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Jy^ d- , C<vt«-«-.~-*- J 
 
 MEMORIAL 
 
 OP 
 
 LT. DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY, 
 
 OF THE TWENTY-FIFTH REGIMENT 
 
 CONNECTICUT VOLUNTEERS 
 
 HARTFORD: 
 PRESS OF CASE, LOCKWOOD & COMPANY. 
 1864. . 
 
0^ 
 
 
 
 ^-^/^ 
 
^rt tlioui faith-fal P tlxeri oppose 
 Sin and. -wrong ^vitli all thy naight; 
 
 Care not how the tempest blo^ws. 
 Only care to win the fight. 
 
 Lyea Germakica. 
 
 A.nd. %vheresoe'ei' in earth's -wide field 
 Ye lift for Him the red-cross shield. 
 Be this yonr song, yonr joy and pride, 
 " Our Champion went before and died." 
 Keble's Christian Year. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 When this fearful war shall be ended, and 
 this broad land, from one end to the other, shall 
 echo to the " bells of cheer " as they " ring 
 peace and freedom in ; " when our cities, towns 
 and villages shall receive their own again, saved 
 from the bloody fields of strife ; and when house- 
 holds are made more than happy by the welcome 
 footsteps of returning fathers, husbands, sons 
 and brethren, kindred and friends, it will be 
 with us as it was with Judah of old when the 
 captivity of Zion was released from its bondage ; 
 we shall be like them that dream — our heart so 
 filled with transport, our mouth will be filled 
 with laughter, and our tongue with singing ; — 
 we shall rehearse the mighty deliverances as one 
 after another tells his thrilling story, and we 
 shall respond to each other, as they did to the 
 exclamations of the wondering heathen around 
 them, " Yea, the Lord hath done great things 
 for us, whereof we rejoice." 
 1* 
 
6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 But in many a once happy home, silence and 
 mourning must take the place of joy and exulta- 
 tion, for however much the heart may sympa- 
 thize in the general joy, still it must ache while 
 the wounds are yet bleeding over its own lost 
 treasures — its most cherished hopes blighted, 
 its brightest anticipations darkened in perpetual 
 gloom — for a father, a husband, a son, a broth- 
 er, a kinsman, a friend, who went forth with 
 those armies, returns not, or he is borne silently 
 homeward only to be laid in a grave upon his 
 native soil, and to rest where those who loved 
 him in life may come to weep with bitter tears 
 over the mysterious and terrible necessity which 
 claimed a sacrifice so priceless to their souls. 
 But to confine our minds to the present state of 
 our country, and to look back upon what has 
 already made desolate one home after another, 
 is enough for busy thought and wondering in- 
 quiry., when young men of so much promise for 
 any and all the duties and responsibilities of life, 
 are cut down in their early morning, as they have 
 been in this dreadful war. There is but one 
 consolation — God, the fountain of wisdom and 
 the father of mercy, has suffered it to be so, and 
 we must bow in submission to that which now 
 we can not understand. 
 
 While we are saying these things, one sad 
 household with its bereaved mother, its younger 
 
INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 sister and brothers, its circle of friends and kin- 
 dred, rises before us. A first-born son has been 
 taken from its number, and nothing now remains 
 to it but '' the silent picture on the wall," the 
 garments, the books, and the letters which so 
 faithfully and so continually revealed his affec- 
 tionate love and care for all that belonged to 
 home and its cherished inmates, showing that 
 he was the one who brought sunshine and hap- 
 piness to it and was as a tower of strength to her 
 who bore him. 
 
 This was Daniel Perkins Dewey, of Hartford, 
 Connecticut, whose remains, within the past few 
 months, have been restored to his family, after 
 lying for months near the battle-field where he 
 fell. He was a young man of so much promise, 
 known and beloved by so large a circle of rela- 
 tions and friends, so honored by his companions 
 in school, in college, and in the army, that his 
 death has called forth from the voice and from 
 the pen of military superiors, and from compan- 
 ions and friends, a general tribute of praise to 
 his character, and of sorrow at his early removal 
 from us. These testimonials are now gath- 
 ered up, and, with other remembrances of a life 
 that was indeed like the flower that cometh up 
 and is cut down in the very opening of its beauty, 
 are here presented to those who mourn its 
 short existence as a consolation to their sorrow. 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 We would also claim the attention of the young 
 to this brief memorial, hoping that they may 
 profit by the bright and noble example which it 
 places before them. 
 
MEMORIAL, 
 
 Daniel Perkins Dewey, eldest son of Daniel 
 S. and Elizabeth Perkins Dewey, was born at 
 Hartford, Connecticut, June 18tli, 1843. He was 
 baptized in his infancy, by the Rev. George Bur- 
 gess, the present bishop of Maine, and con- 
 firmed by Bishop Clarke, of Rhode Island, when 
 he was eighteen years old. As a child he 
 was docile and obedient, quick in his percep- 
 tions of right and wrong, and of great facility 
 even then, in acquiring knowledge ; of a sensi- 
 tive and delicate nature, he preferred the quiet 
 corner witli his book, or to interest himself at 
 home with his younger brother, rather than to 
 mingle in the usual out-door amusements of 
 boys of his own age. '' Yet," says his mother, 
 " he was no coward ; for while he would turn 
 silently away from children who sought to draw 
 him into a quarrel, he often avenged the insults 
 offered those who were weaker or smaller than 
 their oppressors. He ivas a boy who spoke the 
 truth and held all sacred things in reverence, 
 evincing in the religious duties and observances 
 which are required of children, a reverent com- 
 posure of mind which might well belong to ma- 
 
10 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 turer years. There is but one voice from those 
 who had the care of his education — from the 
 milder sway of female authority to the discipline 
 of high school and college — concerning his dispo- 
 sition, his facility in acquiring knowledge, and 
 his exemplary demeanor." 
 
 " I remember him," says his teacher, Mr. Har- 
 ris, principal of the South District School, " when 
 a lad of twelve years, as he entered his class 
 with similar attainments to those associated with 
 him ; a few terms pass by and I find him leading 
 his class, exhibiting signs of a deep and clear 
 thinker ; the reason why, must always be given 
 to the truth of any statement. 
 
 Doubtless his classmates will remember his 
 clear explanations of difficult questions, and 
 when doubt was expressed, how ready was he 
 with page and section to prove his position. 
 
 When placed in trying positions he was equal 
 to his task, always sustaining the right and put- 
 ting down the wrong — always thoughtful and 
 reliable as a pupil. He passed through success- 
 ive terms, sustaining himself in the first rank in 
 scholarship and deportment. When he left for the 
 high school he was amongst the first in his class." 
 
 " And," adds Mr. Harris, " my young friend 
 who sacrificed the pleasures of home, society, 
 friends, and loved pursuits to serve his country, 
 defend its flag, its honor, its institutions, and to 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 11 
 
 give up his life, if need be, to perpetuate the privi- 
 leges, which we now enjoy, to future generations, 
 will be remembered by his companions in arms, 
 who fought by his side when he fell a brave de- 
 fender of those principles which have made us a 
 free, happy and prosperous nation." 
 
 After a few years with this estimable teacher, 
 he was received into the High School in Hart- 
 ford. And to the high position in scholarship 
 and in character to which he attained in that 
 institution we give the unqualified and eloquent 
 testimonial of the principal, Mr. T. W. T. Cur- 
 tis, from a communication addressed to the 
 mother of young Dewey. 
 
 " Immediately after joining the school he took 
 high rank as a scholar. This was the result in 
 part of superior natural gifts, in part of earnest 
 application. He possessed a vigorous, logical, 
 easy-working mind. To think was for him not 
 a labor, but a luxury. He rejoiced in whatever 
 was athletic, whether involving mental or phys- 
 ical effort. His associates and his duties sup- 
 plied the stimulus suited to an aspiring nature 
 conscious of power to rise to high attainment in 
 whatever is noble and worthy. 
 
 His spirit as a student was calm, patient, and 
 determined. He never surrendered. He was 
 not demonstrative. He made no parade of his 
 purposes, but quietly addressed himself to them 
 
12 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 with an earnestness of resolution, a pertinacity 
 of spirit and an intelligence of method, which 
 uniformly achieved success. 
 
 Perhaps his most prominent trait as a student 
 was thoroughness. He was ill at ease till the 
 whole of a subject was perfectly understood. 
 
 In his intercourse with his school-mates he 
 was social and cordial, always happy to oblige 
 others, and relishing with zest all manly sports, 
 while his self-respect and native dignity of char- 
 acter refused to find gratification in whatever 
 was low, puerile, or simply mischievous. 
 
 To his teachers he was always courteous and 
 deferential, though never obsequious or court- 
 ing their favor. On the other hand, I am sure 
 that all his teachers, from the beginning to the 
 close of their connection with him, respected 
 and loved him. For myself I can say that I am 
 able to recall nothing in all his career that I 
 would wish had been different. 
 
 The personal qualities which I think he most 
 commonly impressed others as possessing, were a 
 genuine manliness, nobleness, truthfulness, hon- 
 or, fidelity and courage, both physical and moral. 
 
 His character as a Christian was of the best 
 type. There was nothing in it that was spas- 
 modic or excitable. His religious life was calm 
 and deep, yet daily manifest to all. 
 
 He was earnest, devoted and influential. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 13 
 
 There are many who cherish his memory with 
 affection, who remember his words of private 
 counsel and his active interest in the weekly 
 prayer-meeting of the school. 
 
 I can not forbear to mention an incident, tri- 
 fling perhaps, yet significant, as illustrating the 
 consistency of his Christian character and his 
 courage. 
 
