Showing posts with label Lieutenant colonel Wilder Dwight. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lieutenant colonel Wilder Dwight. Show all posts

Monday, February 19, 2018

Flashback: 1976 images of house where Antietam officer died

A 1976 image of the Jacob A. Thomas house, where Union officer Wilder Dwight died on Sept. 19, 1862.
The post-war bay window seen here has crumbled, leaving a gaping hole. (See this post on my blog.)
ALL PHOTOS: MARYLAND HISTORICAL TRUST.
                                   HOVER ON IMAGE TO SEE PRESENT-DAY VIEW
         In 1976, the second-floor porch, a feature of several area houses, was still intact.
                                   HOVER ON IMAGE TO SEE PRESENT-DAY VIEW
            The circa-1850 summer kitchen and farmhouse have deteriorated since 1976.

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In a little more than 48 hours since I hit the publish button, a post on the crumbling house where a Union officer died from his Antietam wounds has cracked the top-10 most popular entries on my blog. The story of 2nd Massachusetts lieutenant colonel Wilder Dwight -- who succumbed in an upstairs bedroom of the old Jacob A. Thomas house near Boonsboro, Md. -- has many tentacles.

2nd Massachusetts officer
Wilder Dwight died of his
Antietam wounds on Sept. 19, 1862,
in a bedroom of Jacob A. Thomas'
house near Boonsboro, Md.
Since publishing the piece, I've learned that, upon receiving news of his son's wounding, Dwight's father traveled south to the battlefield via train from Massachusetts with the father of 20th Massachusetts officer Oliver Wendell Holmes, who had suffered a neck wound at Antietam.  (He recovered -- Oliver became a U.S. Supreme Court justice in 1902.) William Dwight received news of his son's death when he reached Baltimore.

Also, a reader of the blog has shared with me a letter from a 2nd Massachusetts officer, dated Sept. 19, 1862, to Chaplain Alonzo Quint, who was with Dwight  when he died.  "My best love to the Col.," Colonel George Andrews wrote. Wilder, a Harvard-educated lawyer, died early that afternoon.

Unsurprisingly, many of you wonder why the house hasn't been preserved, and I'll aim to write about that in another post. In the meantime, I want to share these 1976 images of the circa-1850 Thomas house and circa-1870 barn on the property. The photographs were part of a 1978 Maryland Historical Trust  report, which noted that even then the farmstead was "deteriorating seriously."

Compare the images here to photos from my recent visit. Also, hover on the second and third images in this post to see a present-day view of the summer kitchen and farmhouse. (Note: Hover effect does not work on phone or tablet.) At the bottom of this post, find an interactive, present-day panorama of the old Thomas farmhouse and summer kitchen.

I'm keenly interested in telling the story of Wilder Dwight's death. If you have information to share, e-mail me here.

The summer kitchen in 1976. It has deteriorated significantly since this image was taken.
Another 1976 view of the front of the once-stately home on a knoll near Boonsboro, Md.
The fence seen in this 1976 image has long since been removed.
The circa-1870 barn underwent significant restoration in 1999, 23 years after this photo was taken.
       INTERACTIVE PANORAMA: Present-day view of  summer kitchen and farmhouse.
                                     (Click at upper right for full-screen experience.)

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Saturday, February 17, 2018

Death spiral: A sad end for house where Antietam officer died

Boarded up and battered by time and nature, the circa-1850 Jacob A. Thomas house near Boonsboro, Md.
(CLICK ON ALL IMAGES TO ENLARGE.)
The summer kitchen and farmhouse have seen much better days.

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In its death throes, the circa-1850 red-brick house seems cloaked in sadness.

As if scooped out by a massive hand, gaping holes expose the heart of the abandoned, two-story structure on a knoll just off a Maryland country road. Tall weeds sprout from a pile of rubble — all that remains of what was once a splendid bay window. An ancient, well-worn set of stone steps stands orphaned after the collapse of a small wooden porch. A second-floor porch, once an eye-catching feature that mirrored others in the area, is nearly gone. Peeling green paint and graffiti scar the front door.

