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 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 have a
telegraphic despatch from General 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. “We just left General Hamilton safe and happy at
Winchester, 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 Winchester 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 caution, 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 Charlestown. 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 regiment 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 Hackleman's babes were in
the wood, and Robbin Henroosts had covered them with softer covering
than leaves. Our regiment is in perfect condition, and the men have really
become practised and expert soldiers. Our train came up this morning, 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 I am more than ever
pleased and contented with the Second Regiment.
Have we not a Monitor afloat? Was not her
providential 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, perhaps; 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 kin. 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 “boys” of the Sixteenth Indiana
Regiment, who were posted there. The Hoosiers have very vague notions of
property and Rebel 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.
SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and
Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 206-10
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