 During a summer vacation in the Adiron- 
 dacks, he unexpectedly joined my camp, together 
 with a companion. There were several rough 
 back-woodsmen, hunters, and guides, attached 
 to our party. The first time I had occasion to 
 notice his personal habit, he had returned from 
 a late evening hunt. As he took his place for 
 the night amidst that group of rude men, he did 
 not forget his mother's God, but quietly and de- 
 liberately, as in his own room at home, addressed 
 himself in prayer to that good Being who loves 
 to meet his children in the wilderness as well as 
 at the fire-side altar. I can not soon forget that 
 picture. 
 
 Such, in meagre outline, was one known, hon- 
 ored and beloved by the best young men in his 
 native city. 
 
 It is not strange that so generous, so noble a 
 
 nature understood and heeded the wailing cry 
 
 of his suffering country. And thus another 
 
 young life, so rich in gifts and full of promise 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 
14 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 was cheerfully offered to liis God and accepted 
 in consecration to that cause already made 
 sacred by the sacrificial blood of America's 
 noblest sons." 
 
 To the incident mentioned by Mr. Curtis, 
 we may add one of a like character to show 
 that the same earnest, childlike faith remained 
 unaltered as the years of this pure-minded, 
 thoughtful boy were ripening into manhood ; 
 and, besides, to show to all faithful mothers 
 the ineffaceable impression which their lessons 
 given in early childhood, may make upon the 
 hearts of their children. After his enlistment, 
 while in camp at Hartford, as his mother was 
 leaving him, after a visit to his tent, he asked 
 her if she remembered a hymn she had taught 
 him beginning " Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear 
 me" — and said, •' I always repeat it every night, 
 that, and " Now I lay me." 
 
 Is there a person, we might almost say in all 
 Christendom, who does not know that simple 
 prayer — 
 
 " Now I lay me down to sleep 
 I pray the Lord my soul to keep, 
 
 If I sliould die before I wake 
 
 I pray the Lord ray soul to take." 
 
 the first one almost that is taught to lisping 
 
 infancy, and the one which is never forgotten ? 
 
 And many a hoary head is nightly laid 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. Ie5 
 
 down under its blessing, while for a moment 
 perhaps, a mother's voice conies back again, 
 through the long, long years that have passed 
 away, and -the man of might is a little child 
 again before his Maker — and well he may be, 
 for when he lays him down to unconscious 
 sleep, where is all the power and the wisdom 
 and the superiority which raise him above the 
 condition of the little defenceless child ? 
 
 The hymn too, is of the same character and 
 is too beautiful in its confiding faith and sim- 
 plicity to be omitted. 
 
 " Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear me, 
 
 Bless thy little lamb to-night ; 
 Through the darkness be thou near me, 
 
 Watch my sleep till morning light. 
 
 All this day thy hand hath led me, 
 
 And I thank thee for thy care, 
 Thou hast watched me, warmed me, fed me, 
 
 Listen to my evening prayer. 
 
 Let my sins be all forgiven, 
 
 Bless the friends I love so well, 
 Take me when T die to Heaven, 
 
 Happy there with Thee to dwell." 
 
 This hymn, so simple and confiding in its 
 tone, may seem to some minds almost puerile 
 when repeated as a prayer with which a man 
 and a soldier commends himself into the keep- 
 
16 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 ing of the great Lord of all, but in another 
 aspect it reveals a soul of true greatness. The 
 higher a man rises in the knowledge of the 
 majesty of God, the deeper will be his humility 
 before him. Our Saviour addres'sed his disci- 
 ples as " little children," yet they were hardy 
 men inured to a life of toil and danger — and 
 to those who humble themselves as little chil- 
 dren, is the promise given of being " the great- 
 est in the kingdom of Heaven." 
 
 While young Dewey was in the High School, 
 under the supervision of Mr. Curtis, it became 
 his task to compose one of the exercises for a 
 public exhibition, and being in doubt as to the 
 choice of a subject he took a dictionary, say- 
 ing to his mother, " I will shut my eyes and 
 put my finger upon a word and take that for 
 my subject." The word thus indicated wsls frank- 
 incense, and to show the sober-minded thought, 
 and the great beauty of illustration with which 
 a school boy could investigate and present a 
 subject freshly brought to his own mind, we 
 give the whole composition. 
 
 " FRANKINCENSE. 
 
 An apparently barren subject. What can be said 
 of a ' dry resinous substance,' as Webster describes 
 it. Well, let us look at it before we so hastily pass 
 judgment upon it. 'A dry resinous substance of a 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 17 
 
 pale yellow color.' Truly its appearance is rather 
 uninteresting. It presents nothing interesting to the 
 sight or to the touch ; it is harsh and bitter to the 
 taste ; it does not attract the other senses ; yet shall 
 we therefore discard it as unworthy of our notice ? 
 Firmly convinced, as I am, that there is nothing in 
 existence however insignificant, which will not repay 
 a careful examination, I am not satisfied to leave it 
 thus. We must look beyond its mere outward appear- 
 ance and aspect, for by these we are often misled. 
 Who would imagine that the lowly arbutus possessed 
 such an exquisite fragrance as that with which it 
 greets the close examiner ? The appearance of one 
 of the most delicious dishes upon the epicure's table 
 would never indicate that its component parts once 
 graced the body of a huge green frog. No one would 
 imagine from the mere sight of Plymouth rock that 
 it is of any more consequence than the pavement 
 which we tread in our daily walks. Pearls dwell in 
 oysters. The most beautiful flower is contained within 
 the rough coat of a seed; the apparently light and 
 powerless cloud of steam contains the mightiest prin- 
 ciple of locomotion with which we are acquainted. 
 And can we not search out in our subject some hidden 
 qualification to attract our attention ? Let us see. 
 Why did the follower of Mohammed look with so 
 much reverence and respect upon his holy city, Mecca? 
 Why does the American feel such enthusiasm at the 
 sight of his country's flag in a foreign land ? Why 
 does each one of us regard with such peculiar feelings 
 some particular spot, some trifling article in our pos- 
 2* 
 
18 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 session, some one passage in the book of our lives ? 
 It is because of the associations connected with it, be- 
 cause of the feeh'ngs it arouses within us. Mecca was 
 the city of the Mohammedan's prophet. He is taught 
 from his infancy to reverence it because it was once 
 the home of the founder of his faith. The American 
 rejoices at the sight of the ' stars and stripes,' for it 
 tells him of home and of his native country. He hails 
 it as a mark of his nation's glory and the ensign of 
 his own freedom. And so we call to mind, as we visit 
 a certain locality, the occurrence which here took 
 place. We remember the occasion marked by some 
 trifling memento. And the return of some particular 
 day brings with it the recollection pleasing or sad of 
 what on this day took place long before. 
 
 But what associations cluster around this yellow 
 gum ? What thought does it bring to our mind as we 
 gaze upon its unpromising exterior ? Place a piece 
 of it in the hand of the next person you may see, and 
 ask him to tell you what he can about it. Perhaps 
 this person may be a lover of history, and should it 
 be the case his discourse might take somewhat the 
 form of the following : — More than three thousand 
 years ago, a great nation, the Children of Israel, jour- 
 neyed through the wilderness to Mount Sinai, and then 
 and there they received from God through their 
 prophet. His commands as to the method in which they 
 should perform the service of His house. There they 
 received all their grand old ceremonial forms and usa- 
 ges which marked them as a peculiar people, and so 
 clearly distinguished them from the Gentile nations 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 19 
 
 about them. And one of the prominent particulars 
 of this service was the burning continually upon the 
 golden altar this substance, frankincense— and for fif- 
 teen hundred years its fragrant clouds rose perpetually 
 towards Heaven, filling those sacred courts with em- 
 blematic prayer and praise, and bearing upward the 
 fervent petitions of kneeling multitudes, teaching both 
 Pharisee and Publican that so his heart should ascend 
 in all faith and sincerity to his Almighty Creator and 
 Protector ; that so his own good deeds should rise as 
 a perpetual incense before his God. But at the end 
 of this time a new light broke upon the world, and the 
 Messiah came. He instituted tlie reality in the place 
 of the emblem in the service of His Church. But the 
 Jews were too strongly attached to their ceremonial 
 law and they resisted its abolition, and how they re- 
 sisted we all know. They slew their king, and in a 
 few short years the Roman legions, under Vespasiam, 
 were thronging the streets of the holy city— their 
 beautiful temple was destroyed by the sacrilegious 
 hands of pagan soldiers. And there the ceremonial 
 law virtually perished, and from thenceforth the Jews 
 were a scattered people, their religion was without a 
 home. But the burning of incense was again revived 
 in the Christian Church, and at this present day its 
 fragrant perfume rises from a thousand censers swung 
 by the priests of Rome throughout all the world. 
 From all the magnificent cathedrals of Europe, from 
 the less pretending churches of our own land, from 
 the simple edifice of the Roman mission in the far off 
 
20 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 wilds, such symbolic prayer and praise is continually 
 taking its way skyward — Heavenward we will not say. 
 
 These, perhaps, might be the words of the histo- 
 rian upon this subject, and as they fall upon our own 
 ears they would naturally arouse ideas in us were we 
 the champion of any religious dogma, or inclined to 
 discuss different beliefs ; we might enter upon long dis- 
 quisitions upon the doctrines and usages of the Jew- 
 ish Church, we might enlarge upon the merits or 
 demerits of Romanism, or taking the duties of the 
 moralist, we might draw many useful and instructive 
 lessons from this short sketch. Were we architects, 
 or sculptors, or artists, the very mention of the splen- 
 did buildings of Europe would be sufficient to rouse 
 all our attention and call forth all our knowledge and 
 feelings upon our favorite theme. The scholar easily 
 discovers in the subject much for future inquiry. The 
 poet w41l always find a theme congenial to his nature 
 in that which to others seems very barren. But all 
 these have little to do with our subject. So we must 
 take only those ideas which have a nearer relation 
 to it. 
 
