June 3, 1862.
Last night, as we officers were sitting around our tents
after supper, we suddenly heard a shout from the further side of the camp of “Major!
the Major!” which was instantly taken up all over the field, followed by a
rush of the men towards the guard tent: we all followed, and, passing across
the lines, discovered the Major coming up the hill to camp, in a little old
wagon. I wish you could have heard the shout the men set up when he fairly came
in reach of them. They finally made a rush at him; it seemed as if they would
tear him to pieces in their eagerness to touch his hand or some part of him;
every cap was off and every face was on the broad grin. When he did get through
the men, Colonel Gordon got hold of him and shook his hands and hugged him in
the heartiest and most affectionate way; so he was passed along until all had
given him a greeting.
After a short time spent in congratulations, Major Dwight
returned to the men, who had not yet dispersed and were watching his every movement.
He made a short speech, and then proceeded to give an account of every man
of the regiment who was killed, wounded, or a prisoner. He had attended the
burial, himself, of all of our dead, and had visited the wounded, who were all
doing well. He was able to contradict entirely all stories of the rebel
soldiers' cruelties; they had not killed a single wounded man, but had treated
them kindly; the citizens were much worse than the soldiers. When he spoke of
Company I and their large number of killed and wounded, he said he could not
help asking for three cheers for their gallant conduct at the Kernstown bridge
on Saturday night; they were given with a will. The Major mentioned each of the
wounded by name, and had something pleasant to say about almost every one
relating to some little peculiarities, which the men understood.
After Major Dwight had finished, Colonel Gordon made a few
remarks, ending by calling for three cheers for the Major. Three times three
and a “tiger” were given, and the men dispersed, happy as they could be. One of
the pleasantest things that has developed by our late action is the kindly
feeling shown by the men to the officers; they have learned their dependence on
them, and have confidence now in their pluck and willingness to share every
danger with them.
We received a great deal of interesting information from the
Major, — none more so than this: Major Wheat, of a Louisiana battalion, told
Major Dwight that on Saturday night their loss must have been ten to our one,
and he wanted to know what regiment it was that was ambuscaded all along the
road; he said that after their cavalry had been driven back, the Second and
Fifth Virginia regiments had been ordered to the front, and it was with them
that we did most of our fighting that night. Their loss was very heavy,
including a number of officers.
Major Dwight was taken prisoner in Winchester; he had just
helped a wounded man into a house and was surrounded by rebel cavalry before he
could get away. He surrendered in the cool manner he does everything. He made
friends with everybody and succeeded in getting paroled; he left this morning
for Washington with his brother, to try and effect his exchange. Drs. Stone and
Leland have both been unconditionally released. L. is still at Winchester,
taking care of our wounded. The correct statement about our company is, one
killed, four wounded, and twelve prisoners. Jackson and his army are
disheartened; they did not entertain a doubt but that they would capture Banks
and his division, bag and baggage, and then make a foray into Maryland, but by
good luck, we got out of this scrape with pretty whole skins. Captain Mudge is
at Frederick; his wound is very painful. Crowinshield will be able to be moved
in a few days and will go home. Major Dwight saw over a hundred of their dead
buried Sunday.
I have just come in from a brigade review, almost melted;
two mortal hours have we stood under a scorching sun, ready to drop.
SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written
During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 64-6
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