Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Harvard Memorial Biographies

Lieutenant-Colonel Dwight was mortally wounded within three feet of me. He had just come from the left of the regiment, and was about to speak, when the ball struck him. He fell, saying, “They have done for me.” The regiment was soon ordered to fall back, and men were ordered to carry him; but the pain was so intense that he refused to be moved.

Here, while alone upon the field between the two armies, he took from his pocket the note which he had written in the morning, and added to it the following:—--

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 lie.

Mother, yours,

Wilder.

On the opposite page, in larger and firmer characters, he added these words, ‘All is well with those that have faith.’ The paper is stained with his blood, and the scarcely legible lines show with what difficulty he accomplished this last effort of a life filled with acts of fidelity and love.

Private Rupert Saddler crept out to him at great risk. He writes:—

I saw a man with his head lying on a rail. I felt that it was the Colonel, and I hurried to him. I gave him a drink of water, and asked him where he was wounded. He said his thigh-bone was shattered. I saw his arm was bleeding. I asked, was it serious? He said, “It's a pretty little wound.” I saw two of our men coming, and I called them over. The Rebels saw them, and began firing. Colonel Dwight wanted us to go back to the regiment. Said he, “Rupert, if you live, I want you to be a good boy.” I wanted to bind up his wounds, but he said 't was no use. He gave me a paper he had been trying to write on, and the pencil; the paper was covered with his blood. He then gave us directions how to carry him, and we lifted him carefully and carried him into a cornfield.