 We find that wherever it has been in use in all reli- 
 gious services, that its good qualities have been devel- 
 oped by the touch of fire, that in its natural state its 
 odor is not remarkably agreeable or pungent, but when 
 exposed to the action of fire, it takes a new form, en- 
 tirely changed and made suitable for the service to 
 which it is applied. Fii^e works the important altera- 
 tion. And so it is with mankind in the course of life. 
 Men are like frankincense, for they need the all-pow- 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 21 
 
 erful touch of Jire to bring out the salient point in 
 their character and to form the noble elements of their 
 character into a harmonious structure of real great- 
 ness. The hot fire of raging disease develops in us 
 all our patient endurance and subdues the fierce pas- 
 sions of our nature. Our fortitude and calmness are 
 best declared by our conduct when suffering from the 
 racking torture of intense bodily pain. The fire of 
 terrible afiliction brings into action all our submission 
 and faith. And what is more noble, more manly, what 
 better evinces all our firmness of character and self 
 restraint than the curbing in the human heart the 
 fierce fire of angry passions? Were it not for the 
 trying fire our most noble characteristics would never 
 be developed. Where do we find the finest character ? 
 From whence come all the old martyrs and heroes and 
 reformers ? What developed the energy and resolution 
 of their spirits ? It was the fire of persecution and 
 opposition. What has roused the greatest champions 
 of freedom, both political and religious ? The fiery 
 oppression of an overbearing tyranny. And so the 
 noble and manly in our nature, like the qualities of 
 frankincense, are brought out by the magic action of 
 fire, and were it not for this subtle element many great 
 characters would never have illuminated this earth by 
 their brilliant examples. But unlike frankincense in 
 one respect the fire of trial and necessity and afflic- 
 tion and persecution, does not destroy, it only purifies 
 and renders more vivid and brilliant the simple gold 
 of nature on which it takes its effect. 
 
 With the abolishment of the ceremonial law of the 
 
22 
 
 A MEMORIAL OP 
 
 Jewish Church the emblematic worship before that 
 time in full force was ended, and in its place the 
 reality was substituted. One last great offering fin- 
 ished the sacrificial form. The burning of incense 
 upon the altar was supplanted by the real, fervent 
 prayers of pious worshippers and by the voluntary, 
 spontaneous praise of the pure heart and of all the 
 world, animate and inanimate. Would you see some 
 of the frankincense of nature that rises continually 
 from our beautiful Earth ? You have only to walk 
 abroad at any time and you may see it in all its beauty 
 if your heart is not entirely bound down by the worldly 
 ties of a too active life. The innumerable host of 
 created beings are continually sending upward their 
 offerings of frankincense. We find it in the majestic 
 roar of the king of beasts, in the sweet notes of the 
 singing birds, in the tiny hum of the smallest insect, 
 the roar of the mountain cataract, and the musical fall 
 of the mountain cascade, the terrible peal of the thun- 
 der, and the resistless rush of the tempest. The silent 
 surface of the placid lake breathes out quietly this in- 
 cense to Him above. Swift fishes, rejoicing in their 
 activity beneath its waters, add to its volume. All 
 vegetation, every majestic tree, the dark cypress and 
 laurel, the luxuriant jungles of the tropics, the many- 
 colored autumn woods of New England, the nodding 
 daisies of the field, the brilliant gems of the morass^ 
 the delicate blossoms of the deep woods, all join in 
 sending to Heaven the frankincense of praise. Paint- 
 ing, science, hterature, music, all the hberal arts in 
 their abstract purity, are among the throng of offerers. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 23 
 
 And the lmm<an heart, and still more the soul, in their 
 first, pure existence, lead the rest of creation in the 
 service. And what a mighty cloud is formed by the 
 unison and blending of all these elements into one 
 great offering of incense to the Maker and Creator of 
 all things ! " 
 
 From the correspondence of Perkins while at 
 school and college, with his most intimate friend 
 Clarence King, some extracts have been kindly 
 furnished by the mother of the latter. She says, 
 " I have selected several passages which mark 
 his devout spirit toward God and his constant 
 looking toward that blessed life upon which 
 he has now entered, and others, which show 
 his deep love of nature and the vein of jocose- 
 ness which brightened the natural seriousness 
 of his mind and demeanor" — and alluding to 
 the deep attachment between her son and his 
 friend, "to whom his soul was knit as David unto 
 Jonathan," " they were one in their keen in- 
 tellectual zest for the highest mental enjoyment, 
 and one in their fervent desire to become Christ- 
 like in heart and life. I never saw a truer love 
 of nature than in your son's heart and eye, for 
 he saw and felt. I remember how he lifted his 
 eyes to the fine old hills at Brattleboro when he 
 was leaving us, and said, " Shall I ever see so 
 much beauty again ? " 
 
24 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 " Only the night before Clarence left me for 
 his long western journey, during a long night's 
 talk, he spoke of him as most dear and valued, 
 and said, " If he lives he will make a great 
 man." 
 
 We copy these extracts. The first one is a 
 boy's expression of friendship and hope and con- 
 stancy ; so elevated and far reaching in its 
 hopes and anticipations ! — " How very sweet it 
 is to have this bond of Christian fellowship ; 
 without it oui' friendships would be nothing, lia- 
 ble to be broken at any moment ; now it forms 
 a link which nothing can break here or here- 
 after. I pray most earnestly that this Christian 
 life and fire may be kept brightly burning, and 
 be the motive power of all our future lives." 
 
 " I have just been reading an account of the 
 terrible accident at Lawrence, and it has filled 
 me with thankfulness for the mercies of our 
 Father, who has kept me from all harm through 
 our many adventures, and surely some of them 
 were full of peril. Life is very uncertain. I 
 hope I may be ready to go at any moment." 
 
 " He was ' ready.' " 
 
 " To morrow is Easter Sunday. I shall think 
 of you often, and you will, I know, remember 
 me. When we celebrate the resurrection of the 
 Redeemer we can rejoice that he is ours^ and 
 that wherever we are nothing can deprive us of 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 25 
 
 his love nor of the sure hope of everlasting life 
 through His blood. May God keep us true to 
 Him and ' unspotted from the world,' and then 
 after this brief fight of life we shall forever be 
 at rest ! ' " 
 
 " 0, my brother, what longings to be always 
 with you were awakened by our brief meeting 
 last week ! We will not always be parted ; we 
 are going somewhere beyond the regions of this 
 earth, for we are not altogether ' of the earth, 
 earthy.' Pray for me always even if we should 
 be so far separated as to be wholly out of the 
 reach of communication. I mean, of course, in 
 body^ for we can never be separated in spirit. 
 That is a glorious thought. Though our bodies 
 may be lying in their last resting places, our 
 souls may always meet each other, and finally 
 meet to part no more." 
 
 '•'■ Sunday evening is so different now. No, 
 C and J to meet and walk with, watch- 
 ing the fine sun-sets and cloud-pictures. How 
 often have we walked up and down Washington 
 street, and talked as boys seldom do. Truly we 
 have had a strangely happy boyhood together. I 
 hope the cares of life may never take from us 
 the feelings we now have, but that we may be 
 an example of brotherly Cliristian love amongst 
 men.''' 
 
 " To-night I shall go out and walk, though it 
 
^v 
 
 26 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 rains and howls. It will quiet me, for I love a 
 storm, — it lifts me above common thought." 
 
 Was this feeling in unison with that of the 
 poet Keble when he heard in the tempest and 
 the whirlwind, voices proclaiming the power and 
 the love of God ? 
 
 " They know the Almighty's power, 
 
 Who, waken'd by the rushing midnight shower, 
 
 Watch for the fitful breeze 
 
 To howl and chafe amid the bending trees, — 
 
 Watch for the still, white gleam 
 
 To bathe the landscape in a fiery stream, 
 
 Touching the tremulous eye with sense of light 
 
 Too rapid and too pure for all but angel's sight. 
 
 " They know the Almighty's love, 
 Who, when the whirlwinds rock the topmost grove. 
 Stand in the shade, and hear 
 The tumult, with a deep, exulting fear ; 
 How in their fiercest sway, 
 Curb'd by some power unseen, they die away, 
 Like a bold steed that owns his rider's arm. 
 Proud to be check'd and sooth'd by that o'ermaster- 
 ing charm." 
 
 " My dear old mathematics I give up with a 
 real regret ; mathematics first brought you and 
 me together, old fellow ; is not there poetry in 
 that?" 
 
 " It does not seem right to go fishing without 
 you and Z . It is not pleasant to see some 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 27 
 
 one else fishing in a liole against wliich I knew 
 you had a grudge. But we'll try it together 
 yet, and many times I hope. Maine and New 
 Brunswick loom up in my imagination, backed 
 by recommendations of the immortal F. F. 
 Just tliink of catching a salmon ! wouldn't it 
 be glorious. "Nil desperandum," — we'll go 
 there." 
 
 " The road to Manchester was the same as 
 ever, but without all those beautiful wild flow- 
 ers which bloom along its sides. Our pretty lit- 
 tle violets were just beginning to look green, 
 but the hill where the lupines grew was brown 
 and bare. The Hockanum was black and still 
 as ever. It always reminds me of the ancient 
 Styx, or of the last river we shall cross. It is 
 so dark and solitary. That fine little hill where 
 our camp stood has been cleared, but the old 
 maple at the brookside is there in all its single- 
 ness, and as I passed under its thick branches, 
 I thought of all our pasts held in its shadow, 
 feasts of trout and chocolate, and how we used 
 to lie there and discuss our plans. It all seems 
 like a dream now. But there was a very strange 
 reality in yesterday's experience, for all day 
 there raged a fierce March wind, colder than a 
 patent freezer and keener than Attic salt ! Both 
 of us were lightly clad, and it was very inter- 
 esting, to say the least. At various points in 
 
28 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 the proceedings B , who did not see the fun 
 
 of it at all, would whang down his rod and per- 
 form the latest figures of the Peejee war dance, 
 with appropriate cries and gestures." 
 
