaking the dripping oil-skin cap 
 and India-rubber clothing. He discovers John, his John, 
 surnamed Strong i the arm, or Armstrong, digging a hole 
 within the damp tent to receive some coals from the hickory 
 fire that is trying to blaze without. John (loquitur). Soger- 
 ing is queer business, sir. M. Yes, John. J. But it s 
 hard, too, sir, on them that follers it. M. Yes, John. J. 
 It s asy for them as sits to home, sir, by the fire, and talks 
 about sogers and victories, very fine and asy like. It s 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 231 
 
 little they know of the raal work, sir. M. Yes, John. J. 
 T would n t be quite the same, sir, if they was out here 
 theirselves trying to warm theirselves at a hole in the 
 ground, sir. M. No, John. Then the coals are brought on, 
 and a feeble comfort is attained. The woods are heavy 
 without with snow and ice. In the afternoon I visit the 
 pickets, and spend a chilly and wearisome day. This morn 
 ing is again like yesterday. , who has shown himself 
 
 a trump in our recent exigencies, but who has certain eccen 
 tricities of manner and speech, came to breakfast this morn 
 ing, rubbing his hands and saying, < You would n t hardly 
 know that this was the South if you did n t keep looking on 
 the map, would you ? hey ? What say ? 
 
 " Since I wrote the above I have spent two hours in the 
 hail-storm visiting pickets. This, then, is an invasion of the 
 South, query ? 
 
 " We receive this morning news of the capture of Island 
 No. 10, and the defeat of Beauregard. 
 
 " Westward the star of victory takes its way. How 
 long can this thing last ? Is it not collapsing with occasional 
 throes of vigor, and are not these spasms the twitchings that 
 precede death ? I cannot say. But of one thing I am sure, 
 that it will be warmer farther south ; so I wish to go there. 
 It is a week that we have hesitated on the bank of this stony 
 creek ; soon we will move on. Our signal-station on the 
 neighboring mountain can see Jackson s camps beyond 
 Mount Jackson, and his wagons, with teams hitched, ready 
 to move at a moment s notice. We can advance again at 
 any moment, by a prolonged skirmish. 
 
 " I wish you all at home much better weather than we 
 have, and the same peace and quietness." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR EDINBDRG, VIRGINIA, April 11, 1862. 
 
 " DEAR D , Reduced in my finances : I have not been 
 
 paid since January 1. Reduced in my commissariat : we 
 are faring on soldiers rations, our best luxury being hard- 
 
232 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 bread scouse. Reduced in buoyancy : I have not heard a 
 shell whiz or a bullet whistle for three days. Reduced in 
 temperature : it has been snowing two days. Reduced in 
 
 aspiration : they have made a brigadier ; who now 
 
 would seek promotion? Reduced in ardor: rumor says 
 the Rebels are quitting Virginia. Reduced, in a word, in 
 everything, except size : the final reduction came, when, on 
 Thursday, April 10, I received, on this outpost of invasion, 
 a note from you out of the midst of such congenial and 
 agreeable companionship tantalizing me with the suggestion 
 that I should join you last Monday. I would I had the 
 wings of memory to do it with. But alas ! my face is turned 
 toward the south, and my future is in other hands than my 
 
 own We might have hoped to see you, had not the 
 
 perversity of General Jackson or the stratagem of General 
 Shields turned us back from Manassas, whither our steps 
 tended a fortnight ago. Well, there is a sequence, per 
 chance a wisdom, in events, that is better than our plans or 
 hopes. I cannot but rejoice that every day seems to bring 
 us nearer to a military success over this Rebellion. The 
 political solution of our difficulties is quite a more serious 
 embarrassment. I see no wisdom in the government, and 
 seem to myself to be fighting in the dark. One thing, how 
 ever, is clear, the more sharp and decisive our victory over 
 their forces, the easier will it be to re-establish a wise gov- 
 
 .ernment over them We have had a very hard time 
 
 since we came into the field in February, and cannot look 
 for much else at present." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR EDINBURG, VIRGINIA, April 13, 1862. 
 
 " MY DEAR MOTHER, We have been stirred by the 
 news from Grant s and Buell s armies since I wrote, and 
 even more, perhaps, by the attitude of McClellan s forces 
 near Yorktown. This letter can hardly have a rapid flight 
 enough to reach you as soon as decisive news from the Army 
 of the Potomac. I hope large results ; yet, in doing so, I 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 233 
 
 must shut my eyes to everything around me, torpid as it is 
 with the paralysis of incapacity, shall I say ? or mis 
 chance ? To-day we obey the order of the War Department, 
 and give thanks for our victories. The regiment will shortly 
 be formed for that purpose. The time is a fitting one. It is 
 the anniversary of that sombre Sunday of the dishonored 
 flag which brought us the news of the fall of Sumter. It is 
 also a fit time for McClellan s coup de grace. I received 
 yesterday your copy of Howard s letter from Pea Ridge. 
 Its clear description of what he saw and heard and did there 
 is very interesting. After all, I was wiser for him than for 
 myself, and urged him to go to the field where victory has 
 come to be almost monotonous. 
 
 " Our life here since I wrote is full of emptiness. Picket 
 duty and occasional shelling. Now and then I go down and 
 let the enemy s pickets fire at me, just by way of keeping up 
 the illusion of war. One of our pickets the other day got 
 hit, but the miss is the rule. Out of this nettle safety 
 we will pluck the flower danger one of these days, but not 
 yet 
 
 " Since I laid down my pen our service has taken place. 
 I watched the faces of the men, and missed the light which 
 gladdens them whenever they are called to action. Veterans 
 in everything but conflict, it only quickens their impatience 
 to hear of other achievements. 
 
 " We shall stay here some days longer, I think. Sub 
 sistence, clothing, transportation, all limp and halt and 
 stagger. 
 
 " We are the most timid and scrupulous invaders in all 
 history. It must be delicious to the finer feelings of some 
 people to watch our velvet-footed advance. It keeps me in 
 a state of chronic contempt." 
 
234 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 LETTERS FROM BIVOUAC NEAR NEW MARKET, YA. CAMP BE 
 TWEEN NEW MARKET AND SPARTA. CAMP NEAR HARRISON- 
 BURG. IN BIVOUAC, OPPOSITE NEW MARKET. 
 
 "BIVOUAC NEAR NEW MARKET, VIRGINIA. 
 Raining from the East. Easter Sunday, April 20, 1862. 
 
 " "T OOKING back, it seems an age since we dwelt peace- 
 
 |_J fully in the wooded camp near Edinburg. It was 
 Wednesday night that our marching orders came. On 
 Thursday morning at a quarter before two we had reveille, 
 and marched before light, under a pale moon, toward Mount 
 Jackson. 
 
 " Shields s division had gone on in advance. The day 
 was a glowing one, and the valley spread itself out before us 
 like a garden in its fresh green. 
 
 " After a short halt at Mount Jackson, which is a town, 
 and filled with evidences of Rebel occupation, such as large 
 hospitals, one of them unfinished, we were ordered to march 
 round to turn the enemy s left. 
 
 "Our path was a rough one, through a river, over rocks, 
 and through deep mud, on, on, on. We heard occasional 
 cannonading over toward the centre, where Shields s force 
 remained drawn up in line of battle, to await our tedious 
 circuit. The day was long and hot ; the artillery labored 
 over the almost impassable road. I went on in advance, 
 with some pioneers to aid a little by removing obstacles. As 
 we passed through the little village of Forrestville, a party 
 of young girls sang Dixie to us. I bought a loaf of bread 
 there of a woman, and paidher five cents in silver. It s 
 too much, said she. 4 No, said I. i It s more money than 
 I ve seen for a year, said she. On we go. We have got 
 round the enemy s position. It is dark ; too late to ford the 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 235 
 
 North Fork of the Sheiiandoah to rejoin the rest of the army, 
 who have now entered New Market, which Ashby even has 
 left. Tired and foot-sore, we lay down to sleep in the woods. 
 Marching for eighteen hours, and such marching ! the biv 
 ouac, in the warm, pleasant night is a luxury. The next 
 morning we start again, and ford the Sheiiandoah, and get on 
 to the turnpike at New Market which we had left at Mount 
 Jackson. The Sheiiandoah is swift, and up to one s middle. 
 Fording is an exciting, amusing, long task. It is finished 
 at last, and the brigade, led by our regiment, moves through 
 the town of New Market to the saucy strains of Yankee 
 Doodle. We move two miles beyond the town, and bivouac 
 on a hillside. Our tents and baggage are all sixteen miles 
 back, at Edinburg. 
 
 " It is late Friday evening before we get bivouacked. 
 Many of the men are barefoot and without rations. Satur 
 day morning it begins early to rain, and ever since we have 
 been dripping under this easterly storm. Luckily, Mrs. 
 Williamson, whose husband is with the other army/ and 
 who has a fine farm and a roomy, old-fashioned, ante-Revolu- 
 tion-built house, surrounded by generous barns and out 
 buildings, swarming with negroes of every shade and size, 
 luckily, Mrs. Williamson and her six little boys and her 
 aged uncle need our protection ; and, in return, she gives 
 us a shelter for our meals, and so alleviates the adversity 
 which had reduced our commissariat to starvation. Mr. 
 Williamson is a major in the Rebel army. His wife is true 
 to him and to Virginia. The eldest boy, of fifteen years, is 
 a stubborn little traitor. Mrs. Williamson invited us all to 
 tea on the first night of our arrival. She spread a most 
 bounteous meal for us, but hardly sweetened it by the bitter 
 ness with which she snarled at our invasion. The general 
 statement that these people are traitors, and deserve all the 
 horrors of civil war, is easy ; but the individual case, as it 
 comes up under your eye, showing the helpless family in 
 their dismay at our approach, can hardly fail to excite sym- 
 
236 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 pathy. When we came into New Market on Friday, we 
 met General Banks in high spirits. He complimented our 
 march, and said the Secretary of War had telegraphed 
 thanks to us, &c., &c., that when our movement was per 
 ceived, the rear of Jackson s force fled hastily, &c. My own 
 opinion is, and was from the beginning, that the movement 
 was all nonsense, and pretty expensive silliness for us. 
 
 " Jackson was ready to run, and began to do so as soon 
 as we began to move. But perhaps we hastened him a 
 little. Here we are, eighty miles from our supplies, all our 
 wagons on the road, our tents and baggage behind, our ra 
 tions precarious, and following a mirage into the desert. 
 Well, the Secretary of War is much obliged to us for the 
 brilliant and successful operations of this day. So we ought 
 to be happy, and to conclude that glory looks very different 
 to those who see it close to. Our news now is, that Jackson 
 is hurrying to Richmond as fast as possible. We are prob 
 ably Pattersonized, as General Shields calls it, and shall be 
 too late for any decisive part in what is now expected as the 
 great battle of Yorktown. Still I do not regard it as impos 
 sible that the wheel may so turn as to give us a little con- 
 spicuousness in the next movements. It is our misfortune 
 not to be in a condition of outfit, transportation, and supply 
 to enable us to do much. We are working, too, on a fright 
 fully long line of operations. Still hope. 
 
 " Aha ! the clouds begin to break. I wish you a pleasant 
 Easter Sunday. One thing at least we may hope for, that 
 before another Easter day we may be at home again ; for 
 this Rebellion will die rapidly when we hit its vitals. They 
 have not been hit yet, however. 
 
 " I wish you could look at our regiment under rude shel 
 ters of rails and straw, and dripping in this cold storm. Our 
 shoes and clothing came up yesterday, and this morning we 
 are giving them out. So we are not wholly helpless yet. 
 
 " The first night that we bivouacked here a charge was 
 made on our New York battery. A desperate cow swept in 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 237 
 
 upon it, and actually knocked down and trampled on two 
 men before it could be shot. It was a gallant charge ! You 
 need have no anxiety about us. We are safe enough. Our 
 future is uncertain, and we are wet." 
 
 " CAMP BETWEEN NE\V MARKET AND SPARTA, 
 Thursday, April 24, 1862. 
 
 " When I awoke on Easter morning in my dripping biv 
 ouac, and looked gloomily at my boots, which, with studied 
 carelessness, I had so placed as to receive the stream from 
 the flimsy shelter over me, and which were full of water, 
 when, more than all, I poured the water out and put the 
 boots on, I might have known, by intuitive conjecture, that 
 our forces would the next day occupy Sparta. The storm 
 did not abate until Tuesday, and it left us in hopeless mud 
 and rain. Our advance is now in Harrisonburg, and Jack 
 son s force has crossed the gap, and is on its way to Gor 
 don sville. < The Valley is cleared ; and General Banks has 
 been enjoying himself with a general order of congratula 
 tion, back-patting, and praise, worthy of little Jack Horner, 
 and his thumb and his plum. Still, one fact is stubborn. 
 Our column has penetrated Virginia one hundred miles, and 
 is very near to important Rebel lines of communication, and 
 has achieved important results with reasonable promptness 
 and without disaster. 
 
 " We hear to-day that the freshets of the Potomac and 
 Shenandoah have combined to carry away the railroad bridge 
 over the Potomac at Harper s Ferry. This will interfere 
 with our supplies, and, I think, hasten our course over the 
 Blue Ridge towards Gordons ville. 
 
 " I have enjoyed for the past two days the slight allevia 
 tion of weather. Tuesday afternoon the Colonel and I rode 
 through the gap opposite New Market, over the Massannattan 
 Mountain, into the other valley which is bounded by the 
 Blue Ridge. The road is a graded, gradual ascent, winding 
 in and out. At its summit is one of the signal-stations, 
 
238 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 whence the view into both valleys is very fine, and, under 
 the changing, clouded, and showery light, the scene had a 
 great charm, heightened by the camps which were scattered 
 over the green fields of the valley. We descended into the 
 other valley to visit the Third Wisconsin, a regiment of 
 Colonel Gordon s brigade, which is stationed there to protect 
 two bridges over the South Fork of the Shenandoah and 
 another stream. 
 
 " Yesterday was a bright, breezy, sunshiny day, tempting 
 one strongly to out-door life, otherwise I should have 
 written you a word on my birthday. Colonel Gordon and 
 I drove down to Rood s Hill to examine the position which 
 Jackson occupied there. We found it of great natural 
 strength, with a river on either flank, and a broad, flat bot 
 tom, over which our approach would have been made. 
 
 " We saw one scene in the course of our ride which illus 
 trates the vile tyranny, oppression, and outrage which has 
 been practised by the Rebels here. A neatly-dressed woman, 
 with five little children, one in her arms, was crossing 
 the field. We stopped and spoke to her. ( Indeed it is, 
 said she, hard times for poor folks. Jackson took my hus 
 band off with him. They gave him his choice to go or death. 
 I expect him back, though, now that you ve got here. He 
 promised to run away the first chance. Comment on such 
 a volunteer system is unnecessary. I told you that we 
 were living near the house of Mr. Williamson, and took our 
 meals there. I am now writing in the parlor, which is 
 brigade head-quarters. The husband and father of the 
 family is off with the army, but his uncle, the owner of the 
 farm, an old man of eighty years, is here. He is an intel 
 ligent man. He heard John Randolph s maiden speech in 
 Congress at Philadelphia. He sat in Richmond in the Con 
 vention to amend Virginia s constitution with Madison and 
 Monroe. His farm here contains sixteen hundred acres, 
 and as he sees his rail-fences disappearing before our camps 
 he recalls how it looked in New Jersey years after Washing- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 239 
 
 ton s army had wintered there ; not a fence for miles. This 
 helps his philosophy a little, but he is a bitter Secessionist, 
 though his hope flickers under the blast of Northern invasion. 
 " One of the most amusing things connected with our 
 movement into this country is the constant and odd exhibi 
 tion of its effect on the negro. Day before yesterday our 
 pickets brought in six contrabands. They had fled from 
 above Harrisonburg, to avoid being drawn off with Jackson s 
 army. One of them was almost white ; another was of quite 
 mature years, and very much disposed to philosophize and 
 consider and pause over this emancipation question, and 
 act for the best. I must try to give you a snatch from 
 the dialogue between Colonel Gordon and the negroes ; but 
 I must leave out the brogue and laugh and aspect of the 
 men which made up the incomparable effect. After asking 
 them where they came from, &c., the Colonel, Well, why 
 didn t you go off with your master ? Ans. I did n t want 
 to go South. Q. The South are your friends, ain t they ? 
 A. No, dey is n t no friends to colored people. Q. Well, 
 what made you think we should be ? Did n t your master 
 tell you we wanted to steal you and sell you to Cuba ? A. 
 Yes, but we don t believe no such nonsense as dat. De 
 Norf is our friends. I ve heard all about de Norf, and I 
 never see black men chained together and driven off to de 
 Norf, but I have seen em, hundreds of em driven off Souf. 
 I d ruffer trust to de Norf, and I d like to try it. Q. Well, 
 but you can t work and take care of yourself, can you ? 
 Your master always took care of you, did n t he ? A. Bress 
 you, if de nigger don t work, who does ? De white folks 
 don t do no work. I ve hired myself out for five years, 
 made de bargain myself, and my master got de money. 
 Yah ! yah ! yah ! And they all laughed. Q. Well, you 
 want to go Norf, do you ? A. Yes. Then the philosopher, 
 who was named George, reasoned a little more about it. At 
 last the Colonel said : Well, you are free ; you can go 
 where you please. You ain t slaves any longer, unless you 
 
240 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 choose to go back. Now, what are you going to do ? Ain t 
 you going to do something ? ain t you going to turn somer 
 sets ? The negroes laughed and were exuberant. Turn 
 over, George, turn over, said the darkies ; and down the 
 old fellow dumped, and went heels over head on the floor 
 amid a general conviviality. 
 
 " That s what I call the practical effect of invasion. 
 Where the army goes, slavery topples and falls. For my 
 part, I enjoy it hugely. 
 
 " As I write this letter, two men are brought in. They 
 are just out of Jackson s army. They live over on the 
 Blue Ridge. A fortnight ago they were hunted into the 
 woods by cavalry, shot at, and caught and put into the 
 army. They say that the woods are full of men hiding in 
 the same way, and that the cavalry are hunting them out. 
 4 The South is fighting for independence, says Lord John 
 Russell ; the North, for empire. No man s liberty of 
 speech or person is interrupted, says Jefferson Davis. 
 
 " I believe I am fighting in God s cause against the most 
 diabolical conspirators, rebels, and tyrants in the world. 
 
 " The bright sun of yesterday dried the ground so much 
 that we had battalion drill, and I had the pleasure of drill 
 ing the battalion. This morning, however, this treacherous 
 climate again betrayed us, and it is snowing ! for all day, I 
 fear. 
 
 " I rejoice to receive your letter of April 14, just brought 
 in. It brings me news of Howard and William and home, 
 in which I delight. I hope William s forebodings are not 
 well founded, but McClellan must gather fruit soon or go to 
 the wall. Still, silence to all clamor against him, and let 
 us await the issue. I agree with Howard, that this military 
 life gets wearisome." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR HARRISONBURG, April 26, 1862, Saturday. 
 
 " Rain ! rain ! rain ! March ! march ! march ! What 
 a life ! We marched fifteen miles yesterday, in mud and 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 241 
 
 rain, to tins point, and got into camp at night in reasonable 
 comfort, but almost without rations, and now we are busy 
 with the miserable interrogatory -of what to eat ? 
 
 " Such is our experience. Colonel Andrews is again on 
 detached duty, and, for the past few days, I have been in 
 command. It is impossible to exaggerate the difficulty of 
 taking care of a regiment when the whole Quartermaster 
 and Commissary Departments of the army corps are in such 
 hopeless confusion and debility. 
 
 " No other army corps has the obstacles to contend 
 against of this kind that we have. At Yorktown they have 
 the sea, and the Western rivers bear supplies as well as 
 gunboats. Here our wagons cannot bring supplies enough 
 to last until they return from a second trip. We shall be 
 driven to forage from the country ; and I do not see any 
 system adopted wise enough and prompt enough for that 
 effort. But there is no use in croaking ; we shall get out 
 of the woods somehow, I suppose. 
 
 " Among other short supplies, we are wholly without 
 newspapers since a week ago. What is the news ? I hope 
 McClellan is silencing his opponents by silencing the enemy s 
 batteries. That s his best answer. 
 
 " Well, the first year of my military service expires this 
 week. It has been a busy one. I am willing to enter on 
 another, but I wish I could see the beginning of the end 
 more clearly than I can. We did n t think the Southern 
 Confederacy had a year s life in it a year ago. They have 
 illustrated the power of able and unscrupulous leaders, and 
 we have furnished some hints, at least, of the weakness of 
 feeble and scrupulous leaders. I am in such a trite and 
 moralizing frame of mind that I will spare you any further 
 prosing. 
 
 " We may go on to Staunton, and we may cross the gap to 
 Gordonsville. We can t stay here much longer, and I hope 
 my next letter may give you some guess at our future." 
 
 10 
 
242 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 " CAMP NEAB HARRISONBURG, April 29, 1 862. 
 
 " I believe I wrote you a short letter since our arrival 
 here. "Written in a northeast storm, perhaps it had a little 
 of the gloom of the sky that overhung it. Let me try what 
 brighter skies may inspire. Sunday morning last broke ; 
 yes ! broke, and the spell of weather which had held us so 
 long yielded at last. The snows which we found on the 
 field vanished. 
 
 " In the midst of our morning inspection an order came to 
 march at once on a reconnoissance towards Jackson s position 
 in the Swift Run Gap on the Blue Ridge. We got off at about 
 eleven o clock, with the Twenty-seventh Indiana Regiment. 
 It was our duty to support the cavalry and artillery under 
 General Hatch. We went out on the mud pike to Magau- 
 gheysville, or rather toward that euphonious town. Such a 
 road ! We toiled out eleven miles. The cavalry pushed be 
 yond Magaugheysville and had a brisk little skirmish, in 
 which we took two prisoners and lost one. The Rebels have 
 the bridge that crosses the Shenandoah full of brush and com 
 bustibles, ready to burn when we press them. It is reported 
 that Jackson is reinforced by a brigade or more, and that 
 he will make a stand in the gap. If this is so, perhaps we 
 may get a little fight out of him. But I am still of the per 
 suasion which I have always held. Our problem in this 
 valley has always been, the movement and subsistence of our 
 army. The enemy has always been a secondary consider 
 ation, though he has kept up a vigorous resistance. 
 
 " In the ripeness of time we must cross the ridge and find 
 ourselves close on the flank of that army that resists 
 McClellan at Yorktown. This is certainly the right way. 
 
 What politics or jealousy or a divided command may con 
 fuse us into blundering, I cannot say. 
 
 " We have reduced our baggage, and I send home a 
 trunk. The hard pan is what we come down to, and miss 
 only the opportunity to drive twice our force of Rebels from 
 any position they may take. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 243 
 
 " I rejoice in the capture of New Orleans, and believe 
 that the 1st of June will show the Rebellion crushed and 
 bleeding. 
 
 " Yesterday I was busy all day on outpost duty. On 
 Sunday our regiment marched twenty-two miles between 
 eleven o clock and sunset : good work. We have met one 
 misfortune since our arrival here. A corporal of Company 
 H, who was a capital man, and a good soldier, marched into 
 our present camp with the regiment, was taken sick the next 
 day of typlius fever, and died within forty-eight hours. 
 This morning he was buried, and I could not help thinking 
 how little of the soldier s reward he would receive, yet how 
 much he deserves. 
 
 " We are all well, and hoping to move on toward Rich 
 mond." 
 
 "!N BIVOUAC MASSANATAN PASS, OPPOSITE NEW MARKET, 
 May 6, 1862. 
 
 " A word with you in the rough confusion of our moun 
 tain bivouac. 
 
 " Sunday last I should have written, but being a little out 
 of sorts, put it off. In the afternoon we had an alarm, the 
 long roll beaten, and marched toward the front. The regi 
 ment spent the night by the roadside. At three, A. M., 
 started for New Market, in retreat. Marched all day in 
 oppressive heat and dust, delayed by baggage-trains and 
 batteries. Got into camp at eight, P. M. I was busy post 
 ing grand guards and outposts till eleven. At twelve, an 
 other alarm, and we marched again, foot-sore, hungry, weary, 
 in the dark, over the mountain pass. You should have 
 seen the sunrise from the head of the pass. To-day we rest. 
 We found the alarm a false one, owing to the stupidity of 
 
 General of Shields s division. Our work has been 
 
 awful and useless utterly. My soul is aweary so, indeed, 
 is my body. 
 
 " I could prose you a long story of our experiences ; but 
 to what good ? 
 
