Camp Near Conrad's Ferry, October 24, 1861,
Thursday Morning.
The 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 generals?
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 moonlight
towards Poolesville, at nine o'clock in the evening.
We supposod 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. “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 morning
broke, — a wild, gusty, rainy morning, — upon our shelterless and weary
regiment. The only house near where the 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 fellow, 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 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. Ho was in the
primitive costume of his overcoat and drawers, but full of cheery pluck, calm,
clear, and a young hero in bearing and aspect. He gave a clear account of
himself. I was compelled to go back to the regiment. 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 things on the river, when I found General Banks and
General McClellan in his quarters. I enjoyed hearing McClellan 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 ordered 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 Edward'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 addressed
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 fatiguing 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 little. . . . .
Providence seems to
have watched over the Massachusetts 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.
SOURCE: Elizabeth
Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col.
Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 120-2
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