As if that weren’t warning enough, a small sign on the weather-beaten white transom cautions would-be intruders: Private Property — Keep Out.

Likely baked decades ago in a farmstead kiln, bricks litter the sloping front yard. Just steps from the back door, a wooden privy and summer kitchen slowly lose their fight for survival, while only yards away a beautifully restored post–Civil War barn stands in striking contrast.

The interior of the once-stately home may be seen through gaping holes.
(CLICK ON ALL IMAGES TO ENLARGE.)
A warning sign to trespassers on the weather-beaten and graffiti-marred front door.
Who trod on these well-worn -- and probably original -- steps?
A view of the once-splendid second-floor porch.
A close-up of outside brickwork reveals effects of time and neglect.

Time, nature and trespassers have conspired to wreak havoc inside the Greek Revival–style house. Debris spills from a first-floor fireplace — one of five in the once-stately home. 

A brown doorknob lies forgotten on the floor, perhaps pried loose by a vagrant. Boarded-up windows block what would have been a sweeping view of South Mountain. Wary of falling through rotted wood, two visitors gingerly climb the stairs, stepping carefully over rubble. Bricks choke the hearth of a bedroom fireplace. 

Nearby, a shaft of daylight reveals deep-blue walls in a small room. A gaping chasm where part of the second floor has collapsed halts further exploration. Briefly alone upstairs, one visitor closes his eyes and offers a silent prayer for a long-ago inhabitant of one of the bedrooms.

Debris litters the steps leading to the second floor.
(CLICK ON ALL IMAGES TO ENLARGE.)
Bricks and debris clutter a second-floor bedroom. Could this be where Wilder Dwight died?
Light streams into a second-floor bedroom, revealing the remains of a bed (left) near a wall.

In late-summer 1862, this was the home of Jacob and Sarah Thomas and their daughters, 23-year-old Annie and 17-year-old Eliza. In the vortex of the war in mid-September 1862, families such as the Thomases heard the boom of artillery and crackle of musketry as Union and Confederate armies clashed nearby at South Mountain and at Sharpsburg, near the banks of Antietam Creek.

Wounded at Antietam, Wilder Dwight 
died two days later in a bedroom at the
 Jacob A. Thomas house near Boonsboro, Md.
On the afternoon of September 18, war arrived on the doorstep of the "airy and comfortable" house of Mr.  Thomas, a wealthy farmer. A sense of urgency spurred a group of Massachusetts soldiers, who carried their grievously wounded commanding officer into one of the family's upstairs bedrooms. The lieutenant colonel, a Harvard-educated lawyer, had somehow endured a harrowing, three- or four-mile mile journey on a stretcher from the Antietam battlefield, where his left thigh had been shattered by a Rebel bullet. As he lay in agony near the Hagerstown Pike on the morning of September 17, he completed a note, stained with his blood, to his mother: "All is well with those that have faith."

As comrades lifted him into his bed at the Thomases' house, the soldier repeated, "Now, boys, steady and true! Steady and true!" Soon after soldiers left the bedroom, the wounded man summoned enough energy to tell them, "Wait a minute, boys; you've taken good care of me, and I thank you very much. God bless you!"

Thankfully, the beloved officer was in good hands -- unlike many of their neighbors, the Thomases were a staunch Union family. A devout man and member of the United Brethren Church, 46-year-old Jacob Thomas may have even tended to the spiritual needs of his important house guest.

Also shot in the left wrist, the officer -- who "seemed quiet" -- suffered intense pain in his wounded leg that afternoon. But 2nd Massachusetts Chaplain Alonzo Quint still expected he would live a few more days. Growing weaker, the officer sent a note to a surgeon. "They tell me," he said, "that I may recover. I do not believe it ... " He wondered if his brother, William, a colonel in the 70th New York, were near. Preparing for the worst, he also had a dispatch sent to his father back home in Brookline, Mass., urging him to quickly travel to the red-brick house near Boonsboro, Md.