244 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 " I am well now. We bivouac again to-night. The 
 scenery is glorious, the weather fine. I have two letters 
 from you since I wrote. 
 
 " As to s secession friend, let him alone. Colonels 
 
 Corcoran and Wilcox are still in captivity ; so is Botts and 
 the Governor of North Carolina. Smooth no pillows for 
 traitors. 
 
 " Love to all. I am glad to hear such good news of Char 
 ley. I hope William is now lucky. Memphis will fall be 
 fore you get this. Hurrah ! 
 
 "CAMP NEAR NEW MARKET, VIRGINIA, May 9, 1862. 
 
 " After passing three days in bivouac on the other side of 
 the gap, we returned here last night, and went again into 
 camp 
 
 " Our cavalry made a brisk and bold charge the other 
 day. They are coming up finely under the new general, 
 Hatch. They actually brought in ten men wounded with 
 sabre-cuts ; a thing not before done in the war, and really 
 a most healthy indication. 
 
 " Our life in the woods on the mountain was listless, but 
 pleasant enough. I got a letter from Mrs. Ticknor, which 
 I have answered. I hope your funds will all be saved 
 against the wants which weather or battle will surely de 
 velop before autumn. It is a pity that your fund should 
 not do its utmost good, and in this direction that work can 
 best be done. 
 
 " Just now our own prospects are not such as to give us 
 much claim on home solicitude or benevolence. The Secre 
 tary of War has ordered us back to Strasburg. 
 
 " Shields, now a major-general ! takes his division across 
 the gap to McDowell. General Banks remains with two 
 brigades, one of them ours, at Strasburg. This is the pro 
 gramme. 
 
 " With that pitiful force to which Banks s army corps 
 is now reduced, and at that point fifty miles back of our 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 245 
 
 recent advance, we have no other hope or purpose than pro 
 tecting Maryland ! A proud sequel, is it not ? 
 
 " Of course all this is a severe trial to me, the severest, I 
 think, of my life. But equally, of course, I keep a cheerful 
 spirit, and mean to do my hest to the end. Whether the 
 whirligig of time has any revenges in our favor or not we 
 must wait to see. 
 
 " Service is obeying orders, and we are in service. Per 
 haps we shall make some effort to get into an active depart 
 ment as soon as things have taken shape. We certainly 
 shall if we can see any way to do so. It is rather hard luck 
 for the first regiment recruited for the war, is n t it ? 
 
 " We are having very bright, warm weather, and this val 
 ley is beautiful under it. On our night march through the 
 gap, we had sunrise just at the crest of the mountain. Both 
 the valleys lay beneath us in their morning bath of sunshine, 
 picturesque with camps and wheat-fields and villages. 
 
 " Yesterday the box arrived ; the blanket is just what I 
 want ; the stockings went right on men s feet 
 
 " I wait patiently for news from William. It may well 
 be that his opportunity will soon come or has come. 
 
 " It is a year since our camp life at West Roxbury. 
 What a different year from that to which we then looked 
 forward ! 
 
 " May the next year be a different one from that which 
 now appears before us. 
 
 " Love to all at home." 
 
246 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 BATTLE OF WILLIAMSBURG. VISIT TO WASHINGTON. GENERAL 
 BANKS S RETREAT. TAKEN PRISONER. RETURN TO REGI 
 MENT. 
 
 AT this time Major D wight received the news of 
 the battle of Williamsburg, in which his brother 
 William, then Colonel of the First Excelsior Eegi- 
 ment (New York Seventieth) was repeatedly and 
 dangerously wounded. 
 
 When, in the first accounts, he read that Hooker s 
 division, to which this regiment belonged, had " suf 
 fered severely on the left," he exclaimed : " My 
 brother William is either wounded or killed." 
 
 The telegraph soon brought him confirmation of 
 the truth of his prophecy. 
 
 He obtained leave of absence from his regiment, 
 and almost at the same hour that his brother reached 
 the hospital in Washington he was at his bedside. 
 
 As he listened with eager interest to the thrilling 
 account of the conduct of the officers and men of the 
 First Excelsior, he envied the opportunity so honor 
 ably improved, and coveted wounds which were 
 glorious in his eyes as the reward of bravery and 
 constancy. 
 
 In the absence of military exploit or achievement 
 on his own part, he took delight in observing that of 
 others. At this time he wrote exultingly of his 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 247 
 
 brother : " He behaved like a calm, bold, constant, 
 obstinate trump." 
 
 He now made an effort to obtain for his regiment 
 removal to an active department. Impatient of ab 
 sence from his post, he soon returned to the Valley, 
 where the opportunity was already on its way which 
 was to give to the regiment a permanent place in 
 history. 
 
 No single regiment did more for the credit of our 
 arms in General Banks s retreat before the over 
 powering force of the enemy than did the Second 
 Massachusetts Infantry. General Gordon, to whose 
 brigade it belonged, says, in his official report : 
 
 " Where all the regiments in my brigade behaved so well, 
 it is not intended to reflect in the least upon others in men 
 tioning the steadiness and discipline which marked the ac 
 tion of the Second Massachusetts, Colonel Andrews." 
 
 Of Major D wight s conduct on the occasion Gen 
 eral Gordon says : 
 
 " Major Dwight, of the Second Massachusetts, while gal 
 lantly bringing up the rear of the regiment, was missed 
 somewhere near or in the outskirts of the town. It is hoped 
 that this promising and brave officer, so cool upon the 
 field, so efficient everywhere, so much beloved in his regi 
 ment, and whose gallant services on the night of the 24th 
 instant will never be forgotten by them, may have met 
 with no worse fate than to be held a prisoner of war." 
 
 Many were the tributes to his bravery at this time. 
 Captain Quincy, of the Second Regiment, now Gen 
 eral Quincy, wrote of him : 
 
 " Our Major Dwight has won for himself the heartfelt 
 admiration of the regiment. His indomitable pluck and 
 
248 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 perfect sang-froid were beautiful. I watched him on Satur 
 day and Sunday with wonder and delight. Bullets and 
 death he utterly despised and ignored. In short, he is a 
 genuine hero." 
 
 The lamented Captain Abbott, of the Second, 
 wrote : 
 
 " His courage and coolness are worthy of all praise. He 
 walked about, apparently as unconcerned as if lounging on 
 Washington Street. His devotion to the wounded is sub 
 lime. He is my hero of the fight. The men never tire 
 of talking of him and praising him." f 
 
 Captain Cogswell, of the Second Eegiment, now 
 General Cogswell, in writing an account of the re 
 treat of General Banks s division, simply says : " Ma 
 jor D wight is the bravest man I ever saw." 
 
 No tribute affected him so deeply as that which 
 he received from a .wounded man of his regiment 
 whom he was endeavoring to cheer by telling him 
 how well he and his comrades had done in the fight. 
 The man looked at him with tears in his eyes, and 
 said : " Ah, Major, I m afraid we should n t have done 
 so well if it had not been for you." 
 
 Chaplain Quint, of the Second Regiment, wrote to 
 the family of Major Dwight at this time as fol 
 lows : 
 
 " I should not intrude now into your anxiety, your grief, 
 but because your son was, let us say is, so dear to us. He 
 had won the universal love of our regiment. Our hopes 
 
 * See remarks of Hon. Josiah Quincy at the meeting of the Suffolk Bar, 
 upon the occasion of the death of Wilder Dwight. Appendix III. 
 
 t See also remarks of Hon. Josiah G. Abbott upon the same occasion. Ap 
 pendix III. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 249 
 
 that Massachusetts will be proud of the late history of the 
 Second Regiment are clouded by the anxiety felt by every 
 man as to the Major s fate. Brought into constant personal 
 intercourse with the men, I have every opportunity to know 
 their feelings. He was always so attentive to the comfort 
 and welfare of the men, was such a friend to every soldier, 
 and was so useful to their needs, that no man could replace 
 him. They love him. 
 
 " He has been to me a kind friend, in my peculiar office, 
 and I have always relied greatly on his influence and help 
 in plans for the spiritual good of the men. His interest in 
 our public worship has been great, and it was but a few 
 weeks ago that we were together considering measures for 
 the special improvement of the regiment as to religious plans. 
 
 " I hope you have heard that he fell behind the column 
 coming out of Winchester by helping and encouraging along 
 a wounded soldier. 
 
 " You will know, of course, how nobly he commanded 
 the little band of skirmishers on Saturday night last, when 
 his small force he formed against cavalry and infantry with 
 entire success ; how his clear, cool, deliberate words of com 
 mand inspired the men, so that no man faltered, while in 
 ten minutes one company lost one fourth of its number." 
 
 An account of his command of the skirmishers to 
 which Chaplain Quint alludes is thus given in the 
 following extract from a letter of an officer of the 
 Second Kegiment, dated 
 
 " WlLLIAMSPORT, MARYLAND, May 29. 
 
 " Hardly were we out of town [Newtown] when the ene 
 my s cavalry and artillery dashed in with a tremendous yell 
 of triumph. They attacked us at once. We fell back with 
 out any hurry, firing all the time till we got to a little bridge 
 the other side of Cairnstown, when half the regiment made 
 a stand, while the other half got their knapsacks. The 
 
250 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 Rebels here closed right round us. They were so near that 
 we heard every order, and were able to make our disposi 
 tions accordingly. 
 
 " There was not a word spoken in our regiment, by officer 
 or man, above a whisper, and it was so dark that nothing 
 could be seen except by the flashes of our muskets. Finally 
 we heard the order given to the Rebel cavalry to charge. 
 A square was instantly formed in the road, and the skir 
 mishers rallied on each side. The Rebels came thundering 
 down the road, literally making the ground shake. Not a 
 shot was fired till they were within fifty yards of us, when 
 Major Dwight gave the order : Rear rank, aim ! fire ! load ! 
 Front rank, aim ! fire ! charge bayonets ! But the bayo 
 nets were not needed. Men and horses were rolled over 
 together, breaking the charge, sending them back in con 
 fusion, and changing the yells with which they came down 
 on us into groans and screams. This was the last attack of 
 their cavalry that night." 
 
 The following extract from a letter from General 
 Quincy, of a more recent date, indicates that Major 
 Dwight s command of the skirmishers was no less ap 
 preciated by the Eebels than it was by his own regi 
 ment. 
 
 It proves, too, that he made no empty boast when 
 he said of the regiment, some weeks before it was 
 called to action : " We miss only the opportunity to 
 show ourselves able to drive twice our force of Reb 
 els from any position they may take " : 
 
 "THE SECOND MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 "NEW ORLEANS, July 1, 1866. 
 " To THE EDITORS OP THE BOSTON DAILY ADVERTISER : 
 
 " To the survivors of the old regiment who were present 
 at its first baptism of fire in the midnight skirmish of Bar- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 251 
 
 tonsville, where, as rear-guard, it covered Banks s retreating 
 column, the following account of the affair, in Dabney s Life 
 of Stonewall Jackson, page 375, will be of interest : 
 
 " But as it (the column) approached Barton s Mills, five 
 miles from Winchester, the enemy, posted on both sides of 
 the road, again received it with so severe a fire that the cav 
 alry advance retired precipitately out of it, carrying the 
 General and his attendants along with them, and riding 
 down several cannoneers who had been brought up to their 
 support. So pertinacious was the stand of the Federalists 
 here that the Twenty-seventh, Second, and Fifth Virginia 
 regiments were brought up, and the affair grew to the di 
 mensions of a night combat before they gave way. 
 
 " The Federalists engaged, as above described, consisted 
 of four companies of the Second Massachusetts, deployed 
 as skirmishers on either side of the pike ; the rear of the 
 battalion being in column by platoon in the road. The 
 skirmish line was commanded by our brave and lamented 
 Major Wilder D wight. The company most hotly engaged, 
 and whose losses were heaviest, was Company I, commanded 
 by Captain, since Brevet Major-General, Adin B. Under- 
 w^ood. The regiment was unsupported by any other troops. 
 Its friends cannot but be satisfied with the enemy s account 
 of this, its first achievement under fire, three Confederate 
 regiments being brought against our skirmisli line of four 
 companies, and the affair growing to the dimensions of a 
 night combat before the well-remembered c cease firing and 
 4 retreat, at last rang out from Major D wight s bugler, and 
 was repeated, in varying cadence, along the line." 
 
 The following is Major Dwight s account of the 
 retreat of General Banks s division, as contained in 
 the journal which he kept in Winchester during the 
 week when, reported " missing," he was mourned as 
 dead. 
 
252 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 "JOURNAL. 
 
 " WINCHESTER, VIRGINIA, Friday, May 30, 1862, 
 Braddock Street, at Mr. Earnhardt s. 
 
 " The first news of an attack on Banks s column reached 
 the camp of the Second Massachusetts Regiment at Stras- 
 burg, Virginia, on Friday evening after parade (May 23). 
 The Third Wisconsin Regiment was despatched by Colonel 
 Gordon, commanding brigade, toward Front Royal, to protect 
 the bridges. At eleven o clock that night we were ordered 
 to pack wagons. After despatching our train we lay down 
 and spent the night in bivouac. No marching orders came. 
 It was understood by us that many of the other trains had 
 not yet gone toward Winchester. At or near ten o clock, 
 A.M., Saturday, the order came for us to march. As wo 
 passed head-quarters on the way to Winchester, it was re 
 ported that the Rebel forces were pushing forward direct 
 from Front Royal to Winchester, and we were hurried on, 
 as it was said, to meet them or anticipate them. When we 
 drew near the bridge over Cedar Creek, the battery was 
 ordered forward in haste, and it was said that part of our 
 train at Newtown had been attacked by cavalry. We pushed 
 forward, found the trains halted, and some evidences of 
 panic and disorder. We halted half an hour before reach 
 ing Middletown. Then pushed on again. The day, which 
 had been rainy and clouded, grew more clear and hot. The 
 march was through the trains, and a rapid push toward 
 Winchester. Donnelly s brigade was before ours. Between 
 Middletown and Newtown it became evident that our rear 
 was being pressed. The rear-guard had been composed of 
 cavalry and artillery. A large drove of loose horses over 
 took us near Newtown ; one of cattle soon came also ; the 
 wagons, also, were crowding the way. Still we pushed on. 
 At about two miles beyond Newtown General Banks ap 
 peared, and announced to Colonel Gordon that our advance 
 was in Winchester, and all quiet there. The evidences of 
 panic and pursuit in the rear had been rapidly multiplying, 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 253 
 
 and it had been reported that our train was cut at Middle- 
 town by a force coming by the Front Royal road. The 
 Twenty-seventh Indiana Regiment had been ordered to re 
 turn to the rear with a section of Best s battery at Newtown. 
 As soon as General Banks announced the entry of our force 
 into Winchester, he ordered the Second Massachusetts Regi 
 ment to the rear to protect the train. The regiment, jaded 
 by their march and fatigue, sprang to the duty. At Bartons- 
 ville, a little more than a mile this side of Newtown, we left 
 our knapsacks, and pushed on. 
 
 " As we came near Newtown, evidences of panic filled the 
 road, abandoned wagons, flying teamsters, &c. The regi 
 ment formed near the edge of the town. Two companies were 
 deployed as skirmishers on each side of the road. Two com 
 panies were ordered to support Best s section, and the rest of 
 the regiment moved into the town by the road by the flank. 
 They had just entered the town, when the enemy s artillery 
 from the other end of the town threw a few shells at them 
 with skill. The shell burst directly over the battalion. 
 Colonel Andrews ordered them within the yards on the right 
 of the road. The skirmishers arid reserve moved on, and 
 the rest of the regiment followed, keeping within shelter of 
 buildings. Before entering the town we had seen cavalry 
 on our right and left. The line of skirmishers was halted 
 in a hollow just beyond the town, and the reserves and bat 
 talion kept within the town. The artillery of both sides 
 kept up a rapid fire. It was, perhaps, five, P. M., when we 
 turned back. We held the position till sunset. At the 
 edge of the town, on a door-step, was a half-eaten pile of 
 corn. The man of the house said Ashby s horse was eating 
 there when we came into town. I fed my horse with what 
 was left. This was the only forage, I believe, taken from 
 the enemy. Before we withdrew from Newtown we set 
 fire to the abandoned wagons. It grew dark rapidly as we 
 withdrew. I had a detail of two companies, A and C, as a 
 rear-guard. One platoon of each company was deployed in 
 
254 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 the fields, on each side of the road. The reserves were 
 united within the road. The enemy soon followed our re 
 treat. As they came in sight of the burning wagons their 
 yells and shouts were demoniacal. Expecting an attack by 
 their cavalry upon the rear-guard, I prepared for it. When 
 we came near Bartonsville a halt was ordered, to pick up 
 the knapsacks. We could hear the yells of the men coming 
 on. Soon the sound of approaching horses was heard. The 
 growing darkness, confused by the glare of the burning 
 wagons, compelled us to trust our ears. I drew the line of 
 skirmishers into groups near the road, formed the reserve 
 into a square, and directed the three bodies, so formed, to 
 pour their fire upon the approaching cavalry at the command 
 from me. The cavalry came on. The fire was ordered and 
 delivered. The cavalry went back. 
 
 " Their advance seemed checked. I rode back up the 
 hill over which the cavalry had come, but could hear no 
 sound. It then became necessary to draw in and relieve 
 the rear-guard, to enable it to take its knapsacks. At the 
 foot of the hill on which we had been posted was a little run 
 which the road crossed over a small bridge. The rear-guard 
 was drawn in across that run, together with Company B, 
 which had come out to their support. 
 
 " Company I had been ordered to report to me as a rear 
 guard ; Colonel Andrews stating that he thought the pursuit 
 checked. Company I came down near the run to wait there 
 till the knapsacks should be taken and till the column should 
 move. Hardly had they got there when I could hear voices 
 beyond the run. It had been reported to me that orders 
 were being given to infantry. I heard a voice saying, There 
 they are ! there they are ! in the road ! As a few shells 
 had been thrown at us when we were in position beyond the 
 run, I thought the enemy might intend some such compli 
 ment, and I directed the company which was in column by 
 platoon to break back against the roadsides. The doubt was 
 soon scattered. A galling and severe infantry fire opened 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 255 
 
 on us. Company I replied at once, and with admirable 
 coolness and effect. In spite of their inferior numbers, and 
 of the wounded falling about, they kept their position and 
 maintained their fire. I sent back to Colonel Andrews for 
 support, and parts of Companies C and B in the clover-field 
 on the right of the road soon opened a fire that relieved us 
 speedily. 
 
 " Company I, however, had lost eight or ten killed or 
 wounded in this sudden and vigorous attack. 
 
 " We withdrew slowly, the column having now got in mo 
 tion again. The enemy pressed us only a little way ; then 
 all was quiet. When we came to a brick house our wounded 
 were carried into it, and a halt was ordered till ambulances, 
 which were sent for, could be brought back for them. 
 
 " I posted a line of sentries across the road and in the 
 fields, and posted the reserve of Company I within that line, 
 and the regiment was taking some rest, while Dr. Leland* was 
 busy dressing the wounded in the house. After about half 
 an hour the sentries reported sounds as of an advancing col 
 umn. Upon going back, I found that I could hear it, and 
 so reported to Colonel Andrews. Colonel Andrews ex 
 pressed an unwillingness to leave the wounded unless we 
 were compelled to do so, and ordered me to return again. 
 I did so ; and leaving word with my sentinels to fire at once 
 upon hearing or seeing anything suspicious, I was on my 
 way to report to Colonel Andrews that the enemy were cer 
 tainly approaching, when I was stopped by a fire from the 
 direction of the sentinels. Immediately a sharp and ex 
 tended line of fire opened from the enemy s skirmishers 
 close upon us. The column moved at once, as soon as it 
 could be got in order. 
 
 " Our sentinels and reserve from Company I stood their 
 ground under a second severe fire. Part of Companies 
 B and C were rapidly deployed, and we moved on in retreat. 
 Part of Company D, under Lieutenant Abbott, was un- 
 
 * Dr. Francis Leland, Surgeon of the Second Massachusetts Infantry. 
 
256 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 luckily left behind on our right, where they had been de 
 ployed as flankers. For a moment they were between two 
 fires, but the fact was discovered in season to avoid disaster. 
 We were compelled, however, to leave Dr. Leland and the 
 wounded prisoners in the hands of the enemy. The enemy 
 pursued us closely beyond Kernstown. Soon after passing 
 that village, I drew in the skirmishers, and followed the 
 column rapidly. We passed our cavalry picket at the toll- 
 gate. Between twelve and one o clock the whole regiment 
 lay down to a dreary bivouac just outside of Winchester on 
 the left of the road. 
 
 " I met Colonel Gordon on the road, and went with him 
 into town. He sent out his Adjutant, Lieutenant Horton, 
 to attend to the posting of pickets. We went to see General 
 Banks. I had only a few words with him. I told him the 
 nature of the pursuit, and intimated the opinion which I had 
 formed, that an attack would be made at daylight. I got 
 no orders nor any intimation of any plan or purpose for the 
 next day. I went back and lay down by a small fire for 
 about an hour. 
 
 " Soon after three o clock, A. M., Colonel Andrews re 
 quested me to go into town, to hurry out some ammunition 
 for our regiment. I saw Colonel Gordon, but could get no 
 ammunition. When I came out of Colonel Gordon s room 
 I met a messenger from Colonel Andrews, saying that an 
 attack seemed imminent, and there was no general officer 
 on the field. As I went back to the regiment I met Gen 
 erals Williams and Hatch, and gave them the message. I 
 then went back to the regiment. I found Colonel Andrews 
 and Colonel Ruger together. I said to the former : Ought 
 we not to take possession of that ridge ? pointing to the 
 one on the right of the road. Colonel Andrews said, I 
 have already selected it, but where is Colonel Gordon ? I 
 replied he was coming. The regiment was formed, and 
 Colonel Gordon, on his arrival, sanctioning the position, the 
 regiment moved by the flank, across the road, and up the 
 hillside. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 257 
 
 " We had just crossed the road when a Rebel regiment, 
 in line (Fifth Virginia), appeared on the ridge, showing 
 that they had anticipated us. 
 
 " As we moved up the hill Colonel Andrews told me to 
 ride forward, to examine the position. I did so. A fire 
 from some sharpshooters saluted me, and I could see a bat 
 tery and some regiments opposite the position that we were 
 advancing to occupy. Meantime, Cothren s battery opened 
 on the Fifth Virginia Regiment, and scattered them out of 
 view. The Second Massachusetts moved on to its position, 
 and took the line of a broken stone-wall, the right of the 
 regiment resting on the crest of the hill. The rest of the 
 regiments of the brigade formed on our left down to the 
 pike. The battery was posted on a rise of ground behind 
 our regiment. The Second Massachusetts was ordered to 
 lie down. Part of Company D was deployed on the right as 
 skirmishers. There was a warm fire of artillery and mus 
 ketry on our position. The three right companies kept up 
 a brisk fire on the battery and infantry opposite ; rising and 
 lying down again. Colonel Andrews and I dismounted. 
 We could see one of the enemy s guns deserted. The ene 
 my s pieces, I have since found out, belonged to the Rock- 
 bridge artillery. Our fire drove them from their guns, and 
 I have also heard that their loss at this point was consider 
 able. Soon, however, their fire ceased, for the most part, to 
 annoy us ; though their battery and ours kept up a rapid 
 interchange over our heads, with more or less effect on both 
 sides. 
 
 " I happened to notice one or two mounted officers of the 
 enemy pointing and gesticulating in the direction of our 
 right flank, and suggested to Colonel Andrews whether they 
 did not mean to send round a force to flank us. He seemed 
 to think it probable. There was a stone-wall on our right 
 and in front of our line about thirty yards or forty. Colonel 
 Andrews ordered Companies D and I to deploy forward to 
 that wall as skirmishers to protect that flank, and also to 
 
 17 
 
258 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 observe and harass any movement of the enemy like the 
 one anticipated. At about this time a sharp fire of grape 
 and spherical case, as I suppose, began upon the wall and 
 the field in rear of us. I have since found out that the guns 
 of the Rockbridge artillery were ordered to divide their fire 
 between this wall and the battery to prevent our pushing a 
 regiment up to the wall. 
 