 "' College is all in a military furor just now. 
 A company is being organized, and everybody 
 expects to join. I suppose we are to go South 
 and fight for Slate rights. I have become a reg- 
 ular fire-eater, and practice swallowing a few 
 coals before breakfast every morning, just to 
 keep in trim." 
 
 " I am getting more and more anxious to go 
 to the war. I am convinced that this trouble is 
 no transient outbreak to be quelled in a few 
 months, but that it is a great struggle to test 
 the power of our government and purge us from 
 our national sins. I am thoroughly convinced 
 that it is my duty to be amongst the defenders 
 of our national principles, and would go to the 
 war immediately but for the pressure of other 
 duties which hold me here for a time." 
 
 " Trinity, Oct. 21st. 
 Dear Brother, — 
 
 It is almost dark, and I am sitting here in 
 my room and longing to see you, 0, ever so 
 much. I want to tell you so many things that 
 I can't very well write, — and I want to write 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. * 29 
 
 you a Sunday note just as I used to, — but of 
 late I have felt very wicked. I have felt some- 
 times almost like murmuring at God's dispensa- 
 tions ; I have not had that loving humble feeling 
 toward my Saviour, that I should have — but 
 when I really think, I still feel that firm trust 
 and confidence in his merciful power, and look 
 forward to a brighter future if not here, at least 
 where we shall both be for eternity. 0, Clare, 
 what would this world be with all its deceitful 
 pleasures, with all its vanity and lieartlessness, 
 with all its trials and troubles and anxieties, if it 
 were all we had to look to. No, there is another 
 world beyond, yea and above this one, and every 
 thing there is bright and pure and lovely and 
 peaceful, and you and I will, if we ' so run,' at 
 last meet on its shining shore. The very thought 
 is enough to reconcile one to any amount of 
 pain and anxiety now. Yet how often when 
 busy with the affairs of the world do we forget 
 all about it, and fret and murmur at our lot. 
 My earnest prayer is that I may have an obedi- 
 ent, contented, humble heart ; so bear my trials 
 that I may be purified and made better by them, 
 and thus learn to enjoy real pleasures more than 
 those furnished by the world. 
 
 But it is growing too dark to write. I will 
 write you soon again. Try to write at least 
 3* 
 
30 "" A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 once a week. Remember me to all the fellows. 
 Good bye, and may God bless you. 
 Your Brother, 
 
 D. P. Dewey." 
 
 Of the "trials and troubles and anxieties" 
 which at this time weighed down the soul of this 
 noble minded boy it is not necessary to speak 
 particularly. It is enough to say that they were 
 of a nature so painful and so trying that the de- 
 termination and strength of manhood, unsus- 
 tained by Christian faith and courage, would 
 have trembled under their weight ; but with what 
 faith and patience and childlike submission he 
 seeks to draw from them the lesson they were 
 sent to teach, and to be borne upward in his 
 Christian course by his saddest experiences ! 
 
 After attaining a high standing in the insti- 
 tution over which Mr. Curtis so successfully 
 presided, Perkins Dewey, entered Trinity Col- 
 lege, Hartford, and there the same close habits 
 of study, the same honorable, manly, straight- 
 forward endeavor, the same settled, earnest, 
 religious spirit marked this young disciple of 
 Christ, which had been as " ornaments of grace 
 about his head and as chains about his neck," 
 while he gained one point beyond another in 
 his onward progress ; and although he was cut 
 down before he had received the honors which 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 31 
 
 undoubtedly would have been awarded him at 
 the close of his college course, yet the record 
 of his faithfulness is not wanting from the high- 
 est officer of that institution, although it was 
 given as he stood sorrowfully by his cold re- 
 mains as they lay in the house of God. . 
 
 Professor Brockelsby, also, so widely known 
 and respected as a professor in Trinity College, 
 adds his affectionate and honorable testimony 
 to the worth of this young man. He writes : — 
 
 " Young Dewey entered Trinity College in 
 the fall of I860, and from that time till his de- 
 parture for the war, I met him almost daily in 
 my classes. From his entrance he stood among 
 the first scholars of his class, and was remark- 
 able for his solid sense and clear intellect. 
 What were difficulties to others were mastered 
 by him with ease, and it was a pleasure, in the 
 recitation, to hear his luminous exposition of 
 the subject before him. 
 
 But with all his ability there was no ambi- 
 tious display, and he won the love and esteem 
 of his teachers and companions by his modest 
 and unassuming manners. He was firm in 
 principle, and seeking Divine guidance, earn 
 estly endeavored to do his duty, whatever dis- 
 couragements and perplexities beset his path. 
 A bright and useful future seemed to be before 
 
32 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 him. It was indeed brilliant, and heroic : but 
 how brief ! 
 
 Yet life is made up not of years but of deeds ; 
 and who can say but that my noble young- 
 friend has not better fulfilled the purposes of 
 his existence than many of us who watched over 
 his youth, and wept above his tomb ! 
 
 In his death the college mourns the loss of 
 one of her brightest jewels." 
 
 At the time that young Dewey joined the 
 army he had reached the beginning of his junior 
 year in college. The year before, a company 
 had been formed by the students for drill and 
 other military exercises ; of this company he 
 was a member. From the first outbreak of the 
 war his thoughts and wishes were growing more 
 and more earnest to join the army. During 
 his summer vacation, in 1862, he went with 
 some of his young friends on an excursion 
 to Canada, at the time that some of our citi- 
 zens had fled thither to escape the draft. His 
 little party was apprehended and detained on 
 the way upon suspicion of going there for the 
 same purpose. This circumstance only in- 
 creased his desire to go to the war, and enroll 
 himself at once amongst the champions of order, 
 freedom and-good government. But upon re- 
 flection he deferred it till he should return 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. So 
 
 to Hartford ; then with a simple and earnest 
 appeal he asked the consent of his mother to 
 join the twenty-fifth regiment, which was at that 
 time encamped at Hartford. '' Mother, it is 
 my duty ; don't refuse me ! " His whole heart 
 and soul seemed to be absorbed in this one 
 wish ; his determination was inflexible, only 
 awaiting some sign of acquiescence from his 
 mother, while she stood, unwilUng to damp 
 the ardor of a soul burning with patriotism and 
 filled with high resolve of duty and self-sacri- 
 fice and unable to say the word which gave her 
 noble son as an offering to his country— that 
 son, upon whom even in his youth her spirit 
 rested with so much confidence for comfort, for 
 assistance, and for counsel,' and who gave her 
 such well-grounded promise for all her future 
 years— he turned from her, gathering her con- 
 sent from her unwonted silence, and without 
 delay joined the twenty-fifth regiment Connec- 
 ticut volunteers, where he remained until his 
 death. 
 
 His letters from the time of his enlistment 
 till the fatal battle of Irish Bend, will be read 
 with interest by those for whom this memorial 
 is intended— the friends who knew and appre- 
 ciated his worth — the soldiers who were his 
 companions in arms and, during the short time 
 of their intercourse with him, had learned to 
 
34 A MEMORIAL OP 
 
 love and honor him — for all who would follow 
 one out of the thousands and tens of thousands 
 who have left a home of comfort and enjoy- 
 ment, friends the most beloved, and all the op- 
 portunities of improvement in quiet study, in 
 refined society, in the priceless advantages of 
 religious instruction, with all other privileges of 
 the church of Christ, and gone forth heroically 
 and cheerfully with their lives in their hands, 
 to stand in the face of danger and of death, and 
 to contend against a deadly enemy in the cause 
 of that God whose throne is the habitation of 
 justice and judgment, and before whose face 
 mercy and truth have their eternal dwelling- 
 place. 
 
 We give the letters in the order in which 
 they were written, from the time of his first 
 encampment with his regiment in Hartford, 
 until almost his last weary night of service. 
 The first was written from the camp at Hart- 
 ford, to his only sister who was at school in 
 New Haven. 
 
 Camp Halleck, Sept. 30th, 1863. 
 
 My dear Fannie : — I received your letter some 
 time ago, but I have put oft' answering it until now, 
 as I have had neither opportunity nor the means of 
 writing. To-day I am corporal of the guard over the 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 35 
 
 drafted men or rather over the camp where the drafted 
 men ought to be, but are not. They have a camp 
 just south of the 22d, but for the last week tliere has 
 not been a man in it. Nevertheless a guard is sent 
 over every morning, from the 25th, to take care of 
 them, but as the tents are all empty the guard is not 
 very strict, so that we have an easy time. The senti- 
 nels sit down or stand up, smoke, sing and eat, in fact, 
 do about as they are a mind to. This is not so how- 
 ever in the other camp, there they are very strict. 
 The guard is detailed every morning at breakfast time, 
 and goes on duty at nine and remains on duty till nine 
 next morning. The whole guard is divided into three 
 parts, called " reliefs," one of which goes on duty 
 every three hours, relieving the one before it, so that 
 sentinels are on their beat two hours and off four, but 
 they must be at the guard house that four hours, so 
 that on the whole it is no easy matter to "mount 
 guard." I have been on twice before as private, and 
 once as a corporal, so that I know a little about it. I 
 was appointed acting corporal Sunday morning, but 
 can't tell whether I shall be made a real corporal or 
 not. Guess I shall though, and perhaps higher, as 
 things look now. 
 