Painting of Wilder Dwight, completed in 1863. 
(Harvard University Portrait Collection,
 Gift of the children of Mrs. William Dwight
 to Harvard College, 1884.)
The next morning, the ever-attentive Quint kept the blinds closed in the soldier's bedroom and allowed no one to enter. At about 10 a.m., the chaplain noticed his comrade was "considerably weaker." About two hours later, Quint was in the kitchen with Sarah Thomas, who was preparing a beef tea. Suddenly, the wounded soldier's servant alerted the chaplain, "The Colonel is wanting you quick, sir." Quint rushed to the bedroom and  "instantly saw a change" for the worse. Grabbing the wounded man's hand, he said a short prayer; the officer, who couldn't distinguish Quint's features, slowly moved his lips in prayer, too, concluding with an audible "Amen."

Pale and his eyes sunken, the lieutenant colonel slipped away at about 12:30 p.m. on Sept. 19, 1862. "Oh, my dear mother!" he said shortly before he died.

Wilder Dwight -- "the best man in the world," according to a 2nd Massachusetts comrade -- was only 29. He left behind his parents, William and Elizabeth; three brothers and scores of comrades and friends to mourn.

Art Williamson, the friendly owner of the old Jacob Thomas property, on the front steps
 of the crumbling farmhouse. (CLICK ON ALL IMAGES TO ENLARGE.)

Understandably, this Civil War story of the old house and the Massachusetts officer fascinates more than just its two visitors.

"If only I had known this history back then," says 76-year-old Art Williamson, who bought the Jacob Thomas house and surrounding property, including a barn, in 1986.

A peek inside the decrepit summer kitchen, 
which also pre-dates the Civil War.
A retired Bethlehem Steel employee, Williamson and his wife, Judy, originally intended to restore the farmhouse. A contractor gave the couple an estimate of what it would cost to make the place livable and to modernize it. But the price tag was exorbitant, Williamson says, so Art and Judy moved instead into a large house they had built nearby on the property. Even as long ago as 1978, the homestead was on life support. "... deteriorated seriously in recent years," a Maryland Historical Trust report noted then about the Thomas farm and other area properties.

In 1999-2000, Williamson did sink a considerable sum into renovating the circa-1870 barn on the farmstead. Justifiably proud of that fabulous structure, he also enjoys showing visitors about his farm, where he raises llamas, emus, toy donkeys and an assortment of goats. "It's my funny farm," Williamson says with a chuckle. On a recent morning, the gregarious man flaps his arms to shoo away two pesky llamas while an inquisitive donkey nudges a visitor.

Some think the Thomas house is haunted, says Williamson, who regrets that wayward youths have used it for parties and other mischief. As visitors inspect the back of the house, he tells the story of a local man who used a first-floor room for much more ceremonial purposes. His fiancee relished old houses, and so one day the man took her to the Thomas house, where he had a bottle of wine, two glasses and an engagement ring placed on a small table. He proposed right there. "How 'bout that?" says Williamson.

As the visitors leave the property, they try to imagine the terrible September day when Wilder Dwight was carried into this quiet western Maryland landscape. They are left with questions — some likely unanswerable. 

Could the house have been saved? In which room did Dwight die? What passed through his mind as his life slipped away? 

What did the Thomas family feel when the young officer breathed his last? 

As the car pulls onto the road, one thought lingers. A remarkable house is dying, and with it a small but powerful fragment of American history.

I thank my friend, longtime Washington County (Md.) resident Richard Clem, among the best Civil War detectives around, for his tremendous assistance on this story.

Donkeys and an emu approach a visitor on Art Williamson's "funny farm."

-- Have something to add (or correct) in this post? E-mail me here.


SOURCES

-- Dwight, Wilder and Dwight, Elizabeth Amelia, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight, Lieut.-col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols, Boston, Ticknor and Fields, 1868.

-- Wilder Dwight battlefield letter to his mother, Sept. 17, 1862, Massachusetts Historical Society Collection.