 " I went forward to the wall, dropping occasionally, as 
 I saw the flash of the enemy s guns, to avoid their somewhat 
 importunate projectiles. It appeared that the expected move 
 ment had commenced. There was one piece of low ground 
 where the enemy s flank was exposed in their movement. 
 They then passed behind a wooded knoll which covered 
 them. Colonel Andrews ordered me to go to Colonel Gor 
 don to report the movement. I did so, finding him in a 
 hollow in rear of the centre of the brigade. He directed me 
 to return, and ascertain in what force the enemy were mov 
 ing. I went out to the wall, and ascertained that two or 
 more regiments had already passed. Our skirmishers were 
 exposed to a sharp fire at the wall. I reported the fact of 
 the number of the enemy moving on our right to Colonel 
 Gordon. He told me to tell Colonel Andrews to throw 
 back the right of the regiment, and he would send up a 
 force to support him. He also directed me to see that some 
 of the artillery moved forward and to the right to play upon 
 the enemy at this point ; I was busy attending to these mat 
 ters. 
 
 " One of Cothren s pieces was brought forward, our skir 
 mishers were withdrawn from the wall, the Twenty-seventh 
 Indiana and Twenty-ninth Pennsylvania moved up to our 
 right. I had dismounted to go down toward the wall, and 
 was directing the officer in charge of the piece where his 
 fire could be directed with most effect, when I heard a cry. 
 I turned and saw that the Twenty-seventh Indiana, which 
 had just opened its fire, had broken and was running. I saw 
 that the enemy were pouring up the hillside and round on 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 259 
 
 our right. .1 saw, also, that the Twenty-ninth Pennsylvania 
 had broken and was following the Twenty-seventh Indiana. 
 The enemy were coming on at a run, with yells, but not in 
 any regular order. The officer commanding the piece said 
 to me, What shall I do ? I have got no support for my 
 gun. Blaze away at em, said I. I shall lose my gun, 
 said he. Well, said I, you must do as you choose. I 
 turned and found that our regiment was withdrawing. I 
 could not see my horse anywhere, and so I followed on foot. 
 As we passed off the hill the enemy rose on its crest. Their 
 cracking and whistling fire followed us closely. I recollected 
 an unmailcd letter in my pocket, and preferring to have it 
 unread, rather than read by hostile eyes, I tore it up as we 
 went down the hill. A few of our men would turn and fire 
 up the hill, reloading as they went on. I delayed a little to 
 applaud their spunk. 
 
 " But the flight before me and the flight behind me are 
 not reminiscences on which I like to dwell. 
 
 " We passed down into the edge of the town. As I came 
 along, a young soldier of Company C was wounded in the 
 leg. I gave him my arm, but, finding that he was too much 
 injured to go on, advised him to get into a house, and went 
 on. The regiment was forming in line when I reached it. 
 Before I had time to go to the left, where Colonel Andrews 
 was, the regiment moved off again, and I followed. It now 
 became a run. A fire began to assail us from the cross 
 streets as well as from the rear. I turned in at the Union 
 Hotel Hospital to get on to the next street, but found the 
 same fire there. Just as I was near the edge of the town 
 one of our soldiers called out to me, Major, I m shot. I 
 turned to him, and took him along a few steps, and then 
 took him into a house. I told the people they must take 
 care of him, and laid him down on a bed, and opened his 
 shirt. I then turned to go out, but the butternut soldiery 
 were all around the house, and I quietly sat down. Under 
 which king, &c. A soldier soon came in and took me 
 
260 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 prisoner. I made friendly acquaintance with him. He 
 went with me for a surgeon for my wounded soldier, and 
 also to pick up the overcoat which I had thrown off in the 
 heat. I soon went down with my captor to the Taylor 
 House, where I found Colonel Bradley Johnson, First Mary 
 land Regiment, who took charge of me. 
 
 " As I came back through the streets secession flags were 
 flying from many of the houses ; the town was full of soldiers 
 and rejoicing. I found many of our soldiers prisoners in 
 the court-house yard. I was busy about the wounded, and 
 was allowed to go out to get a dinner. 
 
 " In the afternoon I went upon the field with some of the 
 prisoners of our regiment and buried our dead : two of our 
 own regiment and two from some other. They were buried 
 under the cedar at the right of our line on the hill, and I 
 read a portion of Scripture over their open grave.* 
 
 " In the evening I went up to the Academy Hospital, where 
 I found Major Wheat of Wheat s battalion, who took care 
 of me, and with whom I passed the night, and who treated 
 me with the utmost kindness and courtesy. 
 
 " The next morning (Monday, May 26) Major Wheat 
 took me, together with Colonel Murphy, to breakfast at the 
 Taylor House. There I saw Pendleton, of General 
 
 * Four years later, almost on the very anniversary of this burial, friends of 
 Major Dwight sought and found the consecrated spot. They were guided thither 
 by a man from the immediate vicinity, who, when asked if he remembered, on 
 Sunday afternoon, after General Banks s retreat in May, 1862, seeing a Union offi 
 cer with some of his men, under a Rebel guard, come out upon the hill yonder to 
 bury four Union soldiers, replied, " I should think I ought to remember it ; I 
 helped to dig the graves." The cedar had been recently cut down, but the stump 
 remained, and beside it were the four graves. The bodies had only the week before 
 been removed to a soldiers cemetery in Winchester, and those who visited the 
 spot stood, as Major Dwight had stood, over the open graves. The form of the 
 bodies was distinctly visible, and outside the graves were portions of the blankets 
 in which they were wrapped, the visor of one of their caps, and other relics of 
 them. Nearby was the "broken stone-wall," behind which the two of the 
 buried men belonging to the Second Massachusetts had perished, and within 
 sight were all the most interesting points connected with the battle and the 
 retreat. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 261 
 
 Jackson s staff, and through him sent in a request to Gen 
 eral Jackson. First, to see him ; this was refused. Second, 
 to send information, by a flag, to our friends of our number 
 of prisoners, wounded, and dead ; this was refused, on the 
 ground that General Banks, after the battle of Kernstown, 
 took no such step ; and, as the aid said, If it had not been 
 for our private sources of information we could have known 
 nothing of our wounded and prisoners. Third, for a parole 
 for our soldiers who were suffering from want of food ; this 
 was also refused on similar ground to the former. Fourth, 
 then for a parole for myself, to enable me to board at some 
 private house in Winchester ; this was granted. 
 
 " I went to the house of Mr. George Earnhardt, on Brad- 
 dock Street, where I had stopped when we were in Win 
 chester before. 
 
 " I was at the Union Hotel Hospital on Tuesday morning, 
 May 27, where our wounded were being collected, when I 
 was delighted to see Colonel Kenly, of the First Maryland, 
 from Front Royal, wounded with a sabre-cut on the head, 
 but not dead, as reported. The Colonel came with me to 
 Mr. Earnhardt s house, and has been with me ever since. 
 
 " On Wednesday, May 28, I attended the funeral of Ser 
 geant Williams, Company F, who died on Tuesday morning 
 soon after I left him. General Jackson gave permission to 
 eight of the Second Massachusetts prisoners to go out with 
 me as an escort for the burial of their companion. 
 
 " The number of killed, wounded, and prisoners of the 
 Second Massachusetts may be approximately stated thus : 
 killed, eight ; wounded, thirty ; prisoners, ninety. 
 
 " Our men have suffered from want of food, but only be 
 cause the Confederates had it not to give them. 
 
 " The wounded are doing well, and are in fine spirits. 
 Company I, especially, is in fine spirits. 
 
 " It should not be omitted in the record of the scenes of 
 Sunday, that, in the retreat through the town, citizens fired 
 from the houses upon our flying and straggling soldiers. 
 
262 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 " Within an hour after the Rebel occupation of the town, 
 Confederate flags were flying from windows, the women 
 appeared gayly dressed on the streets, with Confederate 
 colors, and wearing also little flags. The houses were vocal 
 with Maryland ! my Maryland ! and The Bonnie Blue 
 Flag ! 
 
 " There is little doubt, however, that the Rebel loss far ex 
 ceeded ours. The hospitals are crowded with their wounded. 
 They lost, also, many officers. Their wounded are much 
 more severely wounded than ours. I have heard that the 
 official reports show the loss on Sunday to be ninety-six 
 killed and one hundred and ninety-two wounded. 
 
 " I got, from conversations with various officers and sol 
 diers, certain interesting facts connected with the pursuit 
 and retreat. I inquired about the charge of cavalry near 
 Bartonsville. Who was it ambuscaded us there ? was 
 their inquiry. And it seemed, from further conversation, 
 that it was a serious interruption of their advance, and a 
 cause of loss to them. It led them to bring forward their 
 infantry, which gave us a fortunate delay to get our knap 
 sacks. At General Jackson s head-quarters I saw the Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel of the Fifth or Second Virginia Regiment. He 
 asked, with interest, who it was that was at the run near Bar 
 tonsville. I told him I had that honor. He said that lie had 
 three companies deployed there of his regiment, and he 
 added that he did not care to fight us again in the dark. 
 Privates of the Fifth and Second Virginia reported that 
 Jackson told them they should be in Winchester on Satur 
 day night. The Fifth and Second are from the neighbor 
 hood of Winchester, and were coming home. Some unex 
 plained cause led Jackson to hold them back at Newtown, 
 otherwise they would have attacked us there. 
 
 " In the battle on Sunday morning, it was Taylor s Lou 
 isiana brigade that went round to our right. Wheat s bat 
 talion was a part of that command, and he told me about 
 the movement. Jackson had a very large force, eight or ten 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 263 
 
 thousand men, moving on the pike. On our left was a part 
 of Swell s force, which engaged the First Brigade. One of 
 their regiments (a North Carolina regiment) suffered se 
 verely from the fire of the Fifth Connecticut ; but their 
 force swept into the town even before the Louisiana brigade 
 turned our right. 
 
 Jackson s forces were so jaded and worn down that they 
 could not keep up the pursuit. The infantry was halted 
 about four miles from town. The cavalry continued the 
 pursuit. The colonels of the infantry regiments kept send 
 ing word to Jackson that their men could not keep on. 
 Jackson had been marching his men without baggage, al 
 most without food, from Franklin, where he had engaged 
 Milroy. He crossed the Massanattan Gap at New Market, 
 kept up the Valley at Front Royal. The number of his 
 forces must have been between twenty and thirty thousand. 
 It consisted of E well s and Johnson s (Edward) and his own 
 command. They pushed rapidly on, and were promised that 
 they should go into Maryland ! 
 
 " The young soldier who took possession of me was 011 
 foot, but he told me he belonged to the Second Virginia 
 Cavalry. Where is your horse ? said I. 6 He was shot 
 last night when we were ambuscaded, was the reply. Then 
 I informed him that we shot him. 
 
 " To-night (Friday evening, May 30) there is every evi 
 dence of alarm and retreat on the part of our captors. We 
 are expecting every kind of good news, and hoping that 
 they will be too late to carry us off on their retreat. 
 
 " To-day (Saturday, P. M., May 31) they have loaded all 
 their wounded into wagons for transportation in their re 
 treat. 
 
 " Colonel Kenly and I have been paroled this afternoon. 
 Colonel Kenly s wound in the head improves daily. Most 
 of the prisoners, officers and men, marched off this Saturday 
 morning. 
 
 " I have furnished bread and some vegetables to our 
 
264 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 friends at the court-house every morning. Now that they 
 have gone, I fear that they will suffer, perhaps for want of 
 food. 
 
 " Lieutenant-Colonel Cunningham, Twenty-first Virginia 
 Volunteers, who has just taken my parole, tells me that his 
 regiment was on the hill opposite our position. 
 
 " Your battery was splendidly served, said he ; c and 
 your line of sharpshooters behind the stone wall on your 
 right picked off every officer of our regiment who showed 
 himself. Seven or eight of our officers were wounded by 
 them. We fired spherical case over the wall at them, and, 
 at last, round shot at the wall from the Rockbridge ar 
 tillery. 
 
 "Saturday evening, May 31. The streets are quiet to 
 night. We await events. 
 
 " The parole under which I have been quietly living at Mr. 
 Earnhardt s since Monday involved only this restraint : con 
 finement to the corporate limits of Winchester, and the duty 
 of reporting every morning at ten o clock at the office of 
 the Provost Marshal. We have fed on rumors, speculations, 
 fears, hopes, falsehoods, and sensations, but have felt none 
 of the constraints of captivity. The parole which I have 
 given to-day is, not to serve till exchanged, and I may go 
 at large. 
 
 " Mr. Earnhardt, a big Dutchman, who has lived over 
 seventy years, as he says, just for good eating, returned 
 from market Wednesday morning. No market, says he. 
 1 Butter forty cents, eggs twenty-five, lamb twenty ; and 
 all because the Confederates is here. I could ha sot down 
 on the market-steps and ha cried, as sure as you sit there 
 in that there cheer. To-night his nervousness has reached 
 that point that he has gone to bed a most sick and down 
 hearted. He is a Union man. I was born a Union man, 
 I have always been a Union man, and a Union man I 11 die, 
 and the Devil can t make nothing else of me. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 265 
 
 " Sunday noon, 12 M., June 1. We have been listening two 
 hours to the sound of cannon in the direction of Strasburg or 
 Front Royal. A report comes in, that Milroy camped at War- 
 densville Friday night. Another now comes, that Shields and 
 Milroy are between Middletown and Newtown, and Gustavus 
 Smith is in their rear. Quien sabe ? What a week of rumor it 
 has been ! First Ewell was at Bunker s Hill to cut off Banks ; 
 then our troops had crossed the river ; Wheat was in Hagers- 
 town ; the bridge at Harper s Ferry was burned ; then Cooper 
 and Dix were in Charlestown with large force ; then Shields 
 was at Front Royal ; then Richmond was taken ; then we were 
 repulsed ; then Banks was within four miles of town ; then 
 Fremont was in their rear, <fec., &c., &c. We speculate, 
 discuss, study the map, <fec. This morning a scout has been 
 sent out towards Martinsburg, to General Banks, to say that 
 nothing but a thin veil of Stewart s cavalry covers this town. 
 We wait the careful advance of some Federal flag from 
 somewhither. 
 
 " Sunday evening. A thunder-storm is sharply rattling 
 over us. Hope is still deferred. The sound of cannon 
 hushed at about noon. Rumor says, Milroy has been driven 
 back, and Jackson is pushing beyond Strasburg. It adds, 
 that he orders hospitals to be prepared for his wounded 
 here. No news from our front. A foolish doctor from 
 the hospital tried to fire up the engine to go to Charles- 
 town, but was prevented by the citizens, with whom he 
 has had some altercation. A guard is now placed over 
 the hospital again. We are not out of the woods, and 
 had better not halloo yet, though we need not be scared 
 by owls ! Would that Banks or day after to-morrow were 
 here ! 
 
 " Monday morning, June 2. No news. We are en 
 deavoring to get a wagon to go to Martinsburg, and, if suc 
 cessful, will be off at once for our lines. 
 
266 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 " WILLIAMSPORT, MARYLAND, Monday Evening, 
 June 2, 1862. At last. 
 
 " Soon after my last words, Mr. Earnhardt, with corpulent 
 and puffy energy, came up stairs. Well, will you go this 
 morning ? Yes. He had previously told me, when I 
 asked him about a wagon for Martinsburg, c 0, it worrits me, 
 it worrits me ! Now he said, 4 1 ve got a wagon for ye, 
 yes I have, already ! Sure enough, a contraband and his 
 cart were at our door in half an hour. Dr. Stone f and I 
 started at once. Colonel Kenly bade me good by and God 
 speed. 
 
 " Now for impudence and liberty ! On we rode. Four 
 miles, and then came the halt that we dreaded. Two 
 mounted citizens pragmatically inspected our paroles, and at 
 last let iis go. Then two cavalrymen, whom we dissuaded. 
 Then we were shouted at to halt ! Two mounted men, with 
 bowie-knife, revolver, carbine, and sabre, said, You must 
 turn back. Our hearts sank, but we took out our papers, 
 reasoned, persuaded, and, as Providence would guide it, led 
 them to respect our paroles, and let us free. They said, 
 We will go back to town and ask again. On we went, and, 
 with only another halt, but with every nervousness of anx 
 iety, we got to Bunker s Hill. There the harness broke, 
 and again we looked to the rear, but on we went again. 
 < What is that ? Our cavalry ? It must be ; and sure 
 enough down they charged upon us, and we were, in an 
 abrupt transition, at once within the Union lines. I cannot 
 describe our thankfulness and heart-swell. 
 
 * After Major D wight left Winchester, some of Mr. Earnhardt s neighbors, 
 who were Rebels, said to him : ".You 11 have to suffer yet for keeping your 
 Major so long, and then helping him away." " I told them," said the brave 
 old man, " that they couldn t rob me of much if they took my life, for I was 
 most eighty year old." 
 
 t Dr. Lincoln Ripley Stone, then Assistant- Surgeon of the Second Massa 
 chusetts Infantry, who would not abandon the hospital in his charge at Win 
 chester, was a prisoner. He was paroled ; the parole to be a free release, if at 
 Washington he could secure an agreement that surgeons should not be liable 
 to capture ; which was accomplished. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 267 
 
 " We reached Martinsburg. Then our contraband and 
 colored driver, entering into the spirit of our pursuit, agreed 
 to put us through to Williamsport. We crossed the river, 
 met Brown s * wagon. Brown s ready grin and constant 
 delight prepared me a little for the enthusiasm of the regi 
 ment. I canno.t describe their welcome. God knows, I 
 should be proud to deserve it. I have never known greater 
 happiness or thankfulness than to-night. Good by, my dear 
 mother. I go to Washington to-morrow. I will come home 
 when I can, and tell you all." 
 
 He could not describe the welcome of the regi 
 ment. Another, an eyewitness, has attempted to do 
 so. In order to appreciate it ? one should understand 
 the state of mind of the regiment concerning him 
 during the previous week. 
 
 The first account of him after he was missed came 
 from one of their number, who affirmed that he had 
 seen him, during the retreat, in the streets of Win 
 chester, on foot, surrounded by Rebel cavalry, with 
 his sword raised. To the excited imagination of the 
 witness, it seemed that the Rebels succeeded in tak 
 ing his life on the spot. This account was received 
 without question at first ; and, although reliable men 
 afterwards testified to having seen him at a later 
 hour uninjured, yet as day after day passed without 
 any tidings of him, the first impression was not re 
 moved, and their feeling was, that he was among the 
 killed. 
 
 " It was in the dusk of Monday evening, June 2, just 
 after parade, while officers and men were in or about their 
 tents, many talking of the Major and his probable fate, that 
 a stir was perceived among the officers. The lamented 
 
 * George H. Brown, Regimental Wagoner. 
 
268 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 Captain Gary was heard to exclaim, i Good heavens, the 
 Major ! as he rushed forward. Then the Major was seen 
 running, on foot, towards the regiment. The officers ran 
 to meet him. More than one lifted him in his arms. The 
 men ran from their tents towards the limits of the camp. 
 They could not be restrained : they broke camp, and poured 
 down upon the Major with the wildest enthusiasm." 
 
 At this time our informant left the scene to tele 
 graph to his family the news of his safety. 
 
 " On my return to camp," he ,says, " the scene of noisy 
 excitement was changed for one of profound calm. The 
 regiment was drawn up around the Major, who was reading 
 to them from a paper which he held in his hand. Not a 
 face there but was wet with tears. He gave them the 
 names of those of their comrades who were prisoners in Win 
 chester. He told them who were wounded, and the nature 
 of their wounds. He told them of their dead, and of the 
 burials, upon which even the Rebels of Winchester had 
 looked with respect. Then he said, And now do you want 
 to know what the Rebels think of the Massachusetts Second ? 
 " Who was it ambuscaded us near Bartonsville ? " asked 
 a cavalry officer of me. I replied, " That was the Massa 
 chusetts Second." An officer of Rebel infantry asked me 
 who it was that was at the run near Bartonsville. " That 
 was the Massachusetts Second," said I. " Whose," asked 
 another officer, " was the battery so splendidly served, and 
 the line of sharpshooters behind the stone-wall who picked 
 off every officer of ours who showed himself ? " " That was 
 the Massachusetts Second," said I. On the whole, the Reb 
 els came to the conclusion that they had been fighting the 
 Massachusetts Second, and that they did not care to do it 
 again in the dark. 
 
 The next day he wrote from Washington : 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 269 
 
 " DEAR MOTHER, I send you my journal. You will see 
 by it that I became a prisoner by carelessness, mixed, per 
 haps, with good-nature. D is with me. I stay here to 
 
 see about my exchange, <fec. I am sorry you had so much 
 anxiety for me, but thankful to be able to relieve it. Love 
 to all. My reception by the regiment is reward enough. I 
 must get back to them." 
 
 Two days later he telegraphed from Washington 
 as follows : 
 
 " Have order for exchange with Major Davidson at Fort 
 Warren. Shall come home at once and arrange it." 
 
270 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 RETURN HOME. PROMOTION. FORTRESS MONROE. REJOINS 
 REGIMENT. LETTERS FROM CAMP NEAR CULPEPER. BATTLE 
 OF CEDAR MOUNTAIN. LETTERS FROM CAMPS NEAR TENALLY- 
 TOWN AND ROCKVILLE. 
 
 AFTER having, as he supposed, successfully ac 
 complished, in Washington, an early exchange, 
 Major Dwight hastened home, where he arrived at 
 midnight of Friday, June 5.* 
 
 That home " received its dead, restored to life 
 again." Must he go forth a second time to danger 
 and to death ? Patriotism faded under the tempta 
 tion to hold him fast. 
 
 On the evening which followed his return he was 
 entreated to consider the possibility of his resigning 
 from the army. He had served there faithfully for 
 the past fourteen months, he had helped to create one 
 of the best regiments in the service, he had at last 
 enjoyed the long-delayed opportunity in the field, 
 and had improved it honorably ; could he not now 
 feel that he had done his part in the war ? Could he 
 not now, in conscience and in honor, return to civil 
 life, where a career of usefulness was open to him, 
 and to the home where his presence was so much 
 needed ? Every argument was urged which might 
 possibly lead him to regard this as the path of duty. 
 He listened patiently and in silence to all that was 
 
 * See Appendix I. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 271 
 
 said. When the last word was spoken, he calmly, 
 and in gentlest tones, replied : 
 
 u The last year has been the richest of my life. For the 
 first time in my life, I have been sure, every day, that I was 
 doing good. I have worked hard in the profession of the 
 law, and gained cases for people, and they have been very 
 grateful to me, but I never knew with certainty whether I 
 had done them good or not. Now I know, every day I live, 
 that I do good to those poor fellows in our regiment, and I 
 shall not give it up. I would not if I could, and I could not 
 if I would, with honor. 
 
 " Then, as to my life, my experience at Winchester taught 
 me that is God s care, not mine. I took no care of it then 
 myself. I was all the time in front of the line ; I went for 
 ward into the most exposed positions possible. I saw a 
 dozen men take aim at me. They did not hit me. I was 
 as safe there as I should have been at home. And I shall 
 be so again, till God s time comes to take my life. When 
 that time comes, I am perfectly willing to give it up." 
 
 He ceased speaking. Personal selfishness was re 
 buked. He was never again asked to reconsider the 
 purpose to which he had dedicated himself. 
 
 Much of his first day at home was given to a visit 
 to Fort Warren, whence he returned buoyant with 
 the hope of being soon exchanged for Major Davidson, 
 who, in accordance with the arrangement made by 
 Major Dwight at Washington, left the next day for 
 Richmond with the expectation of speedily accom 
 plishing that object. 
 
 Some days later he wrote to his brother Howard 
 as follows : 
 
 " DEAR CAPTAIN, How are you ? I m prisoner of war. 
 
272 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 [t seems to run in the family.* I hope you won t have it. 
 [ wish that you may find a speedy end of your service in the 
 West. I have had a very pleasant week at home, but am 
 rery impatient to be back to the regiment." 
 
 He was indeed an impatient "prisoner of war." 
 On being reproached for so reluctantly yielding to 
 the necessity of remaining at home, he said : 
 
 " You do not doubt, do you ? that this is all very pleas 
 ant, being here, having an easy time, amusing myself, 
 it is all very pleasant ; but it is not the life for me." 
 
 After two weeks, brightened by the kind attentions 
 of friends, in the course of which he received his pro 
 motion as lieutenant-colonel of his regiment, he pre 
 pared, on the evening of June 22, to leave home the 
 next day for Fortress Monroe, where he believed he 
 should find his exchange accomplished. In the course 
 of his preparations he said, incidentally, that he did 
 not expect to live to come back again, adding, " And 
 I do not much care whether I do or not. What 1 do 
 care for," said he, and the earnestness and vigor of 
 his manner as he spoke will never be forgotten, 
 " what I do care for is to have an opportunity to find 
 a field, and to improve it honorably." 
 
 The next day, as he left home, his parting words 
 were : " Mother, you believe in God ; that s the best 
 advice I can give you." 
 