 Our regiment is nearly full and will be sworn in and 
 equipped in a few days, and soon after sent off. The 
 22d is all ready and will go off it is said, day after 
 to-morrow, (Thursday,) and then we shall go into 
 their tents. It is very pleasant and much more com- 
 fortable in barracks, but we don't have so many visit- 
 ors, so that it is rather dull. We drill four hours everv 
 
36 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 day, two in the morning and two in the afternoon. 
 Sometimes the heat is excessive and sometimes the 
 ground is wet and slippery and then it is fun to see 
 the men slide. Roll call at 5.50 in the morning, 
 breakfast at six. The officers drill from 6 J to 7^, 
 guard mounting at 8, drill from 9 J till ll^, dinner at 
 12, drill again at 2, dress parade at 5.30 ; then noth- 
 ing more except supper till 9, when all the companies 
 fall in for roll call, and at 9J all lights must be put 
 ^ out and the barracks quiet. And this is the way we 
 live every day. Our food is plain but plenty. We 
 have coffee or tea at every meal, but no milk, gener- 
 ally. We have beans or soup for breakfast, fresh or 
 salt meat, or soup and vegetables for dinner ; at supper, 
 hominy or rice and occasionally stewed apples, and 
 bread at all meals without butter. To-day we had 
 beef-steak and sweet potatoes, but that is unusual. 
 Mother keeps me well supplied with fruit and some- 
 times sends me little nice things from home. Yester- 
 day she made me a present of a fine silver watch to 
 take to the war. So you see that thus far my soldier- 
 life has not been very hard. My health, and in fact, 
 that of the whole regiment has been very good, and 
 we are all in a hurry to go off. If I can get a fur- 
 lough I shall visit New Haven, and come and see you. 
 It is about time to take my men over to supper, so 
 that I can not write much more. Be a " good girl," 
 and if I do not come back from the war, as perhaps I 
 may not, be good to mother. Nothing will please her 
 more than to have you improve in your studies and 
 character. Try to become good as well as accom- 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 37 
 
 plished, and do not be misled by any bad influences 
 about you. Write to me soon and tell me how you 
 are getting along, and all about school. Good bye, 
 remember me to Julia, and all the girls. 
 Your loving brother, 
 
 D. P. Dewey. 
 
 The regiment left their camp at Hartford, in 
 the early part of November, and Perkins writ- 
 ing from the next encampment, " Camp Buck- 
 ingham," East New York, under date of No- 
 vember 15th, says : — 
 
 " Dear Mother : 
 
 We had a pleasant trip to New York, and the^cap- 
 tain of the boat said he never had a more orderly 
 regiment aboard. We had to sleep on the floor, but 
 were so tired that we slept soundly. We disem- 
 barked at Williamsport, where breakfast was served 
 out to us through the exertions of Colonel Almy, the 
 Connecticut agent in New York. Then we marched 
 out here, and a pretty tough pull it was, but the day 
 was pleasant and the air cool, and we rested several 
 times, so that we stood it pretty well. We have 
 been very busy since, and I broke off from work to 
 write now, — but there is a gentleman on the ground 
 who offers to carry letters to New York, and I am 
 improving the opportunity. 
 
 Do write to me at once, for I am beginning to be 
 homesick already." 
 
 4 
 
38 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 Transport Mary Boardman, 
 Dec. 3d, 1862. 
 
 Dear Mother: 
 
 I received your last letter yesterday. It went out 
 to Centreville, and then through the exertions of the 
 chaplain, was brought aboard. I was sorry not to see 
 you before you left, but everything was in such a snarl 
 that I really did not know what was going to happen, 
 nor how to act from one minute to another. The 
 order came for us to move Thursday night, as I told 
 you in my note, but Friday passed, and either it 
 was countermanded or something happened to pre- 
 vent its execution. I rather expected some one out 
 to the camp, but no one came. Friday night we 
 did not expect to move until the next week. How- 
 ever, all was uncertainty, and as I saw A. C on 
 
 the ground early Saturday morning I asked him to 
 go to Henry's place and beg you to come out imme- 
 diately, and if he had done so, as he did not, I should 
 have seen you. We did not leave till three o'clock 
 P. M. I watched for you but you did not come, and 
 I had to console myself the best way I could. I 
 looked for you all the way in, but did not much ex- 
 pect to see you, as we did not reacli Brooklyn till after 
 dark and it was raining great guns, as it did most of 
 the way in. We marched ten miles in three hours 
 and a half, after drilling all the morning. We went 
 down Atlantic street to the South Ferry and embarked 
 on board this boat, the Mary A. Boardman, a small, 
 black screw propeller. There are about 350 men^ 
 one company (K) being on board the She-Kiang, a 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 39 
 
 large, white side-wheel steamer, and the rest of the 
 regiment (five companies) are on the Empire City, 
 another steamer ; so you see we are pretty well di- 
 vided up. Our vessel, I think, is the best sea-goer. 
 She was built for the China trade and has been to 
 Pensacola and Newbern before. I think she is safer 
 than any of the others, aUhough smaller. I would de- 
 scribe to you, if I could, our accommodations, but I 
 can not do them justice. The cabin where we sleep 
 is too low for a six-footer to stand upright in except be- 
 tween the beams of the deck above. In this space 
 there are three tiers of bunks made of rough boards, 
 and each man in consequence has less than two feet 
 in height and in width has eighteen inches ; in length, 
 four feet six inches — (I am four feet eight inches tall) 
 and in this small space each man is expected to stow 
 himself and all his traps. Between the two sides 
 where the bunks are, a double row of rifle boxes is 
 laid and on these company B sleeps — rather poor 
 beds, but they have more room over head. My bunk 
 is near the end, and near a port hole usually open and 
 once in a while a breath of pure air comes in, but the 
 atmosphere of the place at night, with over three hun- 
 dred men sleeping or trying to sleep in it, is perfectly 
 awful. The odors and sounds that arise make it al- 
 most intolerable. I could easily stand the inconven- 
 ience of being crowded if to it was not added such a 
 risk of health. I tremble to think of the time when 
 we are all sea-sick. Habit has made it endurable, 
 even comfortable sometimes, now, but I fear the worst 
 is to come. The first night aboard, being tired by the 
 
40 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 march, I slept well. That night, (vSaturday,) we lay out 
 in the channel, expecting to sail next morning. In the 
 morning the captain came to me knowing my skill 
 with an oar, and asked me if I would like to be de- 
 tailed on a boat's crew to pull between the vessel and 
 the shore, and you will readily believe I didn't say no. 
 So all day Sunday we lay in the same place, and I 
 pulled back and forth in a life-boat, busy all day long, 
 and it was an inexpressible relief from the constraint 
 and monotony of the vessel. Many gave me com- 
 missions to do on shore, and I had some business 
 of my own, and I almost ran my legs off. That 
 night I tried to sleep in my bunk again, but I was 
 obliged to clear out and go on deck till I got chilled 
 through, and then came down for another hour or 
 so, and thus I spent the night. Monday came, but 
 no signs of sailing, and it was spent by me in the same 
 way as Sunday, and that night I bunked out on deck 
 and slept finely. Yesterday morning, (Tuesday,) I 
 rowed again, and in its course I visited a barber, took 
 a thorough bath, had my hair cut and all my whiskers 
 taken off; my face is now as smooth as yours. At 
 noon we sailed and thought ourselves fairly started, 
 but alas ! we had to haul to opposite Staten Island, 
 owing to something wrong in the order and lay here 
 all night, to the immense disgust of all. I slept on 
 deck again and shall do so hereafter. This morning 
 we are expecting to sail every minute ; the sooner the 
 better. We have been on shipboard four nights al- 
 ready and shall be two or three more, but no one is 
 anxious to prolong the time. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 41 
 
 I shall send this letter back by the pilot ; as soon as 
 I get anywhere I will write again and give ray ad- 
 dress ; until then you need not send any letters, though 
 I wish you would write every day, if possible, and send 
 me all in a bunch when you do send. 
 
 Love to all, the boys. Aunt Susan, Mary "Jane," 
 etc., and be assured of mine to you. 
 Good bye, 
 
 D. P. Dewey. 
 
 Sdnday, Dec. 7th, 1862. 
 Transport Mary A Boardman. 
 
 Dear Mother: 
 
 We have been a week on shipboard and shall be 
 another, if not more. Soon after I finished my last 
 letter orders came aboard with directions for the Col. 
 to open them after twenty-four hours' sailing to the 
 south. At two o'clock the next day they were opened, 
 found to be orders to sail with all speed to Ship Island 
 in the Gulf of Mexico, near the mouth of the Mis- 
 sissippi, where the 12th went. This was a surprise 
 to all and was hardly credited at first, but it must be 
 so, for we have been steaming away to the south ever 
 since, and are now somewhere on the lower coast of 
 Georgia. We would have been farther but for a ter- 
 rific old gale that struck us near Hatteras and con- 
 tinued with great violence for about twelve hours, 
 being at its height about twelve o'clock Friday night, 
 when nearly every wave washed over us from stem to 
 stern. In the morning the smoke-stack was white 
 with a crust of salt from the spray. Our little steamer 
 4* 
 
42 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 stood it splendidly. She mounted the huge rollers 
 like a cork, and when we were going down the sides 
 of one the deck looked like the roof of a house only- 
 much steeper. I tell you there were some scared 
 aboard. However, there was no real danger at any 
 time, and as it was impossible to sleep on deck with 
 any degree of comfort, I went below and slept like a 
 top till morning. Strange to say among all the sea- 
 sickness I have not suffered from it at all yet, I do 
 not think I shall ; but it is the first time though I hope 
 not the last. I should not dare to be sick now, I have 
 laughed so much at the others. It is dreadful lone- 
 some here on the ocean, we've seen no land since'the 
 first night. It is all sea and sky with occasionally a 
 school of porpoise or a gull, or away off in the distance 
 a sail. Vessels howe,ver, do not come very near us. 
 Low black steamers are too suspicious in these days 
 of privateers and blockades to invite close acquaint- 
 ance. But we shall have to stop soon to coal, proba- 
 bly at the Tortugas, an island at the southern ex- 
 tremity of Florida ; and if we do I shall try to send 
 a letter home. If I do you must not say anything 
 about our destination, if the information reaches you 
 before it is made public. I have written until my 
 fingers ache. 
 
 7 A. 3L, Wednesday, Dec, 1862. We are now ly- 
 ing in front of Fort Jefferson on the ^ry Tortugas 
 which we reached last night about 3 o'clock. All has 
 been well and pleasant especially the weathor since 
 Sunday, which is as mild and pleasant as June. I 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 43 
 
 can hardly realize that it is the 20th of December, 
 but so it is. 
 