Friday, January 19, 2018

History up close: Wilder Dwight's bloodstained Antietam note

Bloodstained battlefield note written by Wilder Dwight to his mother as he lay mortally wounded.
(Massachusetts Historical Society)
The second page of Wilder Dwight's blood-stained battlefield note to his mother. After he was wounded on
the morning of Sept. 17, 1862, he struggled to complete it. (Massachusetts Historical Society)

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In the last act of his short military career, Wilder Dwight implored his soldiers in the 2nd Massachusetts to keep their heads down as fighting raged near the Hagerstown Pike. Just before he was about to give further orders during the Battle of Antietam, a bullet struck him in the left hip, sending him crashing to the ground. "They have done for me," the 29-year-old lieutenant colonel said after he was shot.

Wilder Dwight
Also wounded in the left wrist,  Dwight complained of intense pain, but while his regiment fell back a short distance, he refused to be moved. The pain was simply too much to bear. As the fighting swirled near the Dunker Church, the Harvard-educated officer struggled to complete the short note he had begun to his mother earlier that misty morning of Sept. 17, 1862, well before the fighting reached a crescendo:

"Dearest Mother, — I am wounded so as to be helpless. 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 I lay.

"Mother, yours,

"Wilder."

Across the opposite page, in much larger letters, he wrote:

"All is well with those that have faith."

The note was stained with his blood.

Finally rescued from the battlefield by comrades, Dwight died in private residence in Boonsboro, Md., two days after the battle.

At the Massachusetts Historical Society this afternoon, I examined for the first time Dwight's heart-rending note to his mother, Elizabeth. It was an extraordinary experience.

"All is well with those that have faith," grievously wounded Wilder Dwight concluded his note to his mother.
(Massachusetts Historical Society)


Have something to add (or correct) in this post? E-mail me here.


SOURCES


-- Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight, Lieut.-Col. Second Massaschusetts Infantry Volunteers, Boston, Ticknor and Fields, 1868.

Monday, August 15, 2016

Notes from Antietam battlefield: 'Good bye if so it must be'

Tintype of 7th Michigan Private Basil Leon DeShetler. (Image courtesy Jeff Makholm)

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Amid the roar of artillery, thunderclap of thousands of muskets and cries of battle, four seriously wounded United States soldiers dashed off notes as they lay incapacitated on the Antietam battlefield. Each man suffered wounds within a short distance of each other that awful Wednesday morning of Sept. 17, 1862. None of them survived.

Two of the soldiers served with the veteran 7th Michigan — one a Methodist minister who had a wife named Lucinda and eight children; the other an unmarried officer who had been born in Clear Spring, Md., roughly 25 miles from the battlefield.

The other two soldiers served in Massachusetts regiments — one a farmer from Grafton, a town that suffered a horrendous toll at Antietam, while the other was a Class of 1855 law school graduate from Harvard and a former prisoner of war. Their veteran regiments — the 15th Massachusetts (Ball's Bluff, Fair Oaks, Malvern Hill) and 2nd Massachusetts (Cedar Mountain and Winchester) — had fought in Virginia during the first 15 months of the war. 

But Antietam was a much different, and much bloodier, battle than any of these four soldiers had experienced.

Mortally wounded at Antietam, Basil DeShetler
 was the married father of eight children.
(Image courtesy Jeff Makholm)
BEFORE THEY CROSSED ANTIETAM CREEK, 7th Michigan soldiers received 40 rounds of cartridges for their boxes and 20 more for their haversacks. "Any goodbyes were said and letters were sent home to our loved ones," a 7th Michigan soldier recalled about the night before the battle. "Prayer meetings were held throughout the army." 

After the Michigan soldiers advanced from the East Woods in line of battle with others in the II Corps, a small, whitewashed brick church came into view through the battle smoke. Then Rev. Basil Leon DeShetler of Company D crumpled to the ground with a wound to his right hip. 