 There was nothing new or strange in receiving this 
 counsel from his lips. Even from boyhood he had 
 been accustomed to express, under circumstances 
 
 * Colonel William Dwight, Jr. was taken prisoner after the battle of Wil- 
 liamsburg. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 273 
 
 calculated to call it forth, his trust in the overruling 
 providence of God, and his sense of the duty of 
 constantly and cheerfully recognizing it. Yet, " his 
 faith," to borrow language which has been otherwise 
 applied, "his faith transpired not in outward profes 
 sions, but in his actions ; in the uprightness, the 
 moral elevation of soul and spirit which sent him 
 straight forward, without turning to the right hand 
 or the left. His faith, in the literal sense of the 
 word, is known to us only through his works." 
 
 Judge Gray showed his appreciation of it when, 
 after his death, he wrote : 
 
 " I have never known a man who seemed to hold in juster 
 proportion his duties to himself, his friends, his family, his 
 country, and his God. If all men were like him, there 
 would be less discussion of the comparative merit of faith 
 and works." 
 
 On the 30th of June he wrote from Washington as 
 follows : 
 
 " I have just returned from Fortress Monroe. Our rela 
 tions to the enemy are so complicated and uncertain that I 
 could accomplish very little. The only hopeful sign is, that 
 my major did not return with the rest. I had a pleasant 
 enough visit at the Fortress. 
 
 "I go to our camp near Winchester to-morrow morning, 
 and shall be absent a few days. Now is the season of rapid 
 changes, and I hope for a change for the better. 
 
 " Speculation or prophecy will be disaster or fulfilment 
 before this reaches you, so I will say adieu. 
 
 " Hope and pray. If all goes smoothly for me, I shall see 
 you again for a few days next week. But I fear even a 
 longer delay. Love to all." 
 
 18 
 
274 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 He arrived in Brookline during the following week. 
 This second return, without hope of immediate ex 
 change, was too severe a trial to him to be a source 
 of unalloyed pleasure to those who welcomed him. 
 His home was no longer with us. His home was 
 with his regiment, where, during his recent visit, he 
 had seen how much he was needed. We missed the 
 gladness which had animated him on his first return. 
 We saw how hard he found it to be resigned to the 
 dispensation which held him back from the perform 
 ance of those duties that were forever knocking at 
 his heart. 
 
 Yet there are bright spots to look back upon, even 
 in this last visit. Among the pleasantest to him were 
 Commencement and Phi Beta days at Cambridge, 
 which he enjoyed with his accustomed zest. 
 
 The following is extracted from an eloquent tribute 
 paid him, after his death, by a distinguished writer.* 
 It contains a vivid picture of his appearance on the 
 latter occasion : 
 
 " At the dinner of the Phi Beta Kappa Society, of Har 
 vard University, in July last, after General Devens had 
 made a stirring speech, and Holmes, in a clear ringing voice, 
 had chanted the fiery music of his battle-lyric, Never or 
 Now, and the other speakers had all obeyed the imperial 
 impulse of the hour, there was a sudden and loud call for a 
 young man who was trying to escape from the hall, the 
 only retreat he ever willingly attempted, and, at last, yield 
 ing to the summons, he turned and fronted the company 
 with a bright, ardent smile, while, amidst the shouts and 
 thunders of applause, the President introduced him as 
 
 * George William Curtis. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 275 
 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Wilder Dwight, a prisoner of war at 
 large upon his parole. The heroic aspect, the burning 
 words, the passionate appeal he made for honor and liberty, 
 we shall none of us forget. 
 
 " And now that he shall be seen no more, we remember 
 him as he stood there, the express image of that dauntless 
 daring, that blithe earnestness, that religious faith, by which 
 alone the great victory is to be won." 
 
 On Monday, A. M., August 11, he received the news 
 that his exchange was effected. At the same time 
 he heard of the battle of Cedar Mountain, in which 
 his regiment had lost so heavily. 
 
 Every true soldier can appreciate the bitterness of 
 his feeling at hearing that his regiment had been in 
 action without him. The loss of his friends who had 
 fallen cut him to the heart. He suffered as he had 
 never suffered before. Some hours were given to 
 visiting the friends of the wounded and the killed, 
 and to making arrangements for serving them ; then 
 he left us, never again to return. 
 
 His premonition that he should not live to come 
 back had seemed to gain strength with every passing 
 day. He often expressed it naturally and cheerfully. 
 The evening before he left home he talked of it more 
 seriously, casting his view forward into the future 
 world. He would have us prepared for what was to 
 come. 
 
 Those who met him on the last sad morning saw 
 in his face what he felt. To more than one he said, 
 as he took leave of them, " It is the last time." 
 
 Yet, his anxious thought was not now for himself. 
 He was bearing others burdens. 
 
276 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 " I took it hard this morning," he said to us in 
 parting. " I feel better now. I shall get back and 
 help those poor fellows, and that will be a comfort." 
 And with a look full of love and care, and " God bless 
 you ! " on his lips, he was gone. 
 
 On reaching camp he wrote : 
 
 " CAMP NEAR COLPEPER, VIRGINIA, 
 
 August 13, 1862, 9 P.M. 
 
 " I have a chance to send a line, but hardly time to 
 write. A sharp, sudden half-hour s work, under desperate 
 circumstances, has crippled us sadly, as you must have 
 heard only too well. My return has been simply sad and 
 bitter. 
 
 " Of the hopes that may be indulged, I think these are 
 accurate. Major Savage, a wounded prisoner, and Captain 
 Russell, unwounded, taken while caring for Major Savage. 
 Captain Quiiicy, a wounded prisoner, able to walk off the 
 field. Lieutenant Miller, a slightly wounded prisoner. You 
 know of Robeson, Grafton, and Oakey. Lieutenant Brown 
 ing is also wounded severely, but not dangerously. Our 
 loss in killed, twenty-seven ; wounded, one hundred and 
 four ; missing, thirty. There will be many deaths from 
 wounds. 
 
 " Our five brave, honorable, beloved dead * are on their way 
 to Massachusetts. She has no spot on her soil too sacred 
 for them, no page in her history that their names will not 
 brighten. 
 
 " The regiment looks well, but 0, so gloomy ! I have 
 much to tell, but to-night, after the fatigue and stress of the 
 last three days, cannot write. 
 
 " As for myself, I look forward. Love to all." 
 
 * Captain Edward Gardiner Abbott, Captain Richard Cary, Captain Richard 
 Chapman Goodwin, Captain William Blackstone Williams, and Lieutenant 
 Stephen George Perkins. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER I) WIGHT. 277 
 
 Two days later lie wrote : 
 
 "CAMP NEAR CULPEPER, VIRGINIA, August 15, 1862. 
 
 " I have fallen into camp life and its spirit quite easily. 
 It is the virtue of duty in the field that it is persistent, in 
 exorable, exacting. It is the virtue of the military life that 
 it is busy and ardent. Both these considerations urge them 
 selves on me as I sit down to write in cheerful temper, while 
 there are so many reasons for heaviness and sorrow. 
 
 " Our crippled regiment turns out to its duties and pa 
 rades as if nothing had happened to it, while its thinned 
 ranks and vacant posts tell the story of its trial and losses, 
 of its glory too. 
 
 " Yesterday morning I spent with Colonel Andrews in 
 visiting our wounded, and doing my possible for them. It 
 is hard to see some of the very best of our men disabled ; 
 but their pluck and cheeriness are delightful. The regi 
 ment behaved wonderfully, but the position into which they 
 were ordered was a hopeless one. 
 
 " After dinner General Gordon and I rode out to the 
 field of battle, and I examined it thoroughly. I shall write 
 out and send you a full account of the position and the 
 action. The scene was full of interest. I went to the spot 
 where Gary fell and lay till he died on the following day. 
 I found, too, where our other officers fell. The evening 
 was spent with Professor "Rogers, Mr. Dean, Mr. Shaw, and 
 others, who have come out to get tidings of our officers. 
 
 " This morning we have had a grand review (the first 
 occasion of my putting on my sword as Lieutenant-Colonel) 
 of Banks s corps. As we passed out to the field our bands 
 played a dirge, and we paid a marching salute to Colonel 
 Donelly, who had just died of his wounds, and was lying in 
 a house in the town. Then to the field. The loss of the 
 corps is about two thousand five hundred. Their work was 
 done in a few hours, and all you can say is, the enemy went 
 back, but their loss can hardly have equalled ours. 
 
278 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 " Tliis afternoon I am on duty again, so that I have no 
 time for writing you as I could wish. I hope something 
 can be done to recruit us up to an approach to our former 
 numbers. Nothing can ever make good our losses. Gary 
 and Goodwin and Grafton were all too sick to march, and 
 went up to the battle-field in ambulances, rushing forth 
 when their regiment was ordered forward. 
 
 " All these and many other memories I could write if I 
 had time. Love to all at home. I am well, and most happy 
 to be back here." 
 
 Again he wrote : 
 
 " CAMP NEAR CULPEPER, VIRGINIA, August 17, 1862, Sunday. 
 
 " The battle of Cedar Mountain, or, correctly, Slaughters 
 Mountain, or, in common speech, Slaughter Mountain, seems 
 to be proclaimed by General Pope, accepted by General Hal- 
 leek, and, probably, welcomed by the country, as one of the 
 most obstinate, desperate, and gallant contests of the war. 
 
 "It is claimed loudly and with argument by both sides 
 as a victory, and therefore lacks the best test of success, 
 namely, to prove itself. It failed to be decisive. What 
 Jackson intended by his move across the Rapidan is known, 
 perhaps, to himself. If he meant to hurt and to get hurt, 
 he succeeded. If he meant anything further, he failed. 
 But he left a sting behind him. 
 
 " The right wing of Banks s army was certainly hurled 
 into a storm that wellnigh wrecked it. The field of battle 
 was well chosen by the enemy. From the slopes of Slaugh 
 ter s Mountain on his right, whence he commanded the 
 whole field and viewed it at a glance, to his left in the wood 
 the enemy were strong. Our men attacked, and held them 
 back most gallantly. 
 
 " But you must get the outline and details of the battle 
 from other sources. I will attempt to follow my regiment 
 as it went into action without me, in its hot and toilsome 
 march from Hazel River to Culpeper, where it arrived on 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 279 
 
 Friday at midnight, and bivouacked near its present camp, 
 in its weary and feverish approach to the field on Saturday, 
 and in its sharp trial as the day closed. 
 
 " The regiment marched from Culpeper about six miles 
 to the field, and arrived soon after noon. It went into posi 
 tion on the right, on high ground, in the edge of a wood. 
 There the men waited, rested, and lunched. The battle was 
 going on, on our left and centre, mainly with artillery. 
 
 " At last, and after five o clock, P. M., the sharper musketry 
 on our right told that they would probably be called on. 
 Suddenly Colonel Andrews got an order to move immedi 
 ately to the support of Crawford s brigade, then engaged in 
 a wood about one third of a mile in our front. General 
 Crawford, it seems, had, with mysterious wisdom, and with 
 out full examination of the field, pushed his brigade out into 
 an open wheat-field, bounded on two sides by woods which 
 the enemy was holding. There he was, suffering and per 
 ishing, at the moment the order came to the Second. Colo 
 nel Andrews moved them, as ordered, at a double-quick, 
 down the hill, across the field, through the bog, over the 
 ditch or run, up a steep hillside, and into a wood dense 
 and thickly grown, on, on, on till out they came upon an open 
 field, of which I give you a sketch on the opposite page. 
 
 " The regiment was a good deal disordered when it got 
 through the woods. It marched out through a gap in the 
 fence into the open wheat-field, in which the recently cut 
 shocks of wheat were standing, as indicated on the plan. It 
 was formed under a fire from the woods opposite^ but soon 
 brought inside of the fence, and ordered to lie down behind 
 the fence. A few words more about the ground. 
 
 " The open field is not level ; there is a swell of the ground, 
 which falls off gently toward the enemy s side, and becomes 
 a marsh ; but as it approaches the enemy s wood, it rises 
 again rather suddenly, and the hillside thus made is densely 
 wooded. 
 
 " On this wooded hillside the enemy were piled up. The 
 
280 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 woods indicated on the plan on the right of the open field 
 are a low, bushy growth, hardly taller anywhere than a man, 
 but so very thick as to be a perfect cover. 
 
 " Recollect that the enemy held this approach to our 
 right. 
 
 " When Colonel Andrews entered the woods through 
 which he came to this open field, he met dismayed soldiers 
 of Crawford s brigade, saying, We are beaten ! Crawford 
 had driven his brigade, before this, at a charge, across this 
 field, or tried to do so, and the fire from both directions upon 
 them proved very destructive. 
 
 " The Second took up a position behind the fence, as I 
 have said. Captain Abbott, with his company as skirmishers, 
 had advanced beyond the fence into the field, but were sub 
 sequently withdrawn. 
 
 " Colonel Andrews had, in front of him, the enemy in 
 these woods, and could see only the flash of their guns. 
 Still, he suffered very little. Soon he was ordered to move 
 down toward the right farther, which brought him quite 
 close to the low wood. At this time he got an order to 
 charge across the field. 
 
 " He said it was impossible, and General Gordon, whom 
 he went to see, agreed with him. Colonel Andrews declined 
 to do it, saying it would be simply the destruction of the 
 regiment. 
 
 " It afterwards turned out that the order had been mis 
 understood by the staff-officer who gave it. General Craw 
 ford s brigade, it must be remembered, had retired from 
 the scene before Gordon s brigade came up to the field. 
 Gordon s brigade of three regiments, part of one of which, 
 the Third Wisconsin, had already been engaged in Craw 
 ford s first charge, were alone in this position, and without 
 support. Soon after this Colonel Andrews saw a Rebel line 
 advancing diagonally across the field. He at once opened 
 a file-fire upon it from our regiment. Gaps opened, the 
 Rebel line wavered, and became very much broken. While 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 281 
 
 this was going on, and when it seemed that this advance 
 might be checked, a fire opened from the woods in which 
 we were, on our right flank, and even in rear of it. Colonel 
 Andrews found that the troops on our right, of our own 
 brigade, had been driven back. This first fire, on our flank, 
 killed Captain Goodwin, commanding the right company, 
 and dropped half of that company. Colonel Andrews then 
 ordered the regiment to fall back. At this time the fire 
 upon us was from front, from beyond our right, diagonally, 
 and, most severely of all, directly upon our flank. The 
 enemy were in overwhelming force, and we were left alone. 
 
 " Under a fire of this kind no troops can stand or live. 
 This flank fire cannot be replied to without a change of 
 front or a supporting force. These were impossibilities. 
 Under a storm of bullets which our thinned ranks (for then 
 our heavy loss was suffered) attests only too strongly, the 
 gallant regiment withdrew, leaving one third, nearly, be 
 hind. 
 
 " The trees in the wood remain to testify to the severity 
 of the fire. There and then, within a few yards of the 
 fence, fell Goodwin and Abbott and Williams and Gary and 
 Perkins, and many a fine soldier by their sides. The colors 
 were shot through and through, the staff shattered and 
 broken in two, the eagle torn from the staff, but Sergeant 
 George, of Company A, the color-bearer, brought them off 
 in safety and in honor. As soon as the regiment, in its 
 retreat, came outside of the wood, it was re-formed by Colo 
 nel Andrews near the point where it had entered. The 
 whole time since it entered the woods was little more than 
 half an hour. Many of the men, besides those actually hit, 
 had stopped to give aid to the wounded or dying, and so the 
 regiment was a mere fragment. 
 
 " It went back to a point near its original position, and 
 near a house, which at once became a hospital. Colonel 
 Andrews describes the feeling with which he then discovered 
 the losses. Of the captains, seven went in, and one only, 
 
282 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 Captain Bangs, came back. Of the lieutenants but you 
 know the record. At first it was thought and hoped that 
 our list would be of wounded. Alas ! how speedy was death. 
 The regiment was soon moved toward the centre : and it. 
 spent the night, in presence of the enemy, on outpost duty. 
 During the night there was some confusion and fighting. 
 One of our sentinels took five of the enemy s cavalry with 
 skill and courage. His name is Harrington, Company E. 
 I had noticed him previously, as a bold, cool man. 
 
 " Among the incidents of the fight, Corporal Durgin, one 
 of the color-guard, was approached by three Rebels, as he 
 was looking for Major Savage. He at once called out : Ad 
 jutant, bring that squad here. I ve got three prisoners. 
 The men hesitated ; one struck him with his musket, when 
 Durgin doubled him up by a thrust of his rifle, shot a second 
 one, while the third ran away, and Durgin ran too. 
 
 " Colonel Andrews s horse was shot twice ; once in neck 
 and once in shoulder. Major Savage s horse was shot after 
 he dismounted, and he was subsequently wounded. Captain 
 Russell stopped to help him, and was so caught. Captain 
 Quincy, too, was wounded and taken. 
 
 " On Monday morning, the enemy having drawn back, 
 our burial-party went out. Gary was found, as if placidly 
 sleeping, under an oak near the fence. He had lived until 
 Sunday. His first sergeant, Williston, was at his side,. alive, 
 though severely wounded. He had watched with him, and 
 when the Rebels took from him all that was valuable, Wil 
 liston begged the men to give him Gary s ring and locket for 
 his wife, and their hearts melted, and he was happy in giving 
 them up to be sent to her. 
 
 " Abbott wore a proud, defiant, earnest look, as when he 
 fell, with the words on his lips : 4 Give it to that flag, men ! 
 pointing to the Rebel emblem opposite. Goodwin and Wil 
 liams and Perkins too. Gary and Perkins and Goodwin 
 went to the fight in ambulances, being too sick to go. 
 Goodwin had to be helped along into the fight, but said, 
 4 1 cannot stay when my men are going. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 283 
 
 " It was a sad burden that was brought back to our biv 
 ouac on Monday. 
 
 " I have twice visited and examined the field, and tried to 
 live over again the scene, that I may share, as far as possible, 
 the memories of my regiment. 
 
 " I was seeking, by description, the spot where my dear 
 friend Gary fell and died, and was in some doubt about it, 
 when my eye caught, among the leaves, a cigarette paper. 
 I knew at once that it must be the place, and looking far 
 ther, I found some writing with his name on it. These had 
 doubtless fallen from his pocket. 
 
 " I took them as mementos, and cut also a piece of wood 
 from the stump on which his head rested. These I have 
 sent to his wife. 
 
 " Our chaplain was busy near the field with the wounded 
 all night. His fidelity and constancy in remaining there 
 after our forces withdrew deserve recollection. 
 
 u This morning we have had service, and the camp is now 
 under the influence of its Sunday quiet. There are a good 
 many questions about the fight, and the responsibility of it, 
 which I will not discuss. It seems a pity that we pressed 
 them on our right. The darkness was so near, and the 
 night would have given vis time to concentrate our forces. 
 But it is as ifris. No troops ever encountered a severer test, 
 and our regiment behaved nobly. Voild ! 
 
 " To-morrow we shall have our muster, and account for 
 our losses. 
 
 " We may, probably, be here some time, to repair our 
 losses. I went out to dress-parade this evening, and as I 
 inarched to the front, with five other officers, to salute Colo 
 nel Andrews, our griefs seemed heavy enough. The Third 
 Wisconsin Regiment, so foully slandered by some of the 
 newspapers, behaved gallantly, and did all that men could 
 do. 
 
 " Tell Colonel William, of Williamsburg, that Crawford 
 pushed his brigade out into that open wheat-field without 
 
284 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 skirmishing at all on his right, and never sent a skirmisher 
 into the bushes and low woods on the right of the field. 
 
 " We were rushed up at a double-quick to his support, 
 and occupied the ground that he had just lost. Bah ! then 
 it was too late. 
 
 " I send you a memorandum of my wants on a slip of 
 paper. The weather has been cool for several days ; the 
 nights even cold. I am in excellent health, and I hope you 
 are well and in good spirits. 
 
 " Colonel Andrews s behavior in the fight is the admira 
 tion of all. 
 
 " My love to all at home. Write me, and send me every 
 scrap about the regiment and our lost brave men." 
 
 "!N BIVOUAC NEAR RAPPAHANNOCK CROSSING, August 20, 1862. 
 
 " I had hardly finished my last letter when marching 
 orders came. We had a night s bivouac Monday, a tedious, 
 dusty, broiling march yesterday, and another bivouac last 
 night behind the Rappahannock, which is now between us 
 and the enemy, who were, I suppose, themselves awaiting us 
 beyond the Rapidan. I have no spirit for speculation or 
 prophecy, only an aching for result and fulfilment 
 
 " Lieutenant Mills has reported for duty, and finds him 
 self very busy. He comes at the moment when we need 
 every officer s service. He will do well. Last evening when 
 we came on to the field, I found Private Kent Stone waiting 
 for me, looking bright and earnest. He came on in charge 
 of the new recruits from Washington ; and as soon as we 
 were established, he marched his recruits into our field, and 
 they were assigned to their companies. I advised the Stones 
 to go into Company C, Captain Cogswell, and they will be 
 
 well cared for there There is nothing to tell. I 
 
 suppose our movements are for the purpose of effecting a 
 junction with McClellan s forces, which are, at all events, 
 expected by us. 
 
 " This is the end of my week since joining. It has been 
 a full one." 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 285 
 
 At this time a prohibition was put upon the mails, 
 and Colonel D wight was unable to send home his 
 usual journal until September 3, when he wrote from 
 Washington : 
 
 " After an experience of sixteen days here, I am humil 
 iated, exhausted, yet well and determined. 
 
 " The history of Pope s retreat, without a line and without 
 a base, is a military novelty. We lived on the country, with 
 a witness, green corn and green apples. Twice cut off 
 by the enemy, everything in discomfort and confusion. 
 
 " Forced marches, wakeful bivouacs, retreat, retreat. 0, 
 it was pitiful ! and now a whole city full, here at Washington 
 begins to feel our presence. Bah ! 
 
 " The regiment has behaved well, the brigade has behaved 
 well. Charley s accident was funny. He was taken from 
 his horse in a meUe, but Colonel Taylor assures me unhurt 
 and lively.* It is the family luck. I will write more when 
 I can, and when I have been to sleep. I am perfectly well, 
 and in as good spirits as can be expected. Have got a large 
 mail to-day. Thanks for letters. Love to all at home. 
 
 Keep there. The service is not for the young ; and 
 
 though the race seems to be to the swift, the battle is not 
 yet to the strong." 
 
 "CAMP NEAR TENNALLYTOWN, MARYLAND, September 5, 1862. 
 
 " I wrote you a hasty scrawl in my hurried visit to Wash 
 ington, just to assure you of our safety at last. That was 
 Wednesday. We went into camp near Fort Albany, and 
 within a mile of the Long Bridge. Yesterday we got march 
 ing orders again ; crossed the Potomac at Georgetown, and 
 came out here on the Edwards s Ferry and Darnestown road, 
 about eight miles, and are now in camp 
 
 * Lieutenant Charles Dwight, of General Sickles s staff, while leading a 
 charge on the enemy, was taken prisoner during the battle of Bristow Station, 
 August, 1862. 
 
286 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 " We suppose that we are to go up the river towards 
 Edwards s Ferry. You would, perhaps, like to have a record 
 of our life since we occupied the line of the Rappahannock 
 till to-day. It has been so tense and corrosive that I am not 
 yet in tone to write an account of it. Our week on the 
 Rappahannock was a series of marches, countermarches, vigils, 
 pickets, wet bivouacs, always within sound, often within 
 reach, of the enemy s cannon, moving under the hissing 
 importunity of flying shells and round shot. One morning 
 at Beverly Ford we took a position from which our forces 
 had been driven two previous days. Colonel Andrews and 
 I breakfasted under a tree with shell and round shot moving 
 merrily about us. We held the position. On Monday night 
 we lay under arms within half a mile of the battle in which 
 Kearney and Stevens fell, near Fairfax Court-House. The 
 fight was a fierce one. During most of it a violent thunder 
 storm raged fearfully. I can only leave you to imagine the 
 scene. We. were all night under arms, wet through, and 
 without fires. The worst night I ever spent. Tuesday 
 night we came in last over the Warrenton Pike, the very 
 tail of the Grand Army, as we had been before. 
 
 " Our risks and chances have been great, but we were not 
 in either of the fights about Manassas or Bull Run. I am 
 glad of it. Unsuccessful battles we have had enough of. 
 I have been too busy to get news of Charley. We have 
 been on the march for eighteen days. Colonel Taylor s 
 account of the matter was encouraging. I met him by 
 chance on Tuesday. Inquired at once for Charley. His 
 answer was, He is on his way to Richmond. I was taken 
 aback. Under all the circumstances, you may regard him 
 as lucky. 
 
 " I hope he will be paroled without being taken to Rich 
 mond. 
 