 This island where we are lying is a small one and 
 as we look at it from the steamer is nothing but sand, 
 with a big fort around it. We may have a chance to 
 see the inside of it, if we land, and then I can tell bet- 
 ter about it. At ' present I see '/no prospect of any 
 fruit or anything else different from our sea fare. I 
 am going to mail this from ihere, although you may 
 never get it, but there is a chance of it and I shall 
 try. I know the chaplain will do his best and that is 
 a good deal. Love to all, and lots^to yourself. 
 Your atFectionate son, 
 
 D. 
 
 Ship Island, Dec. 15tit, 1862. 
 De/ar Mother: 
 
 We arrived here this morning, after a very pleasant 
 trip of thirty-six hours from Tortugas. We are now 
 lying just off shore, and can not say whether we shall 
 land or not. I hope so by all means, as we have been 
 on this old steamer long enough to be tired of it. We 
 landed at Tortugas, from which place I mailed a letter 
 which you must have received by this time. We 
 spent about twelve hours, bathing, lounging and look- 
 ing about. It was one of the greatest reliefs I ever 
 had to get on shore again and lie down on the ground. 
 Inside the fort it was much pleasanter than outside. 
 The trees and grass are in full leaf and the air is as 
 warm as summer, although the soldiers of the garri- 
 son said it was the coldest day they had had for 
 some months and were amazed at our idea of going 
 
44 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 into the water ; but we went notwithstanding. The 
 vegetation was entirely different from anything I have 
 ever seen. The ground was mostly composed of bare 
 sand, particles of coral and shells ; but here and there 
 were patches of long and wonderfully soft grass- 
 There were many tall cocoanut palms with their long, 
 fan-hke leaves, and one date palm, besides acacia trees 
 and mangroves ; everything was entirely tropical. 
 The fort itself is of brick and one of the largest I ever 
 saw ; it is nearly a mile in circumference and the 
 walls in the thinnest part are nine feet thick ; it has 
 six sides with a bastion at every corner on which is 
 mounted a ten inch columbiad — one of them is a 
 twelve incher, from which they fired a salute when we 
 left. The weight of it was 15,145 lbs., and it carries 
 a shot weighing 128 pounds ; a pretty good sized pop- 
 gun. Outside the fort is defended naturally by long 
 and wide sand-shoals, over which no vessel can ap- 
 proach and the only channel is so protected that it 
 would be sure death for anything to attempt it. On 
 these shoals are thousands of shells of all kinds and 
 sizes and colors, and great quantities of beautiful coral 
 and sea weed. I picked up some of the smaller shells 
 to send home, but I don't know how I can do it at 
 present. 
 
 After loading our coal we had a dress parade in the 
 fort and then embarked again and set sail. Tliis last 
 short trip has been the most pleasant of all the voy- 
 age. We have been sailing in the warm and smooth 
 waters of the gulf of Mexico, watching flying fish and 
 porpoises and nautilus and sun fish, and all the won- 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 45 
 
 ders of the sea. At night in these latitudes the stars 
 are very brilliant, and in the water are thousands of 
 phosphorescent sparks whenever there is any com- 
 motion, so that the vessel leaves a light trail far be- 
 hind it, and then we have some splendid "sings" every 
 night to while away the time. 
 
 But I could not say all I wanted to about the sights 
 of this new country if I was to write till to-morrow— 
 so I must leave the rest till I can tell you about it. 
 Of course in viva voce I am well, but we all have to 
 be careful as the climate is treacherous, producing a 
 fever which is almost always fatal ; but it is now the 
 most healthful season and there is little real danger. 
 
 I must adjourn now for dinner. 
 
 Your affectionate son, D. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Dear Mother: 
 
 Of Ship Island we saw but little, but I saw enough 
 to make me glad we were not going to stay there. It 
 is a long, low sand-bar ; the sand is the finest I ever 
 saw, with no sign of vegetation except some vines 
 that run along the ground, some leaves of which I 
 enclose. Perhaps with all your botanical knowledge 
 you can tell what it is. At day-break this morning 
 we were off the mouth of the Mississippi and all day 
 we have been steaming up its muddy waters, following 
 close in the wake of the North Star, which leads the 
 way with Head-quarters aboard. We are the second 
 ship of the fleet, thus far, although there is a big steamer 
 just behind doing her best to get ahead of us, and I 
 guess she will do it as the M. B. is rather a slow con- 
 cern. We passed forts Jackson on one side and St. 
 
46 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 Phillip on the other, and they fired a salute in honor 
 of us. 
 
 I am terribly disappointed in the " Father of Wa- 
 ters. There is very little about it so far that it is ma- 
 jestic or beautiful. It is narrow and muddy, the banks 
 but for the novelty of their vegetation and dwellings, 
 would be very uninteresting. We are passing con- 
 tinually plantations of rice, sugar and cotton, and 
 nearly every house has an orange grove with trees in 
 full bloom and fruit. We look with longing eyes upon 
 them but can not get any. An old negress in the 
 generosity of her heart came out with her arms full 
 and tried to throw them aboard, but alas ! they went 
 only a few feet from the shore. However, we will 
 soon get plenty of them, I suppose. I have written 
 enough for such a hot day and I will wait till it is 
 cooler and scribble some more, but for fear I don't, I 
 will give you my address again. It is name, com- 
 pany, regiment. Gen. Banks' Expedition via Wash- 
 ington. Please write immediately, and often, and 
 send all the Vanity Fairs or other papers you can get. 
 Yours, lovingly, 
 
 D. P. Dewey. 
 
 Baton Rouge, La., 
 Christmas, 1862. 
 Dear Mother : 
 
 Here I am away down in Louisiana, my first Christ- 
 mas from home, and to-day I have thought of old 
 Hartford and those in it, many times. But there is 
 little use in wishing to be there, as it is unavailing, and 
 I must make the best of it. Acting upon this same 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 47 
 
 idea I made a purchase of some corn-bread this morn- 
 ing, from a slave and a box of sardines, which with 
 fried bacon and potatoes that Uncle Sam furnished us 
 made up my Christmas dinner. I tried to get a 
 chicken but did not succeed, and in fact it is hard to 
 get anything at all at any price. 
 
 I went to church this morning with the adjutant and 
 a squad, at the Roman Catholic Church, the only one 
 open. The congregation w^as composed chiefly of 
 soldiers, as the town is almost entirely deserted, but 
 there were more and a better class of people than I 
 should have imagined, and the singing was very good. 
 Not equal to Christ Church to be sure, but neverthe- 
 less excellent. The Romanists here are chiefly French 
 Creoles, a very respectable set of people, who are 
 mostly neutral in the war, which accounts for their 
 being in town. It is saddening to go through this 
 town, formerly a flourishing place, but now half burnt, 
 with great black ruins standing everywhere, and often 
 a house with a huge hole in its walls or roof where 
 some shell or ball has made its way. The grass act- 
 ually growing in the middle of the street, and the 
 stores are all closed with few exceptions. The people 
 creep about as if half scared to death. I am thank- 
 ful that most of my friends are in a land of peace, and 
 do not live in daily fear of their lives and property. 
 People at the North can not begin to understand the 
 reality of this war, but at the South it is brought 
 home to them with terrible reality. Provisions of all 
 kinds are scarce and high. Flour can not be had at 
 any price. Crowds of people come into the camp, 
 
48 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 anxious to buy anything, often giving gold and silver 
 rather than go away empty. Salt, so cheap at the 
 North, brings fabulous prices. Lard and butter a 
 dollar a pound ; sugar, the cheapest, is fifteen cents a 
 pound, &c. There is no milk or eggs, or salt meat, 
 tea or coffee, in fact nothing but sweet potatoes and 
 corn-meal, and they are high for this region. The 
 only thing that is low is the " Contrabands," these are 
 plenty at a low figure — our camp is full of them. 
 They swarm in, whole plantations of them at a time. 
 They are turned over to the Provost Marshall, who 
 sets them at work. All teams, or horses (most miserable 
 beasts the whole of them) are confiscated in the same 
 way and set to work, so that much hard work is taken 
 from the soldiers. 
 
 Perhaps you would like to learn my movements 
 since my last letter which was written on the way up 
 the river. I have hardly room to give you the out- 
 lines at present. Perhaps sometime I shall get home 
 to tell you more. We reached N. 0. on Sunday eve., 
 Dec. 17th, and lay there without disembarking through 
 Monday, during which time we ate oranges enough 
 to make up for our long abstinence on the voyage. 
 Early Tuesday noon we set sail for " up the river," 
 where, we did not precisely know, although it was 
 supposed to be this place, as it turned out. There 
 were five transports and four gun-boats on this expe- 
 dition. All went well until noon, when we were 
 startled by having our arms delivered to us, (they had 
 been kept in the boxes until now,) together with four 
 pounds of ammunition, and it was rumored that we 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 49 
 
 were to go into action within twenty-four hours, much 
 to the dissatisfaction of many who knew nothing about 
 the use of the musket. We went immediately to 
 drilling, but nothing happened until night, when we 
 were ordered to sleep on our arms for an alarm. I 
 turned in on deck as usual, but about half-past nine 
 was routed out, the sailors clearing away the boat un- 
 der which I slept, ready to land the troops, and it was 
 said we were to land and capture some rebel batteries 
 up the river a few miles. After that we went on 
 slowly " feeling" our way, with two gunboats in ad- 
 vance, one about the middle of the line and one in 
 the rear, expecting to be fired upon every minute. 
 After keeping awake about an hour I became sleepy 
 and went below and slept till morning as calmly as if 
 at home. We reached Baton Rouge where we found 
 the U. S. frigate Mississippi and the iron-clad gunboat 
 Essex, a queer looking craft, which, if I have time, I 
 will sketch for you. The town was in possession of 
 the rebels. We dropped anchor in the stream and 
 the Essex drew along shore and commenced shelling 
 the place. After about twenty shots the enemy ske- 
 daddled to Port Hudson, about twenty miles above, 
 where it is said there are fifteen thousand rebels, where 
 probably, the right general guide will see his first 
 battle. We soon after landed and encamped. Our 
 camp life I will describe to you soon. 
 