A devout and patriotic man, the 7th Michigan private frequently dashed off short notes in his diary. In July 1862, he wrote this stirring entry in pen:
"I hope to hear a voice above the roar of cannon and the din of battle, full of sweetness and majesty, in which are blended the sympathy of man with the omnipotence of God saying to my poor soul, 'Thy sins are forgiven thee, be of good cheer.' The man who is willing that the Union should be divided by the sword of treason may have been born in America, but he cannot have an American heart..."
While he lay wounded at Antietam, the 32-year-old soldier grabbed a pencil and again opened his small pocket diary. "At sunrise in battle," he had scrawled earlier that day, but then added: "7 AM at which I am wounded. This is written on the spot wherein I lay. May God bless me and forgive all my sins, through Jesus Christ."

Taken to the Susan Hoffman farm hospital on the Keedysville Road, DeShetler died nearby at the tent hospital at Smoketown on Oct. 9, 1862. After the war, his body was recovered and re-buried at Antietam National Cemetery.

Basil DeShetler described himself as a "soldier of the cross" in his war-time diary.  
In this entry,  Basil DeShetler, a Methodist minister,  noted he was wounded 
at Antietam: "Bless me and forgive all my sins through Jesus Christ." The entry was made
the morning of Sept. 17, 1862, but was written on a page for 1861 in the diary.
(Diary images courtesy Jeff Makholm)

LIKE DeSHETLER, 7th Michigan Captain Allen Zacharias was from Monroe County, south of Detroit and west of Lake Erie, An 1860 University of Michigan graduate, he served as a professor and principal at the State Military Institute in Brandon, Miss., when the war began. One of seven brothers, three of whom served in the Union army, Zacharias enlisted in Company K of  the 7th Michigan as a 1st lieutenant on June 25, 1861. Nearly nine months later, he was promoted to captain.

7th Michigan Captain Allen Zacharias.
While at Fair Oaks, near Richmond, the 29-year-old Maryland-born officer wrote a note, dated June 28, 1862. It included details of his life and these 42 words:
"Friend, If you find my body lifeless upon the field, bury it decently, mark its resting place, and inform my friends in the regiment and my father. Do this and you shall be liberally rewarded and have the gratitude of my friends." 
When the 7th Michigan pushed toward the West Woods at Antietam with the 69th and 72nd Pennsylvania, it found disaster. In 30 minutes of savage fighting, Confederates routed General John Sedgwick's division, which also included the 15th Massachusetts. The 7th Michigan suffered 50 percent casualties in the nearly 300-man regiment, including Captain James Turrill and lieutenants John Clark and John P. Eberhard, who were killed.

Severely wounded in the spine and apparently unable to talk, Zacharias was found clutching a piece of paper in the West Woods by a soldier from Maine. Written in pencil on an old envelope, the heart-rending note to his family read:
"Dear Parents, Brothers and Sisters:  I am wounded, mortally I think. The fight rages around me.  I have done my duty, this is my consolation.  I hope to meet you all again.  I left not the line until nearly all had fallen and the colors gone.  I am getting weak, my arms are free, but my chest is all numb.  The enemy trotting over me, the numbness up to my heart.  Goodbye all.  Your son, Allen.
Tucked into his pocket diary was the note he had written at Fair Oaks regarding the disposition of his body should he be found dead. A private in the 4th Maine Battery sent to Zacharias' family the short Antietam battlefield note.

On Jan. 9, 1863, the Maryland Press, a Hagerstown newspaper, reported the death of Zacharias.

Initially, Zacharias was sent to a field hospital. "He was shot near the right shoulder blade, the ball striking the spinal chord, and passing near — perhaps entering the left lung," the Monroe Commerical reported on Oct. 2, 1862. "His legs were paralyzed, but he has had no fever — a favorable symptom. The surgeon could not yet tell the extent of the damage — it might be temporal and or it might be serious."

Later, the Michigan officer found himself recovering at the house of a well-to-do farmer and friend named Joseph B. Loose in nearby Hagerstown, where his father, sister and other family members visited him. But Zacharias never recovered, and he died there on New Year's Eve 1862. On Jan. 3, 1863, he was buried next to his mother in the German Reformed Church cemetery in Ida Center, Mich.