 " Our recruits have had a hard time. It is an illustration 
 of the folly of our whole system of organization and recruit 
 ing, that we should have dragged one hundred and fourteen 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 287 
 
 unarmed recruits through all this business. But I will not 
 begin about follies. The events of the past three weeks are 
 incredible. Disaster, pitiable, humiliating, contemptible ! 
 Love to all at home. Now that we are in Maryland, I sup 
 pose the absurd order stopping the mails will be rescinded. 
 I shall write again as soon as I can." 
 
 " CAMP BEYOND ROCKVILLE, MARYLAND, September 7, Sunday. 
 
 " It is a hot, sunny, breezy afternoon. We are in line of 
 battle with Simmer s corps, as we have been ever since 
 yesterday noon. The air is full of rumors, but my opinion 
 is firm that the Rebels will not cross in force into Maryland. 
 If they do, and if our hearts have not really died within us, 
 then we shall be fit to strike them. We want SOLDIERS, 
 SOLDIERS, and a GENERAL IN COMMAND. Please notice the 
 words, all of them ; for the history of the past fifteen months 
 is the sad record of that want. Nothing surprising happened 
 in Virginia. The force brought against us was not larger 
 than our own, was equally fatigued, and, still more, without 
 food. But we allowed them, impotently and with fatal 
 blindness, allowed them to outgeneral us. We ignored what 
 was passing under our eyes, denied the familiar maxims of 
 military science, blustered up to the moment of defeat, and 
 then fled back to our base. 
 
 " No line of retreat. No base of supply. No strong 
 positions. What is the issue of that policy ? A starving 
 army hunting lines of retreat upon the firm base, and up to, 
 and within, the strong fortification of its capital. We stood 
 on the banks of the Rappahannock a week, while the enemy 
 steadily pushed his columns up the other bank, and through 
 a well-known mountain pass upon our rear. 0, it is heavy 
 to see life and hope and peace and honor withering away 
 daily under such influences ! Nor do I see any evidence of 
 tone or wisdom in power anywhere 
 
 " It has come back to McClellan ! I met him as I went 
 into Washington the other day. His manner was gay, con- 
 
288 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 fident, elate. His staff were jubilant. Again he takes the 
 reins, and what do you expect ? I must hope, though I 
 know not why." 
 
 Once more he wrote from Washington : 
 
 " September 11, 1862. 
 
 " I am here now two days getting arms for our recruits. 
 All is reported quiet beyond Rockville, and I do not return 
 till to-morrow. 
 
 " Charley is spoken of as having shown gallantry and 
 conduct. His career is an honorable one." 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 289 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 BATTLE OF ANTIETAM. WOUNDED. DEATH. BURIAL. 
 
 few lines from Washington with which the 
 JL preceding chapter closed are the last we have 
 from Colonel D wight until those written on the morn 
 ing of the battle of Antietam, in which he fell. From 
 others we have an account of the intervening days. 
 Mr. Desellum,* whose farm, four miles beyond Rock- 
 ville, was passed by our army on its way to Antietam, 
 writes : 
 
 " After the disastrous experience of our army in General 
 Pope s retreat, and its pause behind the fortifications at 
 Washington to recruit, it again advanced. 
 
 "Amidst the perils and dangers thickening r around us, 
 the friend of Colonel D wight, Colonel Batchelder, of the 
 Massachusetts Thirteenth, rode up. He informed us that 
 Colonel Dwight was alive and well, would soon be up, and 
 had determined, in conversation when at Arlington Heights, 
 to call and see us. The news animated us. How charac 
 teristic of the man, to think of obscure friends while sur 
 rounded by the horrors and dangers of the battle-field. 
 
 " Colonel Dwight, with Colonel Dalton, called upon us as 
 expected. The time and circumstances will never be for 
 gotten. Immense armies were in motion, the Colonel in 
 haste : none knew the danger better than he, or was more 
 ready to meet it. But oh ! the inroads upon the Colonel s 
 health by unmitigated service ! He had undergone ex- 
 
 * See page 86. 
 19 
 
290 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 cessive fatigue, and was then tortured with pain. Riding 
 up, apparently indifferent to suffering, all hastened to meet 
 him. His first remark was, Where are all the spinning- 
 wheels ? Are they going yet ? A cordial greeting fol 
 lowed. He called all the colored children up to him, 
 showed them to Colonel Dalton, asked them questions, and 
 amused himself with their replies. He then gave us a nar 
 rative of the regiment and himself, after which sister and 
 myself, waiving all formality, stated our domestic troubles 
 occasioned by the war, to which he patiently listened, and 
 kindly replied. 
 
 " It was evident he needed rest and refreshment, and 
 while enjoying both he requested his friend of the spin 
 ning-wheel and the flower-garden to show Colonel Dalton 
 her domestic manufactures of linens and woollens. 
 
 " He appeared to feel a momentary relief, and in con 
 versation was animated. While sister was trying to ad 
 minister to his comfort on a couch he remarked with a 
 pleasant smile, How well you know how to make me feel 
 comfortable ! 
 
 " In a short time he felt refreshed, and determined to 
 press forward. I implored him to stay a few days with us, 
 at least, to recruit his shattered health ; entreaties were vain. 
 He well knew the terrible ordeal before him, and said, with 
 emphasis full of meaning, / expect active service ! He 
 appeared to have but one wish, his country s good, to 
 which health and all other considerations were subordinate. 
 
 " Bidding sister, colored children, and all a final farewell, 
 lie remarked to me, ; Come to our camp at Damascus, and 
 4 1 wish you to correspond with me by letter. 
 
 " Mounting their horses, Colonel D wight, as he rode 
 away, politely and gallantly bowed and waved his hat three 
 times to sister. 
 
 " I went a short distance with them, speaking as encour 
 agingly as a full heart would permit. At the gate the final 
 parting ; he rode away. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 291 
 
 " With subdued feelings, I could only invoke the Divine 
 protection in his behalf. 
 
 " Onward he went through pain and suffering, severe 
 marching, privation, battle, victory, wounds, and death." 
 
 Chaplain Quint writes : 
 
 " On the 12th of September, Friday, Lieutenant-Colonel 
 D wight, who had for some days been in Washington on busi 
 ness for the regiment, rejoined us. It was near the close of 
 the day, and his horse bore marks of his haste to find us. 
 We were near the end of the day s movement, and he and 
 myself, with the ambulances, were some half a mile behind, 
 while he told me what he had done and learned. He soon 
 rode on and joined Colonel Andrews. He had been suffering 
 pain in the early part of the week from a carbuncle on his 
 face, and was still weak. 
 
 " At night he slept in a tent with Colonel Andrews, Dr. 
 Stone dressing the face. In the morning, after sunrise, we 
 left our camping-place, and soon after noon reached the 
 vicinity of Frederick. After camp was in order Colonel 
 Dwight, Colonel Andrews, and myself rode into Frederick, 
 where Colonel Dwight was joyfully welcomed by the numer 
 ous friends he had made the preceding winter.* He always 
 made friends, he never lost one. On Sunday we marched to 
 the eastern slope of the Blue Ridge ; a most fatiguing day 
 we had, and it was past midnight when we lay down supper- 
 less. Colonel Andrews, Colonel Dwight, Dr. Leland, and 
 myself were side by side. We anticipated a battle ; but the 
 enemy had left during the night, and in the morning we 
 crossed the ridge, passed through Boonesboro , and biv 
 ouacked. We rode together nearly all day, and at night 
 my arm touched him if I moved. He was cheerful as ever, 
 but far from well. On Tuesday morning his blanket and 
 mine were put together on rails so placed as to insure a 
 
 * See Appendix IX. 
 
292 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 shelter from the sun, and we read and wrote letters* until a 
 sudden order to move preparatory to going into action. We 
 moved about a mile and a half, were drawn up in position, 
 but only artillery fire was had, and at night we camped. 
 He was so weak that Colonel Andrews and myself urged 
 and induced him to lie in an ambulance which Dr. Leland 
 offered. He entered it reluctantly. We had not been q-uiet 
 over an hour when orders came to move. He and myself 
 again rode together, generally in silence. It was half past 
 ten when we halted, and his last march ended. Near by 
 were some wheat-stacks. We took a little and lay upon 
 it ; Colonel Andrews, Colonel Dwight, and myself together. 
 He said but little, and we slept until about five, A. M., when 
 we were roused by cannonade. Our corps was speedily moved 
 towards the front, but a little distance off." 
 
 At this time Colonel Dwight wrote, in pencil, to 
 his mother as follows : 
 
 "NEAR SIIARPSBURG, September 17, 1862. On the field. 
 
 " DEAR MOTHER, It is a misty, moisty morning ; we are 
 engaging the enemy, and are drawn up in support of Hooker, 
 who is now banging away most briskly. I write in the 
 saddle, to send you my love, and to say that I am very well 
 so far." 
 
 Chaplain Quint again writes : 
 
 " Colonel Dwight was as active and efficient as ever. It 
 was not for several hours that our regiment went into action. 
 Of the action others can tell infinitely better, as I was caring 
 for the wounded who were brought to the rear. 
 
 " I am told of his bravery and daring, that after our 
 regiment had captured a Rebel flag he galloped up and 
 
 * Whatever may have been written by Colonel Dwight on this morning was 
 lost in the confusion which followed the battle of Antietam, and never re 
 covered. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 293 
 
 down the lines with it in his hand, waving it amid the cheers 
 of the men, reckless of the fire of the enemy. 
 
 " Colonel Andrews was with him as he was shot, and 
 will tell the circumstances. 
 
 " His last act before receiving the fatal wound was to walk 
 along the line of the regiment, which was drawn up under 
 the shelter of a fence, and direct the men to keep their 
 heads down out of the reach of the enemy s fire." 
 
 Colonel Andrews writes : 
 
 " Lieutenant-Colonel D wight was mortally wounded within 
 two feet of me. He had just come from the left of the regi 
 ment, and was about to speak, when the ball struck him in 
 the left hip. He fell, saying, 4 They have done for me. 
 He then complained of intense pain. The ball also wounded 
 him in the left wrist. The regiment soon fell back a short 
 distance, and men were ordered to carry him, but the pain 
 was so intense that he refused to be moved." 
 
 Here, while alone upon the field, under the fire of 
 the two armies, he took from his pocket the note 
 which he had written in the morning, and added to 
 it the following : 
 
 " DEAREST MOTHER, I am wounded so as to be help 
 less. Good by, if so it must be. I think I die in victory. 
 God defend our country. I trust in God, and love you 
 all to the last. Dearest love to father and all my dear 
 brothers. Our troops have left the part of the field where 
 Hay. 
 
 " Mother, yours, 
 
 " WILDER." 
 
 In larger and firmer characters, across the opposite 
 page, he wrote these words : " All is well with those 
 that have faith." 
 
294 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 The paper is stained with his blood, and the 
 scarcely legible lines show with what difficulty he 
 accomplished this last effort of a life filled with acts 
 of fidelity and love. 
 
 We next hear of him from Private Rupert Sadler, 
 who crept up to him at great risk. He writes : 
 
 " After we had got out of the reach of the enemy, I went 
 out to see what had become of Colonel D wight. When I 
 got near the road, I had to crawl on my hands and knees. 
 The Rebels had not advanced any, and I saw a horse which 
 I thought was the Colonel s. While I was examining it a 
 squad of Rebels saw me, and began firing at me. I laid 
 down behind the horse until they stopped. After I had 
 looked about for a few moments I saw a man with his head 
 lying on a rail. I felt that it was the Colonel, and I hurried 
 to him. It was as I thought. I gave him a drink of water, 
 and asked him where it was he was wounded. He said that 
 his thigh-bone was shattered. I saw his arm was bleeding, 
 and asked him was it serious. He said, It is a pretty little 
 wound. I saw two of our men coming, and I called them 
 over. The Rebels saw them, and began firing. After the 
 firing had ceased Colonel Dwight wanted us to go back to 
 the regiment. Said he, Rupert,* if you live, I want you 
 to be a good boy. I wanted to bind up his wounds, but he 
 said it was no use. He gave me a paper that he had been 
 trying to write on, and the pencil. The paper was covered 
 with his blood. I gave them all to Colonel Andrews, except 
 the pencil ; I have that now. He then gave us directions 
 as to carrying him. We lifted him carefully, and carried 
 him into a cornfield. In the evening I was detailed, by 
 
 * This brave, devoted boy, then a private of Company D, did not long sur 
 vive the friend and benefactor for whom he so freely risked his life. Soon after 
 the battle of Antietam he was made color-corporal. He was killed in action at 
 Gettysburg on the 3d of July, 1863, while carrying the colors. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 295 
 
 Colonel Andrews, at Colonel D wight s request, to go and 
 take care of him. I was with him until he died." 
 
 Magee, one of the men who helped carry him from 
 the field where he fell, says : " When we first came 
 to him to lift him up he said, Boys, don t think that 
 because I am wounded I feel any less spirit than I 
 did before, for I feel just the same. We were look 
 ing for an easy place to put him down, when he said 
 to us, Put me down anywhere, boys ; any place is 
 good enough for me. " 
 
 He was here joined by General Gordon, who 
 writes : 
 
 " As Wilder was brought back from the fatal spot to the 
 wood that skirts the battle-field, I rode to his side. He had 
 just been laid under a tree, the blanket in which he had 
 been carried under him. As I reined up my horse his eye 
 met mine, and he almost exultingly saluted me. At this 
 moment bullets whistled over our heads, shot and shell 
 crashed through the trees ; the wood was no longer a safe 
 place for the wounded : I said, I must have you imme 
 diately removed from here. He replied with heroic firm 
 ness, Never mind me ; only whip them. .... I ordered 
 six men to take hold of the blanket and carry him to the 
 rear, where he could be cared for. I would have gone my 
 self, but my command had no other leader. I never saw 
 my friend again. I am sincerely a mourner that I shall 
 meet him no more on earth. I can also rejoice that such 
 an example is left me." 
 
 Chaplain Quint writes : 
 
 " My servant found me and told me that Colonel D wight 
 was wounded. I immediately began to search for him ; but, 
 though I was in the saddle, could not find him for an hour. 
 I then discovered him with friends in the garden of a hos- 
 
296 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 pital somewhat in the rear. He was lying on a stretcher, 
 covered by a blanket, with his eyes closed, and quite pale 
 from loss of blood. As I kneeled down beside him he opened 
 his eyes and smiled, as he took my hand : i Is that you, 
 Chaplain ? said he. I expressed my sorrow for his wounds ; 
 and, doubtless, he saw my deep feeling in my face, for he 
 immediately added, in a coaxing tone, Don t feel bad ; and 
 with a firm look and natural smile, said, It is all right, all 
 right? I replied, I thank God you feel so cheerful. When 
 he added, Now, Chaplain, I know I m done for, but I want 
 you to understand I don t flinch a hair. I should like to live 
 a few days, so as to see my father and my mother ; they 
 think a good deal of me ; especially my mother ; too much 
 (this was said smilingly), but, apart from that, if God calls 
 for me this minute I m ready to go. Colonel Andrews 
 soon came, and, bending over him, yielded to the grief which 
 overwhelmed him. Colonel D wight threw his arm around 
 his friend s neck, and drew him down to him, saying, 4 Kiss 
 me, dear, don t take it so hard, dear fellow, don t take it so 
 hard ; think how much better it is that I should be lying 
 here than you, who have wife and children at home. He 
 then talked with him freely on the subject of the day s fight, 
 and other matters. He said to him, I want it distinctly 
 understood that, in dying, I have no personal regrets ; my 
 only regret is, that I cannot longer serve the cause. He 
 gave him the history of the boy Sadler, who had been his 
 charge before the war, and for whom he now asked Colonel 
 Andrews s sympathy and care. He said, too, that he should 
 like, if he had strength, to prepare something which might 
 be read to the regiment from him ; adding, with a smile, if 
 it is military to do so. He also told him that he wished a 
 soldier s burial ; and, turning to me, he said, I do not like 
 display, but I think this appropriate, don t you ? I replied 
 that I did. He afterwards enlarged upon the subject, say 
 ing, 1 have lived a soldier, I die a soldier, I wish to be 
 buried as a soldier. He wanted the papers from Sadler. 
 I sent for them and obtained them. 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 207 
 
 " It was determined to try to move him to Boonesboro . 
 I had already sent for an ambulance before Colonel Andrews 
 came. When it arrived we lifted him upon the stretcher 
 into it, but at the first movement of the ambulance the pain 
 was so intense that we had to cease the attempt. We took 
 him out, and replaced the stretcher in its old place in the 
 garden of the hospital. 
 
 " I found that he could be moved only on the stretcher, 
 so I sent for a detail of men at our wagon camp, some miles 
 distant. While waiting for them he said but little, only 
 adverting now and then to some item of business for the 
 regiment which he wished attended to. I lay down beside 
 him." 
 
 At this time he was joined by Lieutenant James 
 Kent Stone, of the regiment, who afterwards wrote 
 to his father * as follows : 
 
 " 1 watched by the side of Colonel Dwight, on the ground 
 among the wounded, on the night after the battle, and the 
 next day I helped carry him three or four miles on a 
 stretcher, and helped place him in the bed where he died. 
 As I sat by him in the night he took my hand, and talked 
 with me for quite a long time. He said he hoped to go 
 home once more, and see his friends, and talk with you, 
 before he died. He tried to look on the bright side, to speak 
 in an earthly way ; still, he was prepared calmly to meet the 
 worst, and was ready to die there where he was. He looked 
 upon you as his minister, and wished me to give you his 
 last message, if he never saw you. I will render his words 
 as nearly as I can. He was ready to die. He looked back 
 upon the past with many regrets for failings and for misused 
 opportunities, yet still, with the self-respect of a man who 
 has tried, on the whole, to do his best ; as for the future, 
 
 ** Rev. John S. Stone, D. D., then rector of St. Paul s Church, Brookline, 
 Massachusetts. 
 
2C8 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 there was but one hope ; no putting forward of one s own 
 claims, but reliance on the merits of Another. i You know 
 what I mean, said he. When he had finished, wishing to 
 go to sleep, he took a drink of water from me, and pressing 
 my hand, said, Good night, dear boy. I hope your future 
 will be as bright as it promises and ought to be. 
 
 " The men admired Wilder D wight more than any other 
 officer in the regiment. They talk often of how he rode 
 along on the battle-field, laughing and cheering, rallying 
 them on. Hal * and I feel that the one great friend we had 
 in the regiment is gone. All are kind, but there was none 
 so true as the Colonel." 
 
 Chaplain Quint continues : 
 
 " After our men arrived it was too late to move him any 
 distance in the darkness. I sent for an ambulance, satisfied 
 that the best thing to do was to place him inside for the 
 night, where he would be sheltered from the dews. When 
 the ambulance arrived w r e carried him to it, having placed 
 it in a good position, and arranged it as well as possible. 
 The men lay around it, and he was well sheltered. At day 
 break we lifted him from the ambulance, and Dr. Leland 
 dressed his wounds." 
 
 Lieutenant Stone again writes : 
 
 " When his wounds were dressed he examined them in a 
 most cool, naive manner. Looking at the hole through the 
 forearm, he said, Now that s a very neat little wound ; 
 a proper wound ; but the other (pointing to his thigh) won t 
 do so well/ By this time Dr. Leland had found a farmer, 
 named Thomas, who owned a substantial house f about 
 
 * Henry Van Dyke Stone, a younger brother of Lieutenant Stone. Eager 
 to serve their country, these young men waited not for commissions, but has 
 tened to join the Massachusetts Second as privates during the dark days of 
 August, 1862, which immediately followed the battle of Cedar Mountain. 
 
 t When, four years later, friends of Colonel D wight visited this house, and 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGIIT. 299 
 
 three miles off, where the Colonel could have a good bed 
 and be well cared for. It was determined to carry him 
 thither. Twelve men from the new recruits were detailed 
 for the purpose. He divided them into six parties, who 
 relieved each other by turns. During the journey of three 
 miles and a half he called out the reliefs himself. At one 
 time one of the third relief carelessly stumbled. It jarred 
 him very much, and he said, Third relief, to the rear ! 
 Now, boys, put on my best team. We were obliged, in one 
 place, to ford a rapid stream about two hundred feet broad. 
 It must have caused the Colonel great pain in crossing, but 
 he did not show it at all outwardly. He was generally 
 silent, but he now and then spoke pleasantly to the men, 
 asking them their names and occupations. Once he asked 
 us if we had had any breakfast. Upon our answering no, 
 he said, Ah ! young soldiers. An old soldier would never 
 have left his wagon-camp with his haversack empty. One 
 incident I must not forget. As we were passing through 
 a piece of woods we met a man with a Rebel flag which had 
 been captured the day before by one of our regiments. 
 Rupert Sadler got him to show it to the Colonel. It was 
 the State flag of the First Texas. The names of the various 
 battles in which it had been borne were inscribed on it. 
 Colonel Dwight read off the names : Seven Pines, White Oak 
 Swamp, Ethan s Landing, Gaines s Farm, Malvern s Hill, 
 <fcc. As the Colonel read the last name Hal called out, in 
 
 learned from Mr. Thomas s own lips that he was a whole-souled Union man, 
 they told him that they were grateful to know that Colonel Dwight did not die 
 under the roof of a Rebel. He replied : " I think it most likely that if he had 
 been taken to any house nearer the battle-field than mine it would have been 
 to a Rebel s. I was almost alone here as a Union man through the war; but 
 when they threatened me with the loss of my property, I always told them I d 
 never be afraid to stand by the flag." 
 
 Mr. Thomas was, withal, a good Christian, and did not omit to mention that 
 morning and evening prayer ascended from his dwelling during that day and 
 night of suffering. In giving his religious views, he said, " I belong to the 
 United Brethren." It was evident that he was of the Good Samaritan order, 
 who would find a brother in any one to whom he could do good. 
 
300 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 the same tone of voice, BoonsboroV i Good for that man ! 
 cried the Colonel ; if I knew who he was I d give him a 
 dollar. But Hal kept still. At one time one of the men 
 asked where the rest of the regiment was. Colonel D wight 
 called out, Who asked for the Second Regiment ? I 11 tell 
 you where the Second was yesterday. In the foremost front 
 of the battle fighting like men ; and we drove them, boys, 
 drove them ! 
 
 Drum-Major Kesselhuth, of the Second Kegiment, 
 wrote to a friend after the death of Colonel Dwight 
 as follows : 
 
 u I was with Colonel Dwight, and helped to dress his 
 wounds. The morning after the fight, while going to join 
 my regiment with my drum-and-fife corps, which had been at 
 work with myself in the hospitals, we met him, lying on a 
 stretcher, on his way to Boonesboro . He stopped us, and 
 requested, as a last favor, that we would play him the Star 
 Spangled Banner once more. As we played, he raised him 
 self up, suffering terribly, for he was mortally wounded. 
 When we had finished he thanked us ; and, repeating the last 
 line of the song, he said, I hope that glorious old flag will 
 wave over this whole country again. So may it be. So 
 shall it be. 
 
 u He died a true patriot. Would to God the whole army 
 was officered by such men as he ! " 
 
 Chaplain Quint says : 
 
 " On the morning after the battle, when the men were 
 carrying him to the house where he died, as we passed the 
 Fifteenth Massachusetts Regiment, which had been badly 
 cut up, and was drawn back by itself near the hospital, he 
 asked to have the flag waved again before his dying eyes. 
 During the journey, if water was given him, or any other 
 service rendered, his old thank you was never omitted. 
 Indeed, the night before in the garden, he repeatedly sent his 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 301 
 
 servant and others to relieve the poor wounded men around 
 him, while in pain himself; it was like him. On the journey, 
 it was found necessary to make two long rests." 
 
 Lieutenant Stone continues : 
 
 " It was between one and two o clock when we reached 
 Mr. Thomas s house. It was a brick building, airy and 
 comfortable. We carried the Colonel into a bedroom. As 
 he was very much fatigued by the journey, we left him 
 awhile to rest. In a short time we were called in to help lift 
 him into bed. By following his own suggestions, we suc 
 ceeded in placing him in bed without his suffering in the 
 process. I could see that lie had failed very much since 
 the morning. He was very pale, and his eyes sunken. As 
 we lifted him he said, Now, boys, steady and true ! steady 
 and true ! These words he repeated a great many times. 
 Having arranged him comfortably, we at once turned to leave 
 the room ; but he roused himself and said, Wait a minute, 
 boys ; you ve taken good care of me, and I thank you very 
 much. God bless you ! This was the last I saw of our 
 dear Colonel. We then partook of a dinner which the 
 Colonel had promised us while we were carrying him." 
 
