Major Wilder Dwight to Captain Howard Dwight, a few days after June 6, 1862

Dear Captain, — How are you? I'm prisoner of war. It seems to run in the family.* I hope you won't have it. I 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 very impatient to be back to the regiment.

_______________

* Colonel William Dwight, Jr. was taken prisoner after the battle of Williamsburg.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 271

Diary of Sergeant George G. Smith: May 10, 1863

General Weitzel and Dwight's brigade started again in pursuit of the enemy up the Rapides Bayou about thirty-five miles to where they had burned a bridge and the chase was abandoned.

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 52

Diary of Sergeant George G. Smith: May 6, 1863

Lieutenant Dwight, the General's brother, was shot by a guerilla. He had been to the rear with dispatches and when returning, in passing a wood, he was shot from behind the trees. One of the fellows was caught, not the one that fired the shot, but they were together so he had to die for it. The army started at 5 a. m., marched about a mile and halted. A grave had been dug. The prisoner was brought out and kneeling beside the grave, facing the firing party, the warrant was read, and the command given to fire. He fell forward on his face. I thought I heard some pistol shots afterward, but I had seen all I wanted to, and the army was again in motion. At night we entered Alexandria, said to be thirty miles from the place where we started in the morning. The army marched through the town and camped in a ploughed field. In passing through the streets there was a house with a bright fire on the hearth. A girl was standing in the door, and I heard her say, “See the scabs.” I was too weary to reply, but I gathered from it that we were not very welcome. As soon as the companies broke ranks I gathered some sticks and weeds, made a cup of coffee, ate some hard tack and salt junk, took a good smoke, laid down between two hummocks, and I was soon in the arms of Morpheus.

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 51-2

Diary of Sergeant George G. Smith: April 22, 1863

General Dwight's brigade again on the march.

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 49

Major Wilder Dwight, May 9, 1862

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 develop 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 Secretary 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 programme.

With that pitiful force to which Banks's “army corps” is now reduced, and at that point fifty miles back of our recent advance, we have no other hope or purpose than protecting 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 best 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. Perhaps we shall make some effort to get into an active department 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, isn't it?

We are having very bright, warm weather, and this valley 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.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 244-5

Diary of Sergeant George G. Smith: Sunday, March 31, 1863

Whole division of twelve regiments, General Dwight commanding, started down Bayou Lafourche towards Burwick Bay. I remained in hospital.

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 43

Major Wilder Dwight, May 6, 1862

in Bivouac Massanatan Pass, Opposite New Market,

May 6, 1862.

A word with you in the rough confusion of our mountain 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 regiment 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. 1 was busy posting grand guards and outposts till eleven. At twelve, another 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?

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 Charley. I hope William is now lucky. Memphis will fall before you get this. Hurrah!

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 243-4

Major Wilder Dwight, April 24, 1862

Camp Between New Market And Sparta,

Thursday, April 24, 1862.

When I awoke on Easter morning in my dripping bivouac, 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 Jackson's force has crossed the gap, and is on its way to Gordonsville. “The Valley” is cleared; and General Banks has been enjoying himself with a “general order” of congratulation, 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 Gordonsville.

I have enjoyed for the past two days the slight alleviation 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, 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 bottom, over which our approach would have been made.

We saw one scene in the course of our ride which illustrates 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 husband 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 intelligent man. He heard John Randolph's maiden speech in Congress at Philadelphia. He sat in Richmond in the Convention 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 Washington'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 exhibition 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 didn't want to go South. Q. The South are your friends, ain't they? A. No, dey isn't no friends to colored people. Q. Well, what made you think we should be? Didn'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, didn'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 choose to go back. Now, what are you going to do? Ain't you going to do something? ain't you going to turn somersets?” 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. “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 drilling 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.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 237-40

Major Wilder Dwight to Elizabeth White Dwight, January 5, 1862

cantonment Hicks, January 5, 1862, near Frederick.

DEAR Mother, — The New Year is fairly open, yet my pen has been silent. I would have had it otherwise, 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 discussions 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. . . . .