 Sergeant Jonathan Stow of the 15th Massachusetts had his leg amputated at the Hoffman farm.
(Photo courtesy Richard Gold)

PERHAPS AT THE SAME TIME Zacharias wrote the note to his family, a soldier in the 15th Massachusetts was jotting an entry in his diary as he lay in agony with a wound to his right leg in the West Woods. A 30-year-old sergeant, Jonathan P. Stow struggled to describe the scene:
Battle oh horrid battle. What sights I have seen now see around me. I am Wounded! And am afraid shall be again as shells fly past me every few seconds carrying away limbs from trees and scattering limbs around. Am in severe pain. Furies how the shells fly. I do sincerely hope shall not be wounded again. We drove them first till they got sheltered then we had a bad place. Oh I cannot write.
Stow received care from the Rebels, who abandoned him when they retreated into Virginia on the night of Sept. 18. Two days after the battle, he was found by Federal soldiers and transferred to the Hoffman farm, where he had his right leg amputated. In his diary, he continued to document his plight and the horror faced by other wounded Union soldiers:

Sept 18th – Thursday.  Misery. Acute, painful misery.  How I suffered last night.  It was the most painful of anything have experienced. My leg must be broken for I cannot help myself scarcely any. I remember talking and groaning all night. Many died in calling for help. Sergt. Johnson, who lies on the other side of the log is calling for water. Carried off the field at 10 AM by the Rebs who show much kindness but devote much time to plundering dead bodies of our men…Water very short. We suffer much.
15th Massachusetts Sergeant Jonathan Stow.
(Grafton, Mass., Historical Society)

Sept. 19th –Friday. Rained only a little. I had a rubber blanket and overcoat. Rebs retreat. Another painful night. Oh good God, a whole line of our skirmishers are coming…There are lots of us lain out…By and by our boys come along.  What lots of the 15th. Captain comes down to get the names and has coffee furnished us.—Twas the best cup I ever tasted. Dr. looks at my wounds and calls it a doubtful case. Get me on ambulance at 3 PM but do not get to the hospital till nearly dark.  Plenty of water  which gives us a chance to take down inflammation. Nurses worn out by fatigue. Placed on straw near the barn.

Sept. 22nd – Monday. Two men died last night…How painful my stump is.  I did not know was capable of enduring so much pain. How very meager are accommodations – no chamber pots & nobody to find or rig up one.  How ludicrous for 2 score amputated men to help themselves with diarrhea.

Sept. 23rd – Tuesday.  Oh what fearful long nights. What difficulties we have to contend…Relief can hardly be found. I have at length got my limb dressed by volunteer surgeon. But never was so exhausted for want of refreshment.
.
Sept. 28th – Sunday. Oh what lengths to the nights. The horrid smell from the mortifying limbs is nearly as bad as the whole we have to contend. Mrs. Lee and another lady are here daily dispensing cooked broths…They seem to employ  their whole time for us.  Move outdoors in the PM. Excessively hot.

Sept. 29th – Monday.  Slept little more comfortable last night. Got nice soups and nice light biscuit and tart also nice butter from Mrs. Lee. Also she gets me milk again this morning. How the quinine keeps me parched for water and so sleepy and foolish. Am much better off here than in barn.  10 AM my comrade died from the 18th Minn. Regt. I rec’d 4 letters from friends or home but am so boozy it takes the whole AM to read them.  Mr. Dr. Kelsey dressed my stump admirably and am quite comfortable if the quinine does not choke me to death. It is far more quiet here but begins to rain.

Later that night, however, Stow had an urgent telegram sent to his father back in Grafton: "Dangerously wounded at Hoffman's hospital near Sharpsburg," it read. "Come instantly."

Two days later, he died—one of 11 soldiers from Grafton to die of wounds suffered at Antietam. Stow's remains were sent home to be buried in the Old Oak Street Burial Ground.

15th Massachusetts Sergeant Jonathan Stow died at the Hoffman farm, a major 
Union hospital at Antietam. (Image courtesy Richard Gold) 
Wilder Dwight lay wounded near the Hagerstown Pike on the morning of Sept. 17, 1862.