 " That afternoon," writes Chaplain Quint, " he suffered 
 considerably ; the pain in the limb was great. The next 
 morning I had no thought but that he would live several 
 days, although he was very weak ; he seemed quiet ; the 
 blinds were kept closed, and I allowed no one to enter. 
 But he felt that he should not see any of his family. He 
 spoke of it, and of the time required, and spoke of the prob 
 ability of William s being near. In the morning he sent a 
 despatch asking his father to hasten. This was the third. 
 The first I found he had sent the first day, as I was writing 
 one myself. The second was for a surgeon. They tell 
 me, said he, that I may recover. I do not believe it, but 
 still it is my duty to leave nothing undone. Various little 
 
302 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 
 
 matters he had seen to. Some delicacies came from Fred 
 erick, and he sent thanks for them. Letters were brought, 
 which he read. About ten he seemed considerably weaker ; 
 but it was not until near noon that a marked change 
 took place. I was in the kitchen directing the mistress 
 of the house as to the preparation of beef-tea from a pe 
 culiar jelly. John, his faithful servant, who was with him, 
 came to me and said, The Colonel is wanting you quick, 
 sir. I went in, instantly saw a change, and took his lifted 
 hand. 
 
 " After looking me earnestly in the face, Chaplain, said 
 he, I cannot distinguish your features ; what more you 
 have to say to me, say now. (I had, of course, remembered 
 his dying condition, and conversed accordingly.) I said, 
 4 Colonel, do you trust in God ? He answered with ready 
 firmness and cheerfulness, 4 I do? i And in the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, your Saviour? I do. < Then, said I, there is 
 no need of saying more. I said a few words of prayer over 
 him, with a blessing, after which his own lips moved in 
 prayer, and he added audibly, Amen. Then I said, Now 
 what shall I say to your mother ? He answered, with his 
 whole face lighted up, 4 My mother ! Tell her I do love my 
 mother (he emphasized every word). Tell her I do trust in 
 Cf-odj I do trust in the Lord Jesus. Nothing else. No more 
 did he say then. He was soon sinking. The last was a few 
 minutes later, and about fifteen minutes before his death, 
 when he said, < 0, my dear mother ! About twenty-five 
 minutes past twelve he died ; so peacefully that we could 
 hardly tell the time. 
 
 " He died, as he had lived, a brave, gallant, noble man, 
 a hero and a Christian ; cheerful to the last, considerate, 
 happy. When he breathed his last, every face, of soldiers 
 as well as officers, was wet with tears. 
 
 " Colonel Andrews had sent him word of our success in 
 the battle. It is a glorious time to die ! was his joyful 
 exclamation." 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 303 
 
 " So died," writes Colonel Andrews, u one of the most 
 faithful, brave, unselfish, and devoted officers of our army. 
 He was, I think, the officer most beloved and respected 
 throughout the regiment, by officers and men. His conduct 
 as an officer and as a man was noble. On the battle-field 
 he appeared to me to retain his self-possession most com 
 pletely, and to have his soul bent upon doing his best to 
 uphold the honor of his country s flag. He showed no 
 consciousness of danger, although there was nothing rash 
 in his conduct. He was uniformly kind to every one. How 
 we all feel here in the regiment you can perhaps imagine. 
 It is not the same regiment. His friends have every conso 
 lation possible. His memory is their pride." 
 
 Lieutenant Henry V. D. Stone wrote of him at 
 this time : 
 
 " Dear Colonel D wight ! he was the best man in the 
 world ; too brave for an officer. He was always in the 
 front, cheering on the men, and all the men loved him as 
 they never loved any other. 
 
 " I wrote the telegram sent by Colonel Dwight from the 
 field, and I was sent with Kent and others to take him from 
 the field to the house where he died." * 
 
 " Make haste to join me," he said, by telegram, as 
 he felt his life fast ebbing away ; and every effort 
 was made to reach him, only to learn that it was too 
 late. At his own request, urged in the dying hour, 
 Chaplain Quint, who had watched him through suf 
 fering and through death, accompanied his body to 
 Massachusetts, and saw it borne in safety to his home 
 in Brookline. 
 
 # In a spirit no less heroic than that of his beloved Colonel, this " modest 
 and brave officer" fell in the battle of Gettysburg, on the 3d of July, 1863, at 
 the early age of nineteen years and eleven months. 
 
304 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 Changed as his countenance was by death, there 
 still rested upon his lips the same sweet expression 
 of content which they had been seen to wear when 
 he said, " The last year has been the richest of my 
 life." His silent presence brought with it no sugges 
 tion of the horrors of the battle-field, but only the 
 thought that, as he lay there alone between the two 
 armies, " angels came and ministered unto him." 
 
 His family, on hearing of his death, had thought 
 only of laying him quietly and without unusual cere 
 mony in the beautiful cemetery of his native town ; 
 but on learning his request for a soldier s burial, their 
 one desire was to carry out his wish as perfectly as 
 possible. 
 
 At the call of the Governor of the State a detach 
 ment from six companies of the Massachusetts Forty- 
 fourth, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Edward C. Cabot, acted as military escort on the day 
 of his burial. On that day, Thursday, September 
 25, even the agonizing sense of loss gave way for the 
 time to gratitude, that it was one of autumn s bright 
 est, and that everything conspired to enable his 
 friends to do for him even as he would have done for 
 any brother soldier who had asked it at his hands. 
 
 He had said that he did not like display, and it 
 was felt, at the time, that nothing like display entered 
 into the occasion. The ceremonies, in all their details, 
 seemed an honest and tender expression of heartfelt 
 feeling in contrast to an unmeaning pageant. 
 
 To some who witnessed the scene, the most strik 
 ing feature was the expression of grief that was visi 
 ble upon the countenances of all who crowded the 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 305 
 
 road as the procession moved. Others were most 
 impressed by seeing men advanced in years and high 
 in station, to whom he had looked up with deferential 
 respect, now come forth to do him reverence. 
 
 From the home made desolate by his death, with 
 " wail of saddest music " he was borne, " in slow pro 
 cession, winding through the ways once so familiar to 
 his feet " * to the church where he had been a devout 
 worshipper, and where he had learned to love the 
 sublime burial-service which now fell with soothing 
 power upon hearts bowed with the deepest sorrow. 
 No more sincere mourners were there present than 
 the children of the neighborhood, whose young hearts 
 he had won by the overflowing love and kindness of 
 his nature, and who now brought him the tribute 
 of their sobs and tears. 
 
 One of the most affecting incidents of the day was 
 the arrival, at a late hour, of the band of the Massa 
 chusetts Second, which had been recently discharged 
 from service. These men, who in the army had 
 experienced his kindness and his care, hastened from 
 various distant points to the scene, anxious to follow 
 him to the grave. They arrived in season to join 
 the procession on its way from the church to the 
 Brookline cemetery, where the concluding religious 
 services were held. 
 
 Chaplain Quint then spoke, from the inspiration of 
 the occasion, words eloquent with love and grief, 
 which he found it impossible afterwards to recall. 
 Some of them remained imperfectly in the memory 
 of those who heard them as follows : 
 
 * See Appendix X. 
 
306 LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 " Out of the din of battle, out of the smoke-shroud of 
 death, out of the cheers of victory, I bring the tears of the 
 Second Regiment of Massachusetts braves, for one of the 
 noblest, the bravest heroes of them all. 
 
 " Yon throng of neighbors is the tribute to him as a gen 
 erous, honorable, beloved man. 
 
 " The words of his revered professional associates have 
 borne tribute to his ready insight, his strong reason, and his 
 cultivated mind. 
 
 "But five hundred miles away, near the battle-ground 
 stained with their and with his blood, where, before I left 
 in charge of this sacred trust, the dead faces lay upturned 
 to the sky, the wounded lay helpless, the dying lay gasping, 
 do they weep, who, in the roughest shock of battle, were like 
 iron. 
 
 " From them have I come these many miles, to them 
 shall I instantly return when the work they have given me 
 to do is ended." 
 
 Chaplain Quint then spoke of the devotion of his 
 friend to the regiment to which he was wedded, and 
 which he had helped to make the brave and veteran 
 corps it was ; and of the bright faith and Christian 
 peace in the enjoyment of which he suffered and died. 
 
 In closing, he took leave of the lifeless form which 
 lay shrouded by the American flag before him, say 
 ing: 
 
 " My comrade in the camp and in the field, in heat and 
 in cold, in hunger and in thirst, by day and by night, in 
 many a weary march, in many a wakeful bivouac, farewell 
 until the reveill of the resurrection morn." 
 
 With the chant, " Blessed are the dead who die in 
 the Lord," and the concluding prayers of the burial- 
 
LIFE AND LETTERS OF WILDER DWIGHT. 307 
 
 service, followed by the military honors belonging to 
 his rank, and the music of the Star Spangled Banner, 
 to which his heart had leaped even in the hour of 
 death, these interesting exercises closed. 
 
 Some weeks later his body was tenderly removed 
 to a cemetery of an adjoining town, of which he had 
 once said, " My favorite spot, Forest Hills." 
 
 The only one of his brothers who was absent on 
 the day of his burial was Captain Howard Dwight, 
 then of the Fifth Missouri Cavalry, in the Department 
 of the West. He had the trial of learning at a dis 
 tance from his home, amidst labors arduous and severe, 
 the loss he had sustained. Then he wrote : 
 
 " .... I cannot think of it as real yet ; the void it 
 makes in the home that is almost constantly in my mind is 
 so great. I had seen by telegram in one of the papers that 
 Wilder was wounded, but, somehow, had not for a moment 
 felt it possible that he could be lost to us. To me he has 
 ever been the most affectionate brother, and truest friend 
 when I have most needed aid. 
 
 " It is a great comfort to me, however, to reflect that his 
 death was one which had no horrors for him, and to the 
 possibility of which he looked forward so cheerfully ; and I 
 glory in his career as a soldier, though the end is so hard 
 to bear. I need not assure you how fully you and father 
 and all at home have my sympathy in this affliction, and 
 how much I regret that I cannot be at home to be of some 
 use or comfort to you. 
 
 " I feel that I can do nothing better, however, than, where 
 I am, to imitate, as closely as I may, the bright example 
 that Wilder has given me." 
 
 ***** 
 
 Alas ! too closely did he follow him in the path of 
 danger and of death. Six months later, the grave 
 
308 LIFE AND LETTERS OP WILDER D WIGHT. 
 
 which had so recently closed over the body of Wilder 
 was opened anew to receive the body of Howard. 
 
 Animated by the same spirit, they fell in the same 
 cause, giving their lives to their country. 
 
 And now, under " the shadow of a great rock," " in 
 the hope of a joyful resurrection," 
 
 " They sleep beneath the sod, 
 With all the stars of God 
 To watch their grave." 
 
 We close this record with the following treasured 
 words from Mr. Justice Hoar s reply to the Suffolk 
 Bar at the first meeting of the Supreme Court after 
 the death of Wilder Dwight : - 
 
 " Tender and loving son, firm friend, true soldier, Chris 
 tian hero, we give thee up to thy fame ! For you, life has 
 been enough. 
 
 Goodness and greatness are not means, but ends. 
 
 For us, there is left the precious legacy of his life. Brethren, 
 it is well that we should pause, as we are entering upon our 
 stated and accustomed duties, to draw inspiration from such 
 an example. For who can think of that fair and honorable 
 life, and of the death which that young soldier died, without 
 a new sense of what is worthiest in human pursuits, a 
 stronger devotion to duty, a warmer ardor of patriotism, 
 a surer faith in immortality ! " 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
APPENDIX I. 
 
 ON Major D wight s arrival in Brookline, while a 
 prisoner on parole, in June, 1862, the wish was 
 expressed by some of the citizens that he would meet 
 them at the Town Hall. 
 
 To the friend by whom this wish was communi 
 cated to him he addressed the following letter : 
 
 " BROOKLINE, June 9th, 1862. 
 
 " DEAR SIR, The honor of a public meeting or recep 
 tion by my friends in Brookline is one that I must decline. 
 I appreciate only too deeply the kindness and friendship 
 which prompt the offer. Such a meeting will be, or seem 
 to be, a formal honor paid me by the town. I have done 
 nothing to deserve it, and ought not to receive it. I cannot 
 seem, by its acceptance, to claim, or admit the claim, of any 
 personal merit or distinction. 
 
 " The Second Massachusetts Regiment, to which I belong, 
 succeeded, I hope, in doing its duty under trying circum 
 stances. It is at this moment in the field recovering the 
 ground which it honorably yielded. But I am here, with 
 empty hand, incapable of bearing arms with it. 
 
 " I wait only to be free again to return. Now is not the 
 time when I can feel it fit that I should be the object of 
 public praise or congratulation. 
 
 " Other reasons, which I need not state, unite to lead me 
 to the conclusion that it is my duty to decline the honor 
 which you so generously offer. 
 
 " Very respectfully, your obliged friend and servant, 
 
 " WILDER DWIGHT, 
 
 Major Second Mass. Voh. 
 "THOMAS PAKSONS, ESQ., Brookline." 
 
312 APPENDIX. 
 
 A number of his fellow-townsmen then united in 
 requesting his acceptance of a sword as a token of 
 their regard. In reply he wrote as follows : 
 
 " BROOKLINE, June 11, 1862. 
 
 " GENTLEMEN, Your gift of a sword gives me more 
 pleasure than I can well express. It comes to me at a time 
 when any recognition by my friends has a peculiar value. 
 
 " I welcome it as an expression of your confidence and 
 good-will, and am impatient to be free again to use it more 
 fortunately, I hope, than the one it replaces. 
 
 " It is my earnest prayer that I may be able to bring it 
 back to you with honor. 
 
 " Your obliged friend, 
 
 " WILDER DWIGHT, 
 Major Second Regt. Mass. Vbls. 
 " To THOMAS LEE, B. F. BAKER, J. S. AMORT, and others." 
 
 At this time he had the gratification of receiving 
 a sword from members of the Class of 1853, for 
 whom, ever since his college days, he had cherished 
 a cordial friendship. His first sword, the compelled 
 surrender of which at Winchester was, to him, the 
 most painful circumstance attending his capture, was 
 presented him upon the occasion of his appointment 
 as Major of the Second Massachusetts Infantry, by 
 his friend and former associate, Judge Gray. 
 
APPENDIX II. 
 
 THE following is extracted from a letter written, 
 after the death of Wilder Dwight, by one * who 
 was his chosen friend at Exeter, and who, when the 
 time of his own departure drew near, was moved by 
 faithful memories of the past to pay this affectionate 
 tribute to the companion of his boyhood : 
 
 " . . . . Doubtless, of later years, Wilder had nearer 
 friends than myself, who knew far more than I of what his 
 manhood promised and achieved. But hardly any one knew 
 him more intimately in the golden hope and brightness of 
 boyhood and youth. 
 
 " From the day he entered Exeter Academy, sixteen years 
 ago, we were on the closest terms of friendship. We be 
 longed to different classes, but that did not separate us out 
 of school hours. We walked and talked and read together ; 
 and in our vacations and during the year he spent at West 
 Point our letters were frequent and full. I have no pleas- 
 anter memory of the dear old Exeter days than their asso 
 ciations with him. 
 
 " Then, as always, he had the rare combination of both 
 intellectual and moral clearness of vision, common sense, 
 and conscience. He was, besides, earnest, kind, cordial, 
 and so even his elders were indebted to him for wisdom to 
 discern and courage to do the right. I see now the bright, 
 happy face, and hear the hearty laugh of those days of our 
 boyhood, and that memory will never vanish. 
 
 * Rev. Theodore Tebbets, formerly pastor of the First Church, Medford, 
 Massachusetts. He died on the 29th of January, 1863, leaving a memory 
 which is enshrined in the hearts of all who knew him. 
 
314 APPENDIX. 
 
 " . . . . For the last five years I had met him but three 
 times, but I knew what he was doing, and rejoiced in learn 
 ing of his unexampled but deserved success ; and I have 
 had ample evidence, in the touching testimonials that have 
 been publicly offered to his memory, that all the beauty and 
 force, all the sweetness and power, of his boyhood s character 
 were still the traits of his noble manhood. . ." 
 
APPENDIX III. 
 
 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SUFFOLK BAR 
 
 UPON THE OCCASION OF THE DEATH OF WILDER DWIGHT, 
 WITH THE REPLY OF THE COURT. 
 
 MEETING OF THE BAR. 
 
 ON the morning of the 24th of September, 1862, 
 the members of the Bar assembled in large num 
 bers in the Law Library in obedience to the follow 
 ing call : 
 
 " The members of the Suffolk Bar are requested to meet 
 in the Law Library on Wednesday, the twenty-fourth day 
 of September, at half past nine, A. M., for the purpose of 
 taking measures to express their respect for the memory 
 of their late associate, Lieutenant-Colonel Wilder D wight. 
 
 " SIDNEY BARTLETT, 
 BENJAMIN R. CURTIS, 
 JOSIAH G. ABBOTT, 
 RICHARD H. DANA, JR." 
 
 Mr. Bartlett was called to the chair, and Mr. C. F. 
 Blake was chosen Secretary of the meeting. 
 
 Mr. Abbott, Mr. F. E. Parker, and Mr, Gray were 
 appointed a committee to prepare resolutions, and 
 reported the following : 
 
 u Resolved, That while we bow with submission to the 
 Divine Will, that has taken from us our friend and associate, 
 Wilder D wight, we render thanks for the example of his 
 manly life and the consolation of his heroic death. 
 
316 APPENDIX. 
 
 " Resolved, That in the brief period during which our 
 brother practised at this bar we had learned to respect his 
 judgment, to admire his accomplishments, and to expect 
 from his sound sense, and his rare aptitude for the sudden 
 dangers of the trial and the argument, the attainment of the 
 highest honors of the profession. 
 
 " Resolved^ That we remember with pride that he was the 
 first citizen of the Republic to tender to the President a 
 regiment for the war, and the first member of this bar to 
 devote himself to the support of the Constitution and the 
 Flag ; and that amid the perils of the battle and the hard 
 ships of the camp he won the name of a true soldier, trusted 
 by his superiors, beloved and respected by his men. 
 
 " Resolved^ That we commend to the young men of Mas 
 sachusetts the life and death of Wilder Dwight as a noble 
 example. His short life was long enough to afford us a 
 pattern of virtue, of courage, of high resolve, and of lofty 
 achievement. It is fortunate for his country that he has 
 lived. He has not died too soon to leave a memory precious 
 to his companions, and worthy to be perpetuated. 
 
 " Resolved^ That these resolutions be presented to the 
 Supreme Judicial Court, with a request that they may be 
 entered upon its records ; and that a copy of them be trans 
 mitted to the family of our brother as an expression of our 
 profound sympathy." 
 
 Mr. Abbott then moved the adoption of the reso 
 lutions, and spoke at some length in their support. 
 
 He was followed by Mr. Josiah Quincy, Jr., who 
 said that nearly thirty years had passed since he 
 attended a meeting of the Suffolk Bar, but that he 
 could not refrain from returning to express his sense 
 of the rare qualities of the citizen and soldier whose 
 memory they had met to honor. He had known 
 Colonel Dwight in Europe under circumstances which 
 
APPENDIX. 317 
 
 had impressed him with the varied acquirements and 
 bright social qualities of his young countryman. 
 And an intimate intercourse in America had in 
 creased that estimate of his character and capacity. 
 Mr. Quincy concluded by reading a portion of a letter 
 from his son, a captain in Colonel Dwight s regiment. 
 Both the young men had left the Suffolk Bar at the 
 same time to defend the Constitution of their coun 
 try before the high court of final appeal where the 
 Judge of Nations is arbiter. 
 
 An extract from this letter, written after General 
 Banks s retreat from Virginia, in May, 1862, is as 
 follows : " Our Major (afterwards Lieutenant-Colonel) 
 D wight has won for himself the heartfelt admiration 
 of the regiment. His indomitable pluck and perfect 
 sang-froid were beautiful. I watched him on Satur 
 day and Sunday with wonder and delight. Bullets 
 and death he utterly despised and ignored. In short, 
 he is a genuine hero." 
 
 Mr. Dana then addressed the meeting as follows : 
 
 " MR. CHAIRMAN, The sight of so many of our brethren 
 reminds me that the last meeting I had the privilege of 
 attending was when we came together to mourn the sudden 
 extinguishment of that dazzling luminary of the forum, the 
 bar, and the platform, which had so long cheered and in 
 fatuated us all. 
 
 " Rufus Choate died in the fulness of his years and fame. 
 That light went out as it was declining to its evening. To 
 day we meet to mourn one who has fallen in the flush of 
 youth, a star but little risen above its eastern horizon, not 
 yet a familiar sight, not yet recognized by all as an influ 
 ence. This is a contrast, Sir ; but, alas ! how much deeper 
 is the contrast in the place and manner of their death ! 
 
318 APPENDIX. 
 
 Eufus Choate died, indeed, on foreign soil, and under a 
 foreign flag, but beneath a friendly roof, with kindly atten 
 tions, and in the quiet of profound peace. Our young 
 brother fell in the midst of the uproar and carnage of a 
 field of battle ; not on foreign soil, but on the soil of the 
 old thirteen States, beneath our own flag, almost under the 
 shadow of the Capitol, not by the hand of foreign foes, 
 but of vindictive and infuriate brethren, who have struck 
 hands parricidal hands against our common parent, 
 against those who had been, and desired still to be, their 
 brethren. 
 
 " Who would have dreamed, sir, when so little while ago 
 Wilder D wight stood among us at the funeral solemnities 
 of that leader of our bar, so eager to show every mark of 
 love and admiration, but not claiming a place among those 
 who spoke, who would have dreamed, in that hour of a 
 peaceful and united Republic, that we should be bringing 
 him home with bell and burial from the field of a battle of 
 the greatest proportions, fought in the deadly struggle of 
 civil war ! 
 
 " But, sir, I desire to speak more particularly of the per 
 sonal qualities of our brother. I cannot say, with Mr. 
 Abbott, that I knew him intimately ; but I knew him very 
 well. If we may approach with that freedom which all 
 analysis implies, within the sacred precinct which the shadow 
 of death forms around its victims, if we may touch so 
 freely one whom an heroic death has canonized, I would 
 say, as an honest judgment, that his most marked character 
 istic was what one is tempted to call a talent for success. 
 He had that combination of qualities which led to success 
 in whatever he undertook. His best friends may well 
 admit that you can find, among the youth of this city, some 
 who excelled him in that variety of acquirements which 
 makes the accomplished and versatile man of society. 
 Neither his tastes nor his powers lay in that direction. He 
 had learned in the schools and at college that for which 
 
APPENDIX. 319 
 
 colleges and schools are most valuable, the use of the 
 instruments which men must employ in life. His love was 
 for that kind of intelligent labor which looks to specific 
 results. 
 
 " I spoke of his talent for success. I mean that he had 
 those qualities which operated like a specific power in that 
 direction. He had an intuitive knowledge of himself, and 
 an instinctive knowledge of other men. He adapted his 
 means to his ends. He knew what he was suited to do, 
 and he had a power of will, a faculty of concentration, and 
 patience, perseverance, and confidence, which insured suc 
 cess. He allowed no waste. He was as far as possible from 
 anything desultory. When this war broke out, he deter 
 mined to become a soldier. His friends knew he would 
 make himself one. He determined to offer the first regi 
 ment of three years men to the army, and he did so. He 
 went to Washington to obtain advantages and opportunities 
 most difficult to secure ; but we felt that he would succeed, 
 and he did succeed. I remember seeing him at the State- 
 House, seeking to accomplish certain things for his regiment 
 then most difficult of attainment. He had the cheerful and 
 satisfied look of one who had succeeded, yet he had but 
 begun. A common friend whom I met a member of the 
 Governor s staff said to me, 4 It is hard to do, but it is 
 Wilder D wight, and he will carry it through ; and he did. 
 When he was made prisoner at Winchester, and the Rebels 
 were taking all their prisoners to Richmond, he determined 
 not to go to Richmond, and he did not go, but was paroled. 
 Some of us know the sagacity and perseverance by which 
 he gained his point. And after returning to his regiment, 
 and receiving that ovation which has been so touchingly 
 described by Mr. Abbott, when rough men cried and hugged 
 him in their arms, he set about getting himself exchanged ; 
 and that, too, he accomplished speedily. 
 