 I have written to no one thus far, but to you, and it 
 will not do ; yet I wish you to hear as often as possi- 
 ble, and write to the girls, and Henry, and Aunt Susan, 
 and others at the same time, which I can not do ; so I 
 5 
 
50 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 would like you to send my letters and direct them to 
 send mine to you. I will then write to each in turn. 
 So for the present one letter must do for all — and will 
 you write to me and tell the others to write as often 
 as possible and a Httle oftener, even if I do not write 
 to them, for it is harder work than they imagine. I 
 send you some rose-buds from the Court House yard, 
 picked to-day, Dec. 25th, mid-winter. Will you send 
 one to the girls ? My love to all, and be assured of 
 my earnest regard and constant remembrance your- 
 self. The colonel sends his regards. 
 
 Your loving son, 
 
 D. P. Dewey. 
 
 Baton Rouge, Jan. 14th. 
 Dear Mother : 
 
 I can not send a letter home without a few lines to 
 you, especially as your letter which arrived yesterday 
 reveals the fact that you are anxious about me. So I 
 must seize this chance to assure you that I am in 
 splendid condition physically and have been so, ever 
 since I left the North. Camp life does not wear upon 
 me scarcely at all and in fact, not half so much as my 
 summer expedition did. Everything is regular, which 
 is a great deal for me. There is a set time for drill- 
 ing, resting, eating and sleeping. Food is plain and 
 plentiful. I have gained some ten pounds of weight. 
 I am not exposed to work or to weather as I have 
 been^ and the colds, rheumatisms, fevers and other ail- 
 ments which have siezed others, have left me un- 
 harmed. Excepting the separation from home I could 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 51 
 
 not well be more contented and jolly ; not that we 
 have an easy time by any means, far from it, by wliat 
 you will see I have written Fannie, but hard work is 
 not so hard when you know just what you have to do 
 and bow to do it and have regular, invariable rests. 
 Occasionally, that is when our turn comes, the com- 
 pany go out on picket duty, when we take our sleep- 
 ing arrangements and rations and march out to the 
 picket post, generally one or two miles from the main 
 camp — we go in the morning and remain twenty-four 
 hours. The main company is posted as a reserve, 
 usually at some deserted house or sheltered spot. 
 Advance post, or the real pickets are then posted some 
 distance in advance, two or three together, the posts 
 being in calhng distance of each other. One of these 
 pickets must be always awake and watching. Half of 
 the reserve have also to be on their feet ; in case of 
 an attack these pickets fall back to the reserve and 
 the reserve to the camp, keeping the enemy in check 
 till the line of battle can be formed. So you see what 
 it means when you read that the pickets were driven 
 in. When we are on picket duty we usually spend 
 our spare time in foraging, by which means we get 
 our sweet potatoes, sugar and molasses, &c. At our 
 last post the chief spoil that we foraged was molasses 
 from an old deserted sugar factory, and pea-nuts, 
 which we dug in a field and roasted. So you see there 
 are some advantages in outpost duty. There is a 
 prospect of more very soon. We are under orders to 
 be ready for a march at any moment, and Gen. Banks' 
 expedition is expected up to review us in a few days. 
 
52 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 When we do fight, I most heartily hope we shall do 
 better than the reports that we get inform us they are 
 doing north of us. 
 
 But I have written more than I expected already. 
 I shall send this as far as N. Y. by Serg't Hubbell, 
 who has received a commission in the 21st Conn., and 
 is going home. So you will be sure to get it. 
 Good bye, 
 
 With much love, 
 
 D. 
 
 Baton Rouge, Jan. 14th. 
 Dear Fannie : 
 
 I received the first letter from home yesterday, be- 
 ing the second one Mother has sent me. The first has 
 not reached me yet, but I hope it will. I learned 
 from the second letter that you had left school, so that 
 I can not now write to you and Julie together ; so you 
 must send this to her wherever she is. The first part 
 of it was written about a mile from here, from which 
 place we moved the next Sunday, being ordered into 
 the town, as it was feared that the rebels were going 
 to attack us in great numbers. Some how or other 
 they manage to take our days of rest from us. We 
 moved out there New Year's day, back on Sunday, 
 and every Sunday there is almost as much work to do 
 as on any other day. Pretty busy times, I tell you. 
 I will tell you how we spend the day. The bugle 
 sounds at 5^ A. M., when we fall in under arms, and 
 form the regimental lines on the double quick, and 
 take our places behind an earthwork (which I helped 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 53 
 
 by the way, to make.) Here we have to stand till 
 daylight to be ready for an attack, which the rebels 
 are very fond of making just about that time. After 
 we get back from the ground we have breakfast, at 
 eight guard mounting, nine to ten, drill, eleven to 
 twelve, drill, half-past twelve, dinner, after dinner 
 we drill from two to four, dress parade at half-past 
 four, supper next. Tattoo with roll call at eight, 
 taps lights out, at nine. So we live every day, and it 
 keeps us pretty busy too and tired, so that writing or 
 reading time is scarce. Write often and a great deal. 
 Give my love to all ; Mother, the boys, Nap and 
 Kitty, Maggie, and all the rest. 
 Good bye. 
 
 From your brother, 
 
 D. 
 
 Dear Mother : 
 
 I received your last letter and Fannie's day before 
 yesterday, and although I was delighted to hear from 
 home, I was sorry to hear that you had been sick. 
 The last news, however, was encouraging and T hope 
 soon to hear of your complete recovery. I shall look 
 anxiously for the next mail. The papers came all 
 right, and for them I am infinitely obliged. They 
 remind us that there is such a place as H., and that 
 friends there are remembering us. Your first letter, 
 which you said you sent to Ship Island, I shall prob- 
 ably never see, and aunt Susan speaks of your send- 
 ing one with my card in it, that I have never re- 
 ceived. I suppose I must be satisfied if I get about 
 half that are sent, as that seems to be the case with 
 
54 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 most soldiers ; but it is rather hard ; I only hope mine 
 all get safely home. There have been great changes 
 in our officers lately. The lieut. col., major and sev- 
 eral lieutenants have resigned, and their resignations 
 were accepted. Captain Weld has received a nomin- 
 ation from the col. as lieut. colonel ; our Orderly, 
 Ward, is adjutant, Lieut. Norton is now captain, and 
 Waterman, 1st lieut. The 2d lieutenancy is vacant 
 and will probably be filled from another company, as 
 the col. talks of consolidating some of the small ones 
 and making only eight companies in the regiment. 
 
 Sunday, Feh. 1st. I went into town to-day for 
 the first time since New Year's day and was surprised 
 at the change. Many of the inhabitants have re- 
 turned, and the streets are quite gay, compared to 
 their appearance when we first arrived. The stores, 
 many of them, were open. We can buy anything 
 almost, from a spool of thread to a dictionary. The 
 price of things is perfectly astonishing. Quinine, so 
 necessary in this land of chills and fever is worth sev- 
 enteen dollars an ounce, outside the lines — more than 
 gold. So you see that there are some things more 
 precious than specie, and speaking of specie, it is 
 more plenty here, I imagine, than at the North. Some 
 of these old planters come into town, buy their flour 
 and salt and pay for them in silver half dollars. 
 Change is often given by the shopkeepers in silver and 
 once in a while, in gold. The suttlers get it all and 
 send it home on speculation ; so it does us poor coves, 
 no good. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 55 
 
 February 16th, 1868. 
 Dear Mother: 
 
 A mail came last night, bringing me a letter from 
 you, post marked, Jan. 26th, the long looked for Ship 
 Island letter, telling all about Christmas and affairs at 
 home, I was delighted to get it, but at the same 
 time it made me rather ^'homesick, as I imagined you 
 all in the little rooms, and wished I could have been 
 there for that day. I do not repent my enlistment at 
 all and would not go home now if I could get my dis- 
 charge, but that does not prevent my thinking of you 
 often, and with great desire to see you. 
 
 Yesterday, I think, was one of the most disagreea- 
 ble days I ever saw. The wind blew keen and cold 
 from the north and the sky was covered with grey 
 clouds. Here in this climate, such a day is felt more 
 keenly than at the north, where you have more uniform 
 weather. Now, to-day, the sky is clear and the sun 
 is warm and pleasant as in June ; in fact it is a glori- 
 ous day ; a day to drive away the blues from the 
 bluest hypocondriac. The birds are hopping about 
 and singing, and the soldiers are all out of doors thaw- 
 ing out from yesterday's freeze. Such days it is fun 
 to be a ;oldier. I lie here in the sun, my pencil in 
 hand, enjoying life a great deal better than many well 
 housed people that I know. After all there is a free- 
 dom from responsibility about a soldier's life that makes 
 it one of the most contented lives in the world. Every 
 one knows just what he has to do, and how to do it. 
 When it is done he has little else to think of; none of 
 the cares and anxieties of life to trouble him and 
 somebody to take care of him, besides. 
 
56 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 I was interrupted here by a drill call and have been 
 unable to resume until now, (evening.) I am acting 
 as orderly, all the other sergeants being on the sick list 
 except myself and one other who has charge of the 
 rations. I have been promoted to be second sergeant. 
 Sergeant Goodwin is orderly. It may cause some ill 
 feeling, but it was none of my doings. I do not feel 
 that I ought to decline any advancement, as I started 
 below my level, and am only working up to it. So 
 let things work. I have a bet that I'll come home 
 with shoulder straps and I fancy I shall win it. To- 
 morrow I go on guard for the first time since leaving 
 Hartford. I have resigned my position as right gene- 
 ral guide. Another mail came this afternoon, which 
 makes two in two days ; something of a wonder, &c. 
 