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 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 fighting New Year.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 184-5

Major Wilder Dwight: December 25, 1861

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 reveillé 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 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 war 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 arming 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, honorable 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 Dwight, at the office, sir! He's a splendid officer, sir!” So echo I. Love and good wishes to all.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 180-1

Major Wilder Dwight: November 1, 1861

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 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 impressions 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 underwriters class the events very differently. And in our national 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 wouldn'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 “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 Sunday 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 equipment, — 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 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'll be up in a day or two

“Happy that nation whose annals are tiresome,” writes some one. “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.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 133-5

Major Wilder Dwight: October 28, 1861

camp Near Seneca, October 28, 1861.

I 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 countermarching was still fresh. The chill of the October morning 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 pleasure 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 stockings 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, sheltered 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 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, apparently 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 regiment 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 General 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.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 131-2

Major Wilder Dwight: October 21, 1861 – 7 p.m.

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 battalion 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 tonight, 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."

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 119

Major Wilder Dwight: Monday Morning, October 21, 1861

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 Dwight prancing about his camp on horseback, 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 pleasant 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.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 118

Major Wilder Dwight: October 4, 1861

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 Kannesch, “II ne sait pas êtra joli mais il est bon.” 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 the human family, and that he has got an awful work before him, and not seeing evidence of his doing anything in particular, 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 entirely, 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 regiments 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,” pointing to our camp, “is the best and neatest camp on the continent.” Words, I believe, of truth and soberness. My visit to Washington tended to satisfy me with our regiment. Good night. I must go out upon a tour of sentinel inspection, which will last till three o'clock in the morning. A soldier's life is always gay.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 109-11

Major Wilder Dwight: October 2, 1861

washington, Willard's Hotel, October 2, 1861.

The 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 uninviting. 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.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 109

Colonel William F. Bartlett to Harriett Plummer Bartlett, March 4, 1863

March 4.

This morning orders came for a review in “heavy marching order,” by General Augur. I cautioned the men to “polish up,” and at half past two we turned out, as fine a looking line as you often see. The men stood very steadily, and marched very well. After going back to camp and leaving the knapsacks, etc., I took them out to practice with blank cartridges. At first they were nervous, and did poorly, but after I had given them a very severe talking to, I tried them again at charging in line, and they did it splendidly. Their fire by battalion was like one gun. I then formed a hollow square, and fired from all sides. My horse, inside the square, behaved beautifully. I don't care to see any better drilling than they did after my lecture. After we came into camp I closed column and explained to them that if they would only do as well as that in real action, keep cool, and not fire until they were sure they had the word from me, no matter how near the enemy approached — when they did fire, aim at their opponents' knees (if near), — there was no enemy in the world that could stand against them, etc.

I hope they will remember all I said. They promised, and were very much excited, and cheered loudly for the drill. There is nothing more important than to accustom men to firing, and getting used to the noise. What I taught them this afternoon was of more use to them, and will do them more good than all the brigade drills under Colonel Chapin, with unheard of and useless movements.

This regiment is so entirely dependent upon me alone, I hope I shan't get hit, for I dread to think what would become of them if I should get put hors du combat.

General Dwight has been trying to get my regiment in his brigade; he wrote to Banks about it, but Augur won't consent to lose it.

I hasten to get this in a mail which leaves for New Orleans to-day.

With much love,

W. F. B.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 67-8

Major Wilder Dwight: Friday, September 27, 1861

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-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 Reverend 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 concerted 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.

_______________

* The President's Fast Day.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 106-7

Colonel William F. Bartlett to Harriett Plummer Bartlett, March 2, 1863

Headquarters Forty-ninth Regiment, M. V. M.

Camp Banks, Baton Rouge, La., March 4, 1863.