 " But, sir, there is one enemy whom no man can conquer, 
 the last enemy, to whom we all, to-day or to-morrow, must 
 
320 APPENDIX. 
 
 yield. Him that enemy, to our limited human conceptions, 
 seems to have attacked too soon and too early. But in his 
 short life he has helped to teach us many lessons. One 
 lesson, suited to the needs of the hour, is that the best man 
 makes the best officer. As a general rule, there are 
 many noble exceptions, but as a general thing, the edu 
 cated man is the best in command. I do not mean by the 
 educated man, the man with an overloaded memory, but 
 the man of developed powers, enlarged horizon, intellect 
 trained to comprehending and explaining, and, above all, 
 with that training of the inner man which gives him, from 
 youth up, a sense of his own dignity, a power of maintaining 
 it, and a respect for the rights and feelings of others, that 
 training to high notions of honor, that amenability to the 
 point of honor, which I would say it in the confidence of 
 these walls is the spot where has lain the deficiency of our 
 public men, where has been the defect with too large a part 
 of our armies. To Wilder D wight the point of honor was 
 paramount. He might fall in battle, or perish by disease, 
 he might risk or surrender forever all that life can promise, 
 but he would not, could not, do anything questionable in 
 the light of true honor. 
 
 " Of his professional prospects when he left us for the 
 army we have the highest evidence, in the opinion formed 
 of him by the Court and his seniors at the Bar. Of his ex 
 traordinary personal gallantry in the field, noticeable in a 
 regiment of gallant men, others have shown to us the con 
 clusive and most gratifying proofs. 
 
 He is gone ! He is gone, with Abbott and Lowell and 
 Putnam and Stearns, with Chandler and Perkins and Gary, 
 with no, sir, I will not complete the bright catalogue; 
 these names call back too many sad memories with that 
 noble army, that glorious company, that goodly fellowship, 
 of the educated young men of Massachusetts, who have 
 offered their lives to this sacred cause, and whose offer has 
 been accepted." 
 
APPENDIX. 321 
 
 Mr. Parker then said : 
 
 " The remarks to which I have just listened induce me, 
 contrary to my previous intention, to bear, in few words, 
 my testimony of affection and respect to the memory of 
 Lieutenant-Colonel D wight. When I first knew him, he 
 was at school, and I had the opportunity of observing him 
 as he grew from a promising boy to an admirable man. It 
 has just been said that his distinguishing quality was his 
 talent for success ; and to a distant observer this was no 
 doubt true. But to those who knew him familiarly, the 
 nature of the success which he sought was more remarkable 
 than his faculty of attaining it. When he left college, and 
 was to choose his path in life, it was in his power to take 
 that path which led by easy and rapid steps to leisure, social 
 position, and abundant wealth ; and not only was it in his 
 power to choose this path, but it was the one selected for 
 him, and to turn from which needed a strong exertion of 
 the will. Just that life was offered to him which is to a 
 young man most tempting from its material advantages, and 
 to which public opinion in this community, at that time, 
 pointed as promising the most brilliant prizes of life. But 
 he had the elevation of purpose to prefer the honorable toil 
 of our profession, because it required intellectual effort and 
 promised the noble reward of intellectual success. He en 
 tered upon the study of the Law with the ardor and energy 
 of a strong nature ; and I remember how he regretted his 
 year of foreign travel to which Mr. Quincy has just alluded, 
 because it placed him farther from the attainment of the 
 main purpose of his life. How steady was his progress to 
 the attainment of that purpose, and how rapid his steps up 
 the difficult ascent, you have heard from those best placed 
 to observe and best able to appreciate. At the breaking out 
 of the war he had everything which a man of high ambition 
 most desires : he had youth and health, fortune and friends, 
 
 a profession in which he delighted, the practical talents 
 21 
 
322 APPENDIX. 
 
 which smooth the way in it, and the confidence in himself 
 which made labor light. But when the trouble of our 
 country came, he thought that all advantages and successes 
 which did not aid her were to be trampled under foot. He 
 gave up to his country, without a moment s hesitation, all 
 that he had gained and all that he was. More than this, he 
 looked the dangers of his new profession in the face, not fas 
 cinated by its glitter, nor drawn from weightier thoughts by 
 the sound of martial music, but deliberately, for the defence 
 of the law, and the support of a cause which he solemnly 
 considered to be just. When he left us for the last time, he 
 believed, and to his intimate friends expressed his belief, 
 that he left never to return. It is this elevation of purpose 
 which separates Wilder D wight from common men, and 
 gives him his true title to immortality." 
 
 Mr. Gray then spoke as follows : 
 
 " I feel that the relation which I held to Wilder D wight 
 makes it fit that I should add a few words ; though I would 
 have preferred to leave it with those who speak with more 
 weight of authority, or whose words are more expressive. 
 To all that has been said in his praise I heartily assent, and 
 would repeat it more forcibly had I the power. 
 
 " My acquaintance with him began when, introduced by 
 the gentleman who has just spoken, he applied to enter my 
 office as a student when I was about to form a connection 
 in practice with the present Mr. Justice Hoar. I had occa 
 sion to hear all his arguments upon questions of law before 
 the Supreme Court. And after he had become my partner, 
 it was in his room that the first steps were taken toward 
 getting up the Second Massachusetts Regiment, of which 
 so much has been already said. And I can truly say, that 
 from the beginning of our acquaintance, my love, my re 
 spect, and my admiration for him went on increasing to the 
 end. 
 
APPENDIX. 323 
 
 " If I may be permitted to judge from the assistance I 
 derived from him, first as a student and afterwards as an 
 associate, and from having been present at the argument of 
 nearly all the questions of law which were argued before 
 the full bench of the Supreme Court while he was at the 
 Bar, I should find it hard to name one of his age who was 
 better grounded in the principles of the Law. And I think 
 I may say, that I have never known any young man who 
 combined in such just and equal proportions the theory to 
 be learned from the books with a readiness of practical ap 
 plication to the facts of cases as they came up. 
 
 " It has been said here to-day that his judgment was un 
 commonly mature for his years ; and that is true. But it 
 is not all. He did not rest satisfied with what he had at 
 tained. As he grew older he improved, not only in expe 
 rience and in soundness of judgment, but in breadth of view 
 and height of aim, and in generous consideration of the 
 efforts of others not so high in their aims or so fortunate in 
 their faculties as himself. He had no mean spirit of rivalry. 
 He ran not to pass others in the race, but to reach the goal ; 
 and he would have run the same race if no others had run 
 with him. 
 
 " In everything that he undertook he was moved by the 
 same spirit. His character is, perhaps, shown more clearly 
 by a few illustrations from his life than by any abstract com 
 ments or opinions. 
 
 " I remember when he was at home on parole, after he 
 had been taken prisoner in the retreat of the Shenandoah 
 Valley (and it should be remembered that from the time 
 he entered the army he never took a day s furlough, or was 
 absent from his regiment except from some exigency of the 
 service), that he was speaking of the descent of a hill- with 
 his regiment under a very heavy fire, and was asked about 
 his thoughts and feelings then. If you wish to know, he 
 answered (as we are all friends here), I had written a let 
 ter to one of you commenting pretty freely upon the cam- 
 
324 APPENDIX. 
 
 paign, and perhaps on some individuals ; and I thought if I 
 should be killed I should not like to have it fall into the 
 enemy s hands. So I took it out of my pocket, and as we 
 inarched down the hill I tore it up. This shows how he 
 always kept in view his whole duty, the smallest things as 
 well as the most important. 
 
 " To those who really knew him, his warmth of feeling 
 was not less remarkable than his purity of principle and his 
 strength of character. None but his intimate friends knew 
 how much of his time was taken up in acts of kindness and 
 charity. From the time he became a soldier, he was devoted 
 to the care of his men, both as a matter of military judgment 
 and of right feeling in this, as in other things, showing how 
 his intellect and his heart worked together. His men s 
 appreciation of his kindness has been shown by the instances 
 which have been recited by others. But it is very striking 
 how in each principal act of his military career the same 
 spirit was manifested. At Winchester he was taken prisoner 
 while caring for a wounded soldier. At Antietam lie re 
 ceived his death-wound while suggesting to his Colonel that 
 the men had been halted at a place where they were too 
 much exposed to the enemy s fire. And I see in a news 
 paper this morning (and I believe it because it accords with 
 what I have often heard of him), that when he was lying on 
 Ins death-bed, his attention was principally directed to the 
 other wounded men about him, and his indignation strongly 
 expressed to a surgeon who neglected them. 
 
 " If I were conversing with any one of you as man to 
 man, I could go on all day with illustrations of his charac 
 ter. But I feel, even in addressing a circle of this size, that 
 I cannot well collect my thoughts or express myself with 
 sufficient distinctness. 
 
 " Let me, before closing, but mention a parallel which 
 came to my mind on the morning of the news of his death, 
 while talking of his many noble qualities with an older friend 
 of his, one nearer his own age than myself. 
 
APPENDIX. 325 
 
 " We had been speaking of his patriotic feeling, his broad 
 and sound views of politics and government, his zeal and 
 labor in learning the art of war, the love his men bore him, 
 and his deference to those of military education or experi 
 ence. 
 
 " Indeed, with all his resolution in carrying out his plans, 
 he had really a modest opinion of his own abilities. When 
 he undertook anything he did all he honorably could to 
 carry it through, and his manner sometimes implied a self- 
 reliance which he did not really have. At the time of get 
 ting up his regiment, he had no thought of any higher office 
 for himself than a captain s, and he would have taken a 
 sergeant s place if it had been assigned to him. After all 
 his friends and those who knew most about the regiment 
 had assumed that he would have a higher place in it than 
 any other civilian (it being understood that he had procured 
 two graduates of West Point for the highest officers), he 
 had hardly entertained the idea seriously, and his friends 
 know what misgivings he had about accepting the post of 
 major, when tendered to him by his superior officers. 
 
 u He never did anything for vainglory. But he never 
 shrunk from putting himself forward, at any personal risk, 
 when there was an object to be gained. In the charge of 
 Gordon s and Crawford s brigades at the crisis of the battle 
 of Antietam, under the last order of General Hooker, as he 
 left the field wounded, the Second Massachusetts and an 
 other regiment of Gordon s brigade advanced with their 
 lines at a slight angle, so that their converging fire almost 
 destroyed the opposing Rebel regiment, and they charged 
 directly over it. Colonel Dwight dismounted, took the 
 papers from the body of the Rebel colonel, seized the Rebel 
 colors, remounted, and rode up and down the line, under 
 the hot fire of the enemy, waving the flag to encourage the 
 men. 
 
 " As we talked of him, I recalled and quoted the histo 
 rian s description of the motives of a noble Roman youth, 
 
326 APPENDIX. 
 
 who left civil life for the military service of his country, 
 as contrasted with the idleness and luxury of many military 
 men. Sed noseere provinciam, nosci exercitui, discere a pe- 
 ritis, sequi optimos, nifiil appetere jactations, nihil ob formidi- 
 nem recmare, simulque anxius et intentus agere? When I 
 went home I opened the book to see whether I had not 
 remembered this more aptly than it was written ; and found 
 the very next sentence so strikingly applicable, that I ven 
 ture in this educated audience to quote that too. Non Bane 
 alias exercitatior, magisque in ambiguo, Britannia fuit : truci- 
 dati veterani, incensce colonice, intercepti exercitus : turn, de 
 salute, mox de victor id, certavereS It was at that moment, 
 when the Republic was safe, and about to be victorious, that 
 Wilder D wight fell." 
 
 Mr. Ellis followed with these remarks : 
 
 " MR. CHAIRMAN, To such testimony from teacher, part 
 ner, comrade, and friends nothing can be added. But, 
 considering who those are who have thus spoken, I may be 
 pardoned for trying to utter a word which it is fit should be 
 said for the Bar. 
 
 " We have lately had taken from our midst the fairest 
 lives that peace can produce, and only wept in silence. 
 But in an hour like this we must give utterance to our 
 feelings ; for, whether it be true or not, it surely is to be 
 expected that the value of States and institutions, results 
 of the labors of races for ages, is best known to those whose 
 lives are passed in study of the laws ; and that they feel 
 more than any others how sacred is the call of duty which 
 governs those who take up the sword to defend them. 
 
 " The brethren of the Bar, attesting their sense of the 
 worth of the friend whom they mourn, and his merit in going 
 forth, express their feeling at the conduct of others who 
 have gone from amongst them to fight, or to die, for their 
 country. 
 
 " Deliberately, solemnly, they now record their judgment, 
 
APPENDIX. 327 
 
 that he did the highest duty man could do, and died the 
 best death man can die." 
 
 The resolutions were unanimously adopted, and 
 the Attorney-General was requested to present them 
 to the Court. The meeting then adjourned. 
 
 PROCEEDINGS IN COURT. 
 
 ON the first day of October Term of the Supreme 
 Judicial Court for the County of Suffolk, Mr. Justice 
 Hoar presiding, Mr. Abbott offered the resolutions 
 adopted at the meeting of the Bar, and moved that 
 they be entered upon the records of the Court. He 
 introduced his motion with the following remarks: 
 
 "MAY IT PLEASE YOUR HONOR, Iii the absence of the 
 Attorney-General, the constituted organ of communication 
 between the Bar and this Court, and because, I suppose, I 
 was, out of the Bar and in the Bar, perhaps as near and 
 dear a friend of the deceased as any other one, I have been 
 requested by my brethren to present these resolutions to 
 your Honor ; and the occasion may make it fit, with the 
 permission of your Honor, before I make the formal motion 
 to enter these resolutions upon the records, that I should 
 say a few words in reference to our departed friend. 
 
 " I would not trtist myself to enter now, even when the 
 freshness of grief has been softened by time, into any length 
 ened, any careful, analysis of his character and his qualities ; 
 but, sir, occupying the position in reference to him which 
 I did, a position of great intimacy, remarkable, I may say, 
 between a person so young as he was for, with all he had 
 accomplished, he had not reached the age of thirty years 
 and a person of my years, I may be permitted to say, not in 
 
328 APPENDIX. 
 
 words of exaggeration, but in simplest words, and words 
 which utter but the simplest truth, what I know of him. 
 And if I were to characterize his peculiar qualities, I should 
 say, more in this than in anything else, was he remarkable, 
 that for a person so young, for a person who from his years 
 could have had so little knowledge of the affairs and conduct 
 of life, he was most mature, most mature in judgment and 
 in experience. I do not mean that he was one of those 
 most disagreeable of all persons, an old young man ; for, 
 though mature in judgment and in experience, he retained 
 all the grace and the freshness of youth, which you and I, 
 sir, as we recede farther from these days of youth, learn most 
 to prize and to value. In addition, sir, he had common 
 sense. He had a rare combination of common sense and 
 good judgment, a combination of those qualities which 
 would enable him, or any one else who may be the fortunate 
 possessor of them, to decide at once what he can do and 
 what he cannot do ; to see what is within his grasp 
 and what is within his power, and what is not, so as to 
 make his efforts tell, and not be constantly striving after 
 what is not within his power. That common sense, that 
 clear, good, sound judgment, in a person so young, com 
 bined with great energy and great force and power of will, 
 enabled him to be more practical, more successful, in doing 
 whatever he undertook than almost any man who had lived 
 so few years. Practically he was a man who accomplished 
 all things he undertook, and did well what he undertook, 
 because his good sense, his common sense, his good judg 
 ment, his clear head, enabled him to see what he could do, 
 and to know what he could do, and what he could not 
 do. 
 
 " In reference to his qualifications and his ability as a 
 lawyer, your Honor and your associates have some knowl 
 edge, because, although so young, he had often had the 
 pleasure of appearing before your Honor sitting at nisi prius, 
 and before your associates sitting as a Court of Law. For 
 
APPENDIX. 329 
 
 myself, after more than a score of years spent in courts, 
 almost living in them, and knowing something of the prac 
 tice of the law, and the way it should be practised, I can 
 only say, without being invidious to my friends around me, 
 I never knew so young a person in the whole of my ac 
 quaintance, or in the whole length and breadth of the 
 Commonwealth, whose future had more promise than the 
 future of Colonel D wight. I can say in reference to my 
 appreciation of him, and what I know you will appreciate, 
 as the highest evidence, in my judgment, of his qualifica 
 tions as a lawyer, that I have come up before you and your 
 associates the tribunal which I most respect above human 
 tribunals depending entirely upon briefs furnished by my 
 associate, this young man. I have trusted beginning with 
 the first cause he ever had occasion to try after being admitted 
 to the Bar trusted, what I should rarely do, the entire 
 preparation of causes to him, and sat down to the trial of 
 them without any personal attention to the preparation 
 myself. That, sir, is the highest possible testimony I can 
 give as to my own belief as to his qualifications and his 
 prospects. 
 
 " As a man, you knew him. He was just, he was true, 
 he was manly, he was generous. He was unselfish ; always 
 ready to devote himself to others ; ready to do more for 
 others than for himself. 
 
 " One single word as to his military career. You know 
 with what alacrity he sprang, at the first news of the break 
 ing out of the great Rebellion, to the defence of his country. 
 I recollect perfectly well, and shall never forget it, that be 
 ing engaged at that time in this court in the trial of a some 
 what important case, and, as you know, coming in early in 
 the morning and remaining until night, he came to me 
 before court in the morning with the announcement that he 
 desired to ask my opinion, although he had made up his 
 mind upon the matter. I think it was the very day after 
 the news had arrived of the first gun fired in this war which 
 
330 APPENDIX. 
 
 has so long desolated the land ; and the question was 
 whether he should offer his services to his country, wheth 
 er he should join with others in the defence of that Consti 
 tution and those Laws under which he and his had lived 
 and prospered. And, sir, now in full view of all that has 
 come to pass, I am glad that I gave my advice to him to do 
 as he had done. I could not hesitate, having, as I told him, 
 the very night before given the same advice to three of my 
 sons. We know with what energy, with what power, with 
 what earnestness of purpose, he joined in the work of organ 
 izing and taking to the seat of war the regiment with which 
 he was connected. To him, more than to any other man, 
 it is undoubtedly owing that the Commonwealth then had 
 a regiment sent to the war of which she had a right to be 
 proud, a regiment that has never retreated without orders, 
 which has always done its duty, and its whole duty. 
 
 " I know how he was thought of, because I have the testi 
 mony of one who was with him from the time the first sol 
 dier joined the regiment down to the time he laid down his 
 life, a few weeks before Colonel Dwight s death. You will 
 permit me to read here something I received from the one 
 I refer to, who was with him in the first fight of the regi 
 ment at Winchester, where this regiment, and mainly by 
 the efforts of the then Major D wight, saved the army-corps 
 of General Banks, marching sixty-three miles in thirty-six 
 hours, and fighting a large part of those hours. This ac 
 count is from one who was with him in the rear-guard : 
 His courage and coolness are worthy of all praise. He 
 walked about, apparently as unconcerned as if lounging on 
 Washington Street. His devotion to the wounded is sub 
 lime. He is my hero of the fight. The men never tire of 
 talking of him, and praising him. 
 
 " I could desire that some account might have been given 
 by an eyewitness of his reception by his regiment, and by 
 men of other regiments, on his return from his short cap 
 tivity, coming upon them unexpectedly. The account is 
 
APPENDIX. 331 
 
 most thrilling and most affecting. Although the war is 
 reaching to our borders, we can have no conception of the way 
 that men, who have shared the hardships of the march and 
 the dangers of the battle-field, are knit together in soul and 
 mind and heart ; and these soldiers were men of New Eng 
 land, cold and undemonstrative, unapt to show their feelings, 
 however strong ; yet you would have supposed that it was 
 the return to a regiment of Frenchmen, so demonstrative 
 were they on that occasion. 
 
 " His conduct was the same on that last sad day when 
 he was called to lay down his life. He showed the same 
 bravery as a man, the same skill as a soldier, the same 
 steadfastness of soul, when he was looking death full in the 
 face. He showed himself, as he was, in addition to all his 
 other qualities, a good and true Christian, a man who, I 
 know, always believed, always had faith in the Christian 
 religion ; and I may be permitted to say, that, while he laid 
 upon the battle-field penning a note to the one he loved 
 most and dearest on earth, he wound up by saying, and in so 
 doing well rounded off his life : c All is well with those that 
 have faith. 
 
 " In conclusion, sir, I can say of him, and can say of 
 him from knowledge, because I knew him most intimately 
 and loved him most dearly, that in all the relations of life, 
 as a son, as a brother, as a friend, as a citizen, he was 
 most dutiful, most loving, most true, most manly, and most 
 generous. 
 
 " I now move you, sir, that you will please to direct these 
 resolutions to be entered upon the records of the Court. 
 
 Mr. Justice Hoar responded : - 
 
 " GENTLEMEN OF THE BAR, The Court receive with sat 
 isfaction the tribute to the worth of your departed associate, 
 which the resolutions you have now presented so truthfully 
 and appropriately set forth. According to your request, I 
 
332 APPENDIX. 
 
 direct them to be entered upon the records of the Court, 
 as an enduring memorial of the estimation in which his 
 professional character was held by his brethren, and of the 
 impression made upon them by a life so honorably spent, so 
 nobly closed. 
 
 " Although the connection of Mr. Dwight with this bar 
 was a short one, it was long enough to exhibit the thorough 
 ness of his training, the clearness and strength of his intel 
 lect, his diligence as a student, the soundness of his judg 
 ment, and the manliness of his character. I feel that I may 
 speak for my brethren as well as myself, when I say that 
 he has attracted the notice of the Court as one of the most 
 promising young men practising at this bar, of uncommon 
 accomplishments and capacity, devoted to his chosen pro 
 fession with a zeal and fidelity which must have insured 
 distinction and success. 
 
 " Perhaps this is all which a just expression of sympathy 
 and respect, and the proprieties of the place and the occa 
 sion, require now to be said. But, gentlemen, when I think 
 that we are never again to see that bright, young face in 
 these scenes in which it was so familiar and so pleasant, 
 that we are here paying the last sad honors to his memory, 
 I feel that you will pardon me for adding a few words 
 prompted by personal affection for one whom, as pupil, as 
 sociate, and friend, I have known so intimately and loved 
 so well. 
 
 " You have spoken of him in terms of high praise ; but 
 he deserved it all. The honors you have paid to him have 
 been usually reserved for the leaders of the bar, for the 
 elders and sages of the law ; but his few years bore the fruit 
 of long life. And if it is ever permitted to be careless of 
 measuring the language of eulogy, to give full utterance to 
 our love and admiration, is it not when the bright promise 
 of youth is thus suddenly cut down ? As we advance in 
 life, the attainments of the best of us are subject to many 
 limitations and deductions. But the future of honor and 
 
APPENDIX. 333 
 
 usefulness that opened before him was unlimited ; and what 
 achievement or performance was ever equal to a great hope ? 
 He had, of course, not been engaged in many important 
 causes, but he had been in some, and his manner of dealing 
 with them was such as to excite the interest and respect of 
 his associates and antagonists. Though a beginner, and 
 never intrusive, he seemed to attach himself by a natural 
 affinity to the society of able men, and I suppose no man of 
 his age was on terms of intimacy and friendship with so 
 many of those who hold the front rank in the profession. 
 Yet he was the genial and sympathetic companion of the 
 large circle of his own age, among whom his strong sense, 
 ready wit, energy, cheerfulness, and cordial good fellowship 
 made him a natural leader. To those who knew him 
 slightly he may have seemed exacting and imperious ; but 
 to one who knew him well, it was evident that this decision 
 and readiness to act was only the assurance (if I may so use 
 the word) which springs from clear perceptions, conscious 
 power to produce results, and a resolute will-, a quality 
 often found attending great powers. He saw what ought 
 to be done, he knew he could do it, and he did it. He was 
 ambitious, but with no vulgar ambition. He had large views 
 of life, its objects, and its possibilities ; and for these with 
 thoughtful and diligent preparation he reserved himself, 
 seeking no sudden notoriety, and aspiring to no place or 
 honor but those which are awarded to substantial service. 
 It was characteristic of him, that with every advantage for 
 an early entrance upon active life, he delayed entering upon 
 the practice of his profession until after a period much more 
 than that usually allotted to preparatory study. Of a family 
 among the most respectable in our Commonwealth, from a 
 refined and cultivated home, his mind enriched with the 
 learning of the University and matured by foreign travel, 
 he came to the practice of his profession, undoubtedly with 
 the purpose to seek eminence in it, but to seek it only in the 
 lofty path of usefulness and honor. He was intrinsically 
 
334 APPENDIX. 
 
 modest, and, coupled with such energy and force of will, it 
 was a beautiful trait of his character. 
 