ABOUT 2 1/2 HOURS BEFORE ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE for the U.S. Army in the West Woods, Wilder Dwight, a lieutenant colonel in the 2nd Massachusetts, jotted a short note to his mother.

"We are engaging the enemy and are drawn up in support of [General Joseph] Hooker who is now banging away most briskly," the 29-year-old officer wrote in pencil in neat cursive. "I write in the saddle to send you my love and to say that I am very well so far --"

By September 1862, Dwight was a veteran of several battles and had even spent time in Rebel captivity after his capture near Winchester, Va., in late May 1862. (Days later, the army exchanged him for a Confederate officer.)

At about 9:30 a.m. at Antietam, the 2nd Massachusetts was in a bad fix. Sedgwick's division had been routed, and the Massachusetts soldiers aimed to stop Rebels streaming from the West Woods. As Dwight commanded the regiment near the Hagerstown Pike, a bullet tore into the lawyer's left wrist and hip, sending him crashing to the ground in agony.

2nd Massachusetts Lieutenant Colonel Wilder Dwight
was mortally wounded at Antietam on Sept. 17, 1862
(Massachusetts Historical Society collection)
"The regiment soon fell back a short distance," a 2nd Massachusetts officer recalled, "and men were ordered to carry him, but the pain was so intense that he refused to be moved."

While the fighting swirled about him, Dwight pulled from his pocket the note to his mother that he had begun earlier that morning. This time, the words he wrote were nearly indecipherable:
"Dearest mother, I am wounded so as to be helpless. Good bye if so it must be. I think I die in victory. God defend our country. I trust in God & love you all to the last .Dearest love to father & all my dear brothers. Our troops have left the part of the field where I lay -- Mother, yrs Wilder
"All is well with those that have faith."
Blood from his wounds stained the paper.

Eager to help the man who gained his acquittal in a manslaughter case before the war, a private in the 2nd Massachusetts courageously ventured into no-man's land with a canteen filled with water. "When I got near the road I had to crawl on my hands & knees," Rupert Sadler wrote seven days after the battle. "The rebels had not advanced any, & I saw a horse which I thought was the Colonels. While I was examining it a squad of rebels saw me, & before firing at once at me, I laid down behind the horse until they stopped."

Soon, Sadler spotted Dwight lying with his head against a rail, his thigh bone apparently shattered. The private offered to bind his wounds, but Dwight refused, saying it was no use. He gave Sadler and other soldiers in the regiment directions for carrying him, and they lifted him into a cornfield, where a regimental surgeon examined him.

The next day, Dwight was carried three miles in shifts by a 12-man detail of new recruits to Boonsboro, Md., because an ambulance was unavailable. The lieutenant colonel was cared for there in the bedroom of a brick house owned by a farmer named Thomas, a Union sympathizer. Dwight's eyes were pale and sunken, recalled 2nd Massachusetts chaplain Alonzo Quint. On Sept. 19, he took a turn for the worse. The chaplain said a prayer over Dwight, whose face lit up when his mother was mentioned. A little after noon, he cried, "O, my dear mother," and died about 15 minutes later.

"Dear Wilder Dwight!" 2nd Massachusetts Lieutenant Henry Stone wrote after his comrade's death. "He was the best man in the world."

On Sept. 25, 1862, Dwight received a hero's funeral in Boston and was buried in Forest Hills Cemetery.

WILDER DWIGHT'S BATTLEFIELD NOTE TO HIS MOTHER

Stained with his blood, this is the first page of a three-page note Wilder Dwight 
wrote to his mother from the Antietam battlefield.
(Massachusetts Historical Society collection)

Near Sharpsburg. Sept. 17th 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 --

Dearest mother, I am wounded so as to be helpless. Good bye if so it must be ...


Severely wounded in the right leg, Wilder Dwight could barely finish the note.
(Massachusetts Historical Society collection)

I think I die in victory. God defend our country. I trust in God & love you all to the last Dearest love to father &all my dear brothers. Our troops have left the part of the field where I lay -- Mother, yrs Wilder


The conclusion of Dwight's heart-rending note.
 (Massachusetts Historical Society collection)

All is well with those that have faith

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