Dear Mother, — I wrote you last on the 28th. Sunday, March 1, was a beautiful day. Ben and I took a ride in the afternoon. Went down to the river, up to General Dwight's quarters. Fletcher Abbott and Charley Dwight rode home with us. I stopped at the Fiftieth Regiment. Sam Duncan is not here yet; three of their companies are down the river at quarantine; he is with them, and the Lieutenant-colonel. Colonel Tom. Chickering called to see me after I got back. Dress parade was the best we ever had. I felt very proud of them, the result of my instruction and discipline on them. General Augur came up to-day, March 2. I saw him a few minutes.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 66

Diary of Salmon P. Chase: Tuesday, September 23, 1862

At breakfast this morning, I proposed to Katie to ride over to the Insane Asylum and see Genl. Hooker, to which she agreed; and she having provided a basket of grapes, peaches, etc., we went. We were very kindly received by Mrs. Nichols, who ushered us into the General's room. He was lying on a couch, but suffering no pain, he talked very freely as far as time would permit, of the recent events. He said that at Richmond, when the order came to withdraw the army, he advised McClellan to disobey, and proposed a plan for an advance on Richmond. McClellan gave him the order to advance, but, before the time for movement came, recalled it, and gave orders for evacuation. When Hooker expected to march to Richmond, therefore, he found himself, to his surprise, compelled to fall back to the Chickahominy on his way to Aquia. I said to him, “General, if my advice had been followed, you would have commanded after the retreat to James River, if not before.” He replied, “If I had commanded, Richmond would have been ours.” He then spoke of the Battle of Antietam, where he received his wound, and expressed his deep sorrow that he could not remain on the field three hours longer. “If I could have done so,” he said, “our victory would have been complete; for I had already gained enough and seen enough to make the route of the enemy sure.” After he had been carried off, he said, McClellan sent for him again to lead an advance. The General impressed me favorably as a frank, manly, brave and energetic soldier, of somewhat less breadth of intellect than I had expected, however, though not of less quickness, clearness and activity.

While we were conversing, Dr. Nichols came in and I had some talk with him in an adjoining room. He said the General's wound was as little dangerous as a foot wound could be, the ball having passed through the fleshy part just above the sole and below the instep, probably without touching a bone. I suggested the trial of Dr. Foster's balm. He made no special objection, but said the wound was doing as well as possible, without inflammation and very little matter; and he thought it unnecessary to try any experiments. I could not help concurring in this and postponed Dr. F. and his balm. — The Doctor said he first knew him when he encamped below him last year; that he became deeply interested in him; that when he heard he was wounded, he went up to Frederic, seeking him; that he missed him; but that his message reached him, and he came down to the Asylum himself. I asked, “What is your estimate of him?” — “Brave, energetic, full of life, skilful on the field, not comprehensive enough, perhaps, for plan and conduct of a great campaign; but at least equal in this respect, if not superior to any General in the service.”

Mr. Rives (of the Globe), his daughter and son-in-law came in and we took our leave; Dr Nichols having first strongly recommended to me to secure the appointment of Col. Dwight, of Mass., as a Brigadier General.

Returned home and went to Department Found Genl. Robinson, of Pittsburgh, there, and Mr. Piatt and Dr. Harkness. Got Harrington to go with P. and H. to War Department. — Mr. Welles came in, about appointment of Pease, in Wisconsin, and I asked him to write a note about it. — Attorney-General Bates called, with Mr. Gibson of St. Louis, about pecuniary aid to Gov. Gamble — both telling a very different story from Farrar and Dick. Promised to look at papers and answer tomorrow. — Stanton came in about payment of paroled soldiers at Camp Chase, which I promised to provide for. Said that he proposed to make the Department of Florida, with Thayer as Governor and Garfield as Commanding General, if I approved of Garfield. I said 1 approved heartily. Said he had insisted on removal of Buell, and leaving Thomas in command. I could not disapprove of this, though I think less highly of him than he seems to think. — He went and Barney came in. Asked him to dine. Declined, but promised to call in the evening. — Mr. Hamilton, on invitation, came to our house to stay while in town.

In the evening, many callers — Miss Schenck, Genl. and Mrs. McDowell, Genl. Garfield, and others. Young Mr. Walley came, with letters from his father, and I brought him in and introduced him to Katie and our guests.

SOURCE: Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 90-2