 " You have alluded, sir, in presenting the resolutions, to 
 his military career. When he had first determined to offer 
 his services to the government, to give his time and his tal 
 ents to the cause of the country, with that practical skill and 
 sagacity which always attended his actions, he set about 
 making his services efficient for the purpose which he had 
 in view, and he determined to raise a regiment, and as the 
 beginning, to provide a sufficient fund for the purpose ; and 
 he set 011 foot a large and successful subscription. Next he 
 looked for officers skilled in command, fitted by education 
 and character and capacity for the purpose, and he associated 
 himself with such in organizing the regiment. But for 
 himself it required some urging to induce him to take a 
 place among the field-officers. He said to me that if he 
 could be a captain or a lieutenant, with his inexperience in 
 military matters, it ought to be as much as he should under 
 take. He was appointed major of the regiment, and I re 
 member, when the regiment was nearly ready to start, the 
 great amount of labor which its preparation involved being 
 done, I said to him, just as he had received his commission, 
 I was glad that I had a friend appointed to that particular 
 place, so that now I might ascertain what I never knew 
 what the duties of a major were. Said he, They are, the 
 oretically, nothing ; practically, everything. 
 
 " His views of the war and its objects were such as you 
 would expect from his unselfish character. He gave him 
 self to that duty, when he embraced the military profession, 
 with the same singleness of purpose and entire devotion 
 with which he had given himself to the other duties of life. 
 Whatever his hand found to do, he did it with his might. 
 JEt sive ad rem militarem, sive ad juris scientiam, sive ad 
 doquentice studium inclinasset, id solum ageret, id universum. 
 hauriret. 
 
 " From such a character as his what had we not to hope ? 
 What a future was before him ! 
 
APPENDIX. 335 
 
 * For can I doubt, who knew thce keen 
 
 In intellect, with force and skill 
 
 To strive, to fashion, to fulfil, 
 I doubt not what thou wouldst have been/ 
 
 " I hold in my hand, brethren, something that I cannot 
 forbear to read to yon, and which brings to my own mind, 
 with a vividness that I cannot express, that cheerful, bright 
 presence, which was always an encouragement and a stimu 
 lant. After he had received his mortal wound, which he 
 knew to be mortal, and had opened his eyes from a period 
 of exhaustion to find the familiar face of his friend, the 
 Chaplain of the regiment, bending over him, with a firm 
 look and a natural smile, he said, " It is all right, all 
 right." The narrator proceeds, I replied, " I thank God 
 you feel so cheerful," when he added, (and you notice the 
 brisk and rapid manner of the soldier, but how characteristic 
 of him whom we so well remember,) " Now, Chaplain, I 
 know I am done for, but I want you to understand I don t 
 flinch a hair. I should like to live a few days, so as to see 
 my father and mother. They think a good deal of me, es 
 pecially my mother. Too much. (This was said smilingly.) 
 But apart from that, if God calls for me this minute, I am 
 ready to go." 
 
 " Tender and loving son, firm friend, true soldier, Chris 
 tian hero, we give thee up to thy fame ! For you, life has 
 been enough. 
 
 Goodness and greatness are not means, but ends. 
 
 For us, there is left the precious legacy of his life. Brethren, 
 it is well that we should pause, as we are entering upon our 
 stated and accustomed duties, to draw inspiration from such 
 an example. For who can think of that fair and honorable 
 life, and of the death which that young soldier died, without 
 a new sense of what is worthiest in human pursuits, a 
 stronger devotion to duty, a warmer ardor of patriotism, 
 a surer faith in immortality ! " 
 
APPENDIX IV. 
 
 AT a meeting of members of the Class of 1853, of 
 Harvard College, at the Parker House, on the 
 evening of September 23, 1862, called to take notice 
 of the death of Lieutenant-Colonel Wilder Dwight, a 
 member of the same, it was unanimously 
 
 " Resolved, That in the death of Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Dwight the University has lost a graduate who, in his 
 life and services, and still more by the promise of future 
 usefulness and distinction (so prematurely disappointed), 
 has reflected new honor on the places of his birth and edu 
 cation. 
 
 " Resolved, That we recognize in his military career and 
 death the same activity, earnestness, and practical ability 
 which ever distinguished him, and which have been the 
 subject of honorable mention by his commanding officer, 
 Colonel, now General, Gordon, in his official report, when 
 he wrote of this promising and brave officer, so cool upon 
 the field, so efficient everywhere, so much beloved in his 
 regiment, and whose gallant services on the night of the 
 24th instant will never be forgotten by them. 
 
 " Resolved, That we attend his funeral, and transmit a 
 copy of these resolutions to the family of the deceased, as a 
 token of our most respectful sympathy in their affliction." 
 
 The above resolutions were transmitted to the 
 family of Colonel Dwight, accompanied by the fol 
 lowing letter : 
 
APPENDIX. 337 
 
 "BOSTON, September 24, 1862. 
 
 " WILLIAM DWIGHT, ESQ., 
 
 " DEAR SIR, The resolutions which I have the honor 
 of transmitting to you herewith are not valuable as coming 
 from a body of any importance, or whose notice is supposed 
 to add anything to the distinction of Colonel Dwight s name, 
 but must be taken as an expression of the feelings of private 
 friends, who knew him before his entrance into professional 
 and public life, and who watched his course with an interest 
 which strangers could not feel. 
 
 " Allow me, sir, to add my own regrets at the loss of a 
 friend with whom I always held the kindest relations, and 
 for whose unsullied integrity and great abilities I always 
 entertained a profound respect. 
 
 " In behalf of the Class Committee. 
 
 " Very respectfully your obedient servant, 
 
 " SAMUEL S. SHAW." 
 
APPENDIX V. 
 
 A DIRGE. 
 
 HEAD AT THE CLASS SUPPER OP THE CLASS OF 1853, COMMENCEMENT 
 EVENING, 1863. > 
 
 MOURN for the young ! 
 Mourn for the brave ! 
 He sleeps beneath the sod, 
 With all the stars of God 
 To watch his grave. 
 He gave himself for us 
 In battle glorious, 
 And shall he go unsung ? 
 
 Mourn for the young ! 
 Mourn for the brave ! 
 About his gallant head 
 Did battle-banners wave ; 
 About his dying bed 
 The bullet sung ; 
 The cannon s thunder rung 
 The triumph in his ear. 
 The spirit is with God ; 
 The body with the clod ; 
 But memory with us here. 
 
 Vanished like a vanished flame, 
 That comprehensive wit, 
 That nobleness of aim, 
 And force to compass it. 
 
APPENDIX. 339 
 
 Glory claims him hers, and we 
 Must lay him down. 
 There is none left like thee, 
 King jewel of our crown ! 
 But when a hero dies, 
 Thank God! the cause 
 Of country, freedom, laws, 
 Lives by the sacrifice ! 
 
 Mourn for the young ! 
 
 Mourn for the brave ! 
 
 The slow vine creeps around 
 
 The soldier s grave. 
 
 Long be votive garlands flung 
 
 Upon the sacred mound ! 
 
 And when a hundred years 
 
 Lose record of our tears, 
 
 Still will the voice of fame 
 
 Exult to name his name ; 
 And every spring the clover and the sorrel 
 Make haste to bloom for crown and laurel ! 
 
 E. J. CUTLER. 
 
APPENDIX VI. 
 
 THE following is extracted from a notice of Wilder 
 Dwight which appeared in the Boston Courier 
 immediately after his death. It is inserted here as 
 containing an admirable analysis of his mind and 
 character. 
 
 " . . . . He possessed powers of a most uncommon order, 
 and which seemed destined to raise him to an exalted posi 
 tion in the profession of the law 
 
 " His success at the bar was very rapid ; and few young 
 men had so high, and none a higher, position in the profes 
 sion than he had when he left it for the field. 
 
 " He had studied law with great assiduity, and his knowl 
 edge of the science was not only extensive and exact, but 
 also, systematic and practical. His perceptions were quick, 
 his memory good, and his reasoning powers singularly acute 
 and vigorous. He frequently, during the four years he was 
 in practice, appeared before the Supreme Court in bane, 
 and many of his arguments there displayed learning, re 
 search, and vigorous practical logic, which would have done 
 credit to many of the leaders of his profession. But of his 
 abilities there was only one opinion among his brethren. 
 We never heard a young lawyer, who was acquainted with 
 him, in naming the promising young men of the Bar, fail to 
 mention Mr. Dwight amongst the very first. 
 
 " Mr. D wight s literary acquirements were also of a supe 
 rior kind. In the history and literature of his profession he 
 was exceedingly well versed, and his knowledge of the lives 
 and characters of the great ornaments of the Bar, both in 
 England and this country, was very great. 
 
APPENDIX. 341 
 
 " He had also read, in general literature, much more than 
 young men are apt to do in these days, not being satisfied, 
 as too many are, with skimming over the pages of the Edin 
 burgh Quarterly or North American, and to rest with the 
 smattering information which the periodical publications 
 afforded him. His quick perception and keen discrimina 
 tion enabled him, undoubtedly, to succeed with much less 
 study and much less profound learning than persons of 
 slower and less pointed intellects could ; but he was too 
 wise to trust very much to these, and his acquirements were 
 anything but superficial. His style, both in writing and 
 speaking, was singularly concise and sententious ; and in 
 discussing any subject, his thoughts and arguments came so 
 rapidly, pointedly, and tersely from his lips as greatly to 
 embarrass his opponent. His temper was quick, and often 
 overbearing ; and had he lived, this would have been, at 
 times, very uncomfortable to his opponents ; but in private 
 life it interfered little with the extreme good nature and 
 generosity of his disposition ; and we think his personal 
 friends seldom had reason to complain of unkindness or 
 irritability from him. His courage, moral and physical, was 
 undaunted, and was strengthened by the self-confidence and 
 reliance naturally arising from his knowledge that he pos 
 sessed unusual mental powers and resources ; and we know 
 no one who possessed, to a greater degree, the pluck which 
 the English so much admire 
 
 " The remembrance of most members of the Bar, however 
 high their position, soon becomes reduced to traditions 
 among their successors. Still less can it be expected that 
 the reputation of young barristers will survive. But if at 
 the Bar he be forgotten, and among the crowd of the fallen 
 brave of this war his name be lost, it will be long, very long, 
 before, among his friends and associates, mention ceases to 
 
 be made of Wilder D wight. 
 
 C. H. H. 
 
342 APPENDIX. 
 
 The value of the tribute quoted above is enhanced 
 by the fact that the writer was not restrained by the 
 partiality of intimate friendship from recognizing the 
 easily besetting fault against which nearly a life-long 
 struggle was maintained. In justice to the memory 
 of Wilder Dwight, however, it should here be said, 
 that those who saw him most intimately when he 
 was last at home, after a year s service in the army, 
 were impressed by the conquest which, in this respect, 
 he had achieved. 
 
 He had, in anticipation, laid down his life for hia 
 country, and with that act of self-surrender he seemed 
 to have cast behind him everything which could, in 
 any way, mar the beauty of the sacrifice he so freely 
 offered. 
 
APPENDIX VII. 
 
 IN the autumn of 1861, while the Second Massachu 
 setts Eegiment was at " Pleasant Hill Camp, near 
 Darnestown," and at " Camp near Seneca," in Mary 
 land, it was near the farm of Mr. Desellum for many 
 weeks. 
 
 During that period he visited the camp frequently 
 for the purpose of taking to it the produce of his 
 farm. 
 
 In this way he became acquainted with Colonel 
 Dwight, and so much attached to him, that, on hear 
 ing of his death, he sent to his family the following 
 tribute to his worth : 
 
 " .... I cannot describe my feelings when I received the 
 sad intelligence that the kind, the brave, the noble Colonel 
 Wilder Dwight was no more. I have not language to con 
 vey my sorrow, nor the worth of the deceased. Regarding 
 Colonel Dwight, after a year s acquaintance, as one of the 
 noblest of men, which I can conscientiously say without 
 flattery, it gives me great satisfaction to bear my humble 
 testimony to his distinguished memory and merit. My first 
 impression of Colonel Dwight was, that he was a reliable 
 gentleman ; subsequent intercourse confirmed my opinion. 
 At all times I found him kind and courteous, uniting po 
 liteness and simplicity with the dignity of a gentleman. I 
 saw in him a master-mind, quick in perception, eager for 
 information. I noted his quick movements, invincible 
 determination, restless desire to combat or overcome ob 
 stacles. 
 
344 APPENDIX. 
 
 " I had opportunities to see the Colonel s true character ; 
 being only a private and obscure citizen myself, there was 
 no necessity for him to disguise (which he never did) his 
 true character. My frequent interviews with him have 
 made an impression of his worth that can never be for 
 gotten. 
 
 " Far away from home, amidst the varied temptations to 
 indulgence of a camp life, his moral character remained 
 untarnished. He was ever watchful of the morality and 
 discipline of his regiment, his own personal example al 
 ways conspicuous, no trifling jests or conversation were 
 indulged in by him. 
 
 " His active and well-trained mind was continually in 
 vestigating and digesting all the information within his 
 reach. I never found him idle. 
 
 " Space will not permit me here to detail what I know of 
 Colonel Dwight s vigilance in guarding and collecting in 
 formation while in camp on the Seneca Creek last fall. 
 Ceaseless application and untiring devotion to his country 
 were predominant. 
 
 " Of his arduous duties in camp, his devotion and atten 
 tion to the wants and comforts of his men, I have been an 
 eyewitness. 
 
 " He was brave, almost to temerity. How effectual was 
 his example is best seen in the intrepidity, courage, and 
 devotion of the Second Massachusetts Regiment. 
 
 " I never had a conversation with the Colonel on sacred 
 subjects, but his strict morality impressed me with the be 
 lief that he fully appreciated the doctrines of the Gospel. 
 
 " His last words, the language of the dying patriot, show 
 that the ruling passion was strong in death. The battle of 
 Antietam, in magnitude and results, will be referred to till 
 the end of time. Who does not envy the death of a patriot 
 on such an occasion ?".... 
 
APPENDIX VIII. 
 
 TT^XTKACT from a letter written during a visit 
 1^ to Maryland and Virginia in the spring of 
 1866: 
 
 "HARPER S FERRY, May, 1866. 
 
 "... . Finding myself in the immediate vicinity of Mary 
 land Heights, I was bent upon visiting the spot where the 
 Massachusetts Second encamped during the summer of 
 1861, when Wilder wrote so enthusiastically of the scenery. 
 
 " I was misdirected, by a man at the hotel, to the very 
 summit of the Heights. I had Wilder s letter with me, 
 describing the situation of the camp. With that as my 
 guide, I was quite sure, on reaching the top of the moun 
 tain, that far beneath me lay the farm upon which was the 
 camp of the Second. There was the broad table-flat, not, 
 as when he described it, white with tents and alive with 
 armed men and vocal with martial music, but with its old 
 farm-house and out-buildings looking so solitary and so 
 peaceful that it seemed impossible it could ever have been 
 the seat of war. 
 
 " I had been misdirected quite away from the proper path, 
 yet, I could hardly regret it, as I remembered how often Wil 
 der had written of his rides on horseback to the top of the 
 mountain, first over a rough path cut by the Kebels two 
 months before, and afterwards over the road cut by the 
 immortal Second, the very road which I had been pursu 
 ing. 
 
 " I descended to the farm, which was now my goal, by a 
 shorter path, on foot. It was very steep and rough, yet 
 there was a certain pleasure in the wild and strange expe 
 rience. 
 
346 APPENDIX. 
 
 " You might enjoy, Wilder wrote, l the tangled path 
 way through the woods ; you would certainly find a thirsty 
 pleasure at the spring of pure water which pulses from the 
 heart of the mountain. And now I reached the spring 
 which I recognized as the one at which Wilder had often 
 been refreshed. After drinking the water, I stepped upon 
 the plateau. Here was the farm upon which the Massachu 
 setts Second encamped in July, 1861. A more delightful 
 spot cannot be imagined. 
 
 " I met the farmer just coming out from his barn. I said 
 to him, Did you occupy this farm in July, 61, when the 
 Massachusetts Second encamped here ? Yes, I did, said 
 he ; why ? were you here then ? No, I replied ; 4 1 asked 
 because my son was, at that time, the Major of the regi 
 ment. At this the man took my hand and grasped it with 
 all his might, as he said, 4 You are not Major Dwight s 
 mother, are you ? The tears filled his eyes ; he tried to 
 speak, but his voice was choked, as he said, The Major 
 lived here a good while, he took his meals with us in this 
 house all the time the regiment was here. He took me on 
 to the piazza of the house, and gave me a seat. He sat 
 down beside me, but seemed unable to say another word. 
 I talked to him, and read to him from Wilder s letter what 
 he said of the friendly supper he had given them on the 
 first night of their arrival. Soon the man said, 4 1 11 go call 
 my wife ; she can talk to you about him better than I can. 
 Almost immediately a brisk little woman made her appear 
 ance, with both hands extended to take mine. ! I did 
 love him ! she said ; everybody loved him, the servants, 
 the children, the officers, the soldiers, he was beloved by 
 all. His kind sympathy for me I shall never forget. When 
 we were overrun here by the army, and our house was 
 taken as a hospital, and we were turned out of it into one 
 of the out-buildings, he showed such sympathy and kindness 
 for me ; he would have stayed the torrent if he could. I 
 said to her, I am thankful that I have found this spot. 
 
APPENDIX. 347 
 
 I think lie never was so happy anywhere during his army 
 life as he was here ; he enjoyed the scenery so much. 4 ! 
 he had a fine imagination, she replied ; he would sit at 
 the western window of that room at sunset, and look out 
 upon the view, and draw inspiration from it ; and then he 
 would talk and look so happy and seem to enjoy it so much. 
 And such a smile as he had ! I never met him all the time 
 he was here that he did n t give me that smile. I used to 
 say to him, Major, you shed sunshine wherever you go. 
 She took me in to her best room, that I might sit at the 
 window which he enjoyed so much. Then she led me to 
 the porch on the western side of the house, that she might 
 show me the seat he used to occupy there ; where, she said, 
 he often wrote his letters to me. 
 
 " She gave me several characteristic anecdotes of him, 
 illustrating his kindness and sympathy for her. She said 
 she wished she had known I was coming, that she might 
 have recalled more incidents connected with him to tell me. 
 I shall think of a great many more when you are gone, 
 she said. I am too much excited to remember them all 
 now, so suddenly. Her husband kept out of the way 
 while we were talking of Wilder. 4 He never can bear to 
 speak of a friend who has died, she said ; but I feel so 
 differently. I love to talk of the Major. 
 
 " Among the many illustrations which this journey has 
 furnished of Wilder s c remarkable power of impressing him 
 self upon all with whom he came in contact, no one has 
 affected me more deeply than this visit to good Mr. and Mrs. 
 Unsel, of Maryland Heights." .... 
 
APPENDIX IX. 
 
 THE following tribute to Colonel D wight appeared, 
 on the occasion of his death, in The Examiner, 
 a paper published in Frederick City, Maryland. It 
 was written by the Eev. George Dhiel, D. D., of Fred 
 erick, at whose house, among others, Colonel Dwight, 
 with Chaplain Quint, was warmly welcomed on his 
 way to Antietam. 
 
 It is the more valuable as showing the power 
 Colonel Dwight possessed of winning the love and 
 respect even of comparative strangers. 
 
 "DEATH OF A GALLANT OFFICER. 
 
 " Lieutenant-Colonel Wilder Dwight, a brave and faithful 
 officer, was mortally wounded in the battle of Antietam, on 
 Wednesday, the 17th ultimo, at eleven, A. M., and died at 
 the house of Mr. Jacob Thomas, near Boonsboro , on Friday 
 afternoon following. His remains were brought to Fred 
 erick the same evening, and the next day, in the charge of 
 his brother, Colonel William Dwight, together with several 
 officers of his own regiment, were taken to Boston for inter 
 ment. Lieutenant-Colonel Dwight was a young man of 
 great merit and superior accomplishments. The son of 
 wealthy parents, he enjoyed from early life the advantages 
 of the best society and education that the city of his resi 
 dence, the Athens of America, could afford. He was grad 
 uated with distinguished honors at Harvard University. 
 After spending some time in Europe, he studied law in 
 Boston. In due time he was admitted to practice in the 
 
APPENDIX. 349 
 
 several courts of the city, and soon took his place in the 
 very first rank among the young men of the Boston Bar. 
 
 " Upon the breaking out of the Rebellion he felt it his 
 duty to offer his services in the cause of his country. He 
 was chosen Major of the Second Regiment Massachusetts 
 Volunteers, and during the last summer was promoted to a 
 lieutenant-colonelcy. Connected with General Banks s divis 
 ion, during the last winter he spent several months in this 
 place, and endeared himself to all who made his acquaint 
 ance. 
 
 " Gentle, noble, generous, and self-sacrificing, he was 
 eminently distinguished for his social excellences, and 
 respected by all. 
 
 " His untimely death in the hour of victory and the full 
 pride of manhood is sad indeed, and has filled with sorrow 
 a large circle of friends in this city. 
 
 " D." 
 
APPENDIX X. 
 
 THE following lines appeared in the Boston Daily 
 Advertiser on the morning of the day of Captain 
 Howard Dwight s burial. 
 
 HOWARD DWIGHT. 
 
 DIED MAT 4, 1863. 
 
 Another wail of saddest music heard, 
 
 Another slow procession winding through 
 
 The ways once so familiar to his feet, 
 
 Another flood of tears to overflow 
 
 The cup e en now filled to the brim with grief, 
 
 And we have paid our last respects to him, 
 
 The second offering of a stricken house. 
 
 Father ! God give thee strength to bear the stroke ; 
 
 And mother ! pray thee Heaven may stay thy faith ; 
 
 So that when side by side these brothers lie, 
 
 Your two brave children, loved and praised by all, 
 
 Ye 11 say with us, t is well such men have lived, 
 
 To die examples for those left behind. 
 
 F. B. 
 
 May 22, 1863. 
 
APPENDIX XI. 
 
 WITHIN the rock which overhangs the grave of 
 Wilder and Howard D wight is inserted a sim 
 ple tablet of bronze, bearing a double inscription ; 
 the dividing line being two swords, in relievo, sus 
 pended by their knots ; their hilts wreathed with 
 laurel. Leaves of the laurel and of the oak form the 
 edge of the tablet. The inscription is as follows : 
 
 HERE LIE THE BODIES OF 
 WILDER DWIGHT, LIEUTENANT-COLONEL OF THE SECOND REGIMENT 
 
 OF MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS, AND 
 
 HOWARD DWIGHT, CAPTAIN AND ASSISTANT ADJUTANT-GENERAL 
 IN THE SERVICE OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 WILDER, 
 
 SECOND SON OF WILLIAM 
 
 AND ELIZABETH A. DWIGHT, 
 
 WAS BORN IN SPRINGFIELD, 
 
 APRIL 23, 1833. 
 
 HE WAS MORTALLY WOUNDED 
 
 IN THE BATTLE OF ANTIETAM, 
 
 AND DIED AFTER TWO DAYS, 
 
 NEAR THE FIELD OF BATTLE, 
 
 SEPTEMBER 19, 1862. 
 IN THE THIRTIETH YEAR 
 
 OF HIS AGE. 
 
 AS HE LAY WOUNDED AND ALONE 
 
 UNDER THE FIRE OF THE ENEMY, 
 
 HE WROTE, WITH OTHER WORDS 
 
 OF COMFORT, TO HIS MOTHER 
 
 THESE WORDS: 
 "ALL is WELL WITH THOSE 
 
 WHO HAVE FAITH." 
 
 HOWARD, 
 
 FOURTH SON OF WILLIAM 
 
 AND ELIZABETH A. DWIGHT, 
 
 WAS BORN IN SPRINGFIELD, 
 
 OCTOBER 29, 1837. 
 IN THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST 
 
 PORT HUDSON HE WAS 
 
 SURPRISED AND KILLED 
 
 BY GUERILLAS, NEAR THE 
 
 BAYOU BOZUF, LOUISIANA, 
 
 MAY 4, 1863. 
 IN THE TWENTY-SIXTH YEAR 
 
 OF HIS AGE. 
 BEFORE DEATH CAME, 
 
 HE HAD CHEERFULLY 
 DECLARED HIMSELF WILLING 
 
 TO DIE FOR THE CAUSE 
 
 TO WHICH HIS BROTHER 
 
 HAD GIVEN HIS LIFE. 
 
 "NO MAN CAN SUFFER TOO MUCH, AND NO MAN CAN FALL TOO SOON, 
 
 IF HE SUFFER OR IF HE FALL 
 IN DEFENCE OF THE LIBERTIES AND CONSTITUTION 
 
 OF HIS COUNTRY." 
 
 "THEY REST FROM THEIR LABORS, 
 
 AND THEIR WORKS DO FOLLOW THEM." 
 
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