 February 18th. 
 You see from the patched up style of this epistle, 
 how busy I am. I have to improve every five min- 
 utes, and precious few of them do I get. But to-day 
 I am on guard and have plenty of spare time, so that 
 I think I can finish without interruption. Each mail 
 brings a greater or a smaller number of illustrated 
 newspapers which are generally circulated, and some 
 of the pictures are remarkably correct, especially those 
 in Frank Leslie's. He has a very good representa- 
 tion of our landing here. There was another in 
 Harper evidently made out of the whole cloth and 
 having no resemblance to the truth. I think that 
 Frank Leslie really has an artist with the expedition, 
 and will probably give true pictures of events which 
 
. DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 57 
 
 transpire here. To-day is pay-clay with the 13th 
 Conn., and it is amusing to see the soldiers in posses- 
 sion of their money. They are as pleased as children 
 with a picture book. The sutlers are crowded and 
 oranges, gingerbread and cider are rapidly disappear- 
 ing. In a day or two it will be our turn, and then I 
 expect to see still greater rejoicing, as it will be the 
 first time with us. When I get my pay I think I shall 
 go in town and have one Christian-like meal at a table 
 with a knife and fork, as they say there are restau- 
 rants open where you can get such things. I shall go 
 and see any way. You ask me various questions in 
 regard to the contrabands, some of which it would be 
 hard to answer, but I will tell you what 1 think of 
 them as near as I can. In the first j)lace, I never saw 
 so many before in my life — real, genuine, black, field 
 negroes. The streets, houses, camps, levees, every 
 place swarms with them. They come in in crowds 
 every day, and are taken in charge by the authorities, 
 and are set at work. At first they work well, under 
 the novelty of their new position ; but after a while 
 their true character appears. They become careless 
 and lazy, caring more for their bacon and dances and 
 sleep, than for labor or any attempt at self-improve- 
 ment. Then the old influence of fear has to be brought 
 to bear upon them and rough language, and threats 
 are more potent than reason or persuasion. But this 
 is not " work for wages," as the only pay they get is 
 their food and lodging. The only paid labor is done 
 by the women in the shape of washing, and I am sorry 
 to say I know of several instances where clothes sent 
 
58 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 to the wash were never returned. As soldiers they 
 
 do very well, as they manage their arms well and are 
 
 obedient ; but I imagine that even in this walk of life 
 
 their obedience is due to fear and habit, rather than 
 
 to any prompt sense of duty or self-respect, &c. 
 
 * * * * * * * 
 
 You ask me if I feel like re-enlisting when T get 
 back. I really can not tell anything about it. We 
 have not I suppose, seen the worst phase of soldier- 
 ing, namely, the fighting part. After a few battles I 
 may have enough of it, although at present I am in- 
 clined to see the war out ; yet I must confess that I 
 have not quite as much faith in the ultimate success 
 as I did have ; every thing seems slow and undeter- 
 mined, no activity, no life. But I don't know prob- 
 ably as much as those in command and they are doing 
 what seems best to them. Well, I should think I had 
 written enough for one letter, although as you say, I 
 could write and write and never stop. But I must 
 close sometime as my odds and ends of paper have 
 been used up ; I think I will not commence another 
 sheet. I am in excellent health, have grown so stout 
 that I can not button my vest. 
 
 With much love to you and all, 
 
 Your Son, 
 
 D. 
 
 Baton Rouge, 
 
 Tuesday, Feb. 17th, 1863. 
 Dear Sister : 
 
 Your note with the package came all right and 
 reached me a few days ago, and I suppose it is need- 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 59 
 
 less to tell you that I enjoyed them hugely. Sardines 
 are always acceptable, and tobacco is now one of the 
 greatest comforts I have. I fill my pipe and lie down 
 on my back and think of home and picture all dear 
 faces in the smoke — and then too, on a cold night on 
 picket duty away in the lonely woods without any 
 fire, a pipe is a great companion. But I suppose you 
 will turn up your precious little nose at the idea, and 
 so I will say no more about it. 
 
 I shall put you to shame when I come home, when 
 you see how well I can wash and cook and sew. We 
 are obliged to wash all our under clothing once a week 
 and I have attained such a proficiency that I shall 
 compete with the professional washerwoman soon — and 
 as to sewing why, I sewed a new chevron on one of 
 my sleeves the other day a great deal better than the 
 old ones were. But I give up one thing to its proper 
 owners and that is darning stockings. I darned mine 
 yesterday and before I got through I " darned" them 
 " out loud" and they were the " darnedest" looking 
 stockings you ever did see, when I finished them. 
 
 February 20th. 
 Your letter mailed Feb. 3d, and two of Mother's 
 mailed Jan. 25th and 28th, came this morning with 
 one from Mr. Ashe, all which I was delighted to re- 
 ceive. I fear some mails have been lost as I can not 
 account for some letters which I know have been sent* 
 However^ I suppose I ought to be contented to hear 
 from you at all away down here in this barbarous 
 country. Tell Maggie that I often have " chills," es- 
 
60 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 peciallj at sight of nervous young ladies. I have 
 had four " attacks" of spiders, seven of " caterpillars," 
 and fifteen of " mice ;" and besides I have contracted 
 a new disease peculiar to the country, called the " liz- 
 ards." There are lots of them here. Little green 
 and brown and spotted fellows. They look like small 
 alligators ; I have a little mottled fellow that sleeps 
 in my vest pocket every night and eats out of my 
 plate ; I am going to bring him home when I come, 
 for I have giown so fond of him that I can not bear 
 the idea of separation ! 
 
 ****** 
 
 You say that Annie did not send her love to me, 
 nor anything ; now I shall immediately proceed to 
 heap coals of fire on her head by sending her my very 
 best regards. Be sure to give them to her. They 
 cost a good deal down here. 
 
 In great haste, but with much love, to all. 
 Your brother, 
 
 D. P. Dewey. 
 
 After acknowledging the receipt of a pack- 
 age from his mother, and saying to her, " I al- 
 most cried when I opened it and saw how well 
 you were caring for me, away off here," he 
 begs to hear " anything" from his college com- 
 panions, he writes under date of Feb. 23d, at 
 Camp Grover, Baton Rouge, to his mother, to 
 whom his thoughts and affections so constantly 
 turn . 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 61 
 
 " It is a long time since I have written, but I have 
 been so busy that I have hardly had time to take my 
 meals, and you know I must be very much occupied 
 when I don't do that. Sergeant Goodwin, our or- 
 derly, has been unwell for sometime and his duties 
 fell upon me as second sergeant. That was enough 
 for one man, but in addition Lieutenant Waterman, 
 the only commissioned officer in the company, was 
 taken sick two days ago, since which time I have had 
 command of the company. You should see with what 
 dignity and style I conduct myself. I have all the 
 drilling to do at dress-parade. 1 don the orderly's 
 sash and sword and with brightly polished boots and 
 spotless white gloves I march Company A, the best 
 company in the regiment, out into lines, issue orders, 
 present arms with my sword and conduct myself gen- 
 erally with all the dignity of a pair of shoulder straps. 
 However, it gives me so much to do that I have little 
 time to write, and little inclination when I have time. 
 I should not be writing to-day but that we have a holi- 
 day given us to celebrate Washington's birthday, 
 which occurred yesterday, (Sunday,) when we had an 
 assemblage at head-quarters, and where we had a sort 
 of rostrum made of drums, draped in the flag, and 
 stacks of arms on each side, with the colors of the 
 different regiments placed upon them. The services 
 consisted of singing, prayers, an address from Chap- 
 lain Oviatt of our regiment, and music by the Thir- 
 teenth Connecticut band. Altogether it was a very 
 interesting service. To-day, all drill and other duties 
 6 
 
62 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 are suspended and games of ball, quoits and other 
 amusements are occupying the men. In other brig- 
 ades I understand that celebrations are going on in a 
 more extensive style, but I could not leave to attend 
 them. Hang the having so much responsibility ! It 
 keeps me tied up like a slave. In old times when " I 
 did not want to," I " wouldn't," but now I have to do 
 it whether I will or no. Well, I suppose I shall enjoy 
 personal liberty all the more in consequence, that is, 
 when I get it. You must expect to see excessive lazi- 
 ness for a little while after I come home. How jolly 
 it will be to go into a house with carpets and chairs 
 and pictures and a piano and to sit down at a table in 
 a chair, a real chair, with a table-cloth and plates and 
 knives and forks and glass and all the accoutrements 
 of civilization. Why, I shall be so awkward that 1 
 shall be hardly able to satisfy my hunger. I shall 
 expect the whole family to fall into line and march 
 into the kitchen, when the cook will give them their 
 rations, and each one will sit down " tailor fashion," 
 on the floor, with his plate before him and in such wise 
 eat his dinner, and when it is over each one must take 
 his own dishes, wash them and put them away in their 
 proper place. And at night I shall want to spread 
 my blanket on the floor, wiap my overcoat about me 
 and compose myself to sleep, expecting to be roused 
 at midnight by the '' long roll," or in the morning by 
 the "reveille." I shall pay no attention to the bell at 
 all, but shall have to hire a drummer to beat his toc- 
 ein in the hall. I wish I could drop in upon you to- 
 night, unexpectedly. What a .time there would be ! 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 63 
 
 just imagine it. ^o^Yever, it will not do for me to 
 dwell too much on such topics, for it is in every way 
 desirable that I should keep up my spirits ; so good 
 bye. I must be ready for dress parade. 
 
 February 25th. 
 Dear Mother : 
 
 Another mail yesterday, bringing one or two pa- 
 pers ; one illustrated from Fannie, for which I thank 
 her very much. I am sure more letters are written 
 and sent than I receive. Great care should be taken 
 that the address be written distinctly, especially the 
 25th, as we receive many letters directed to the 23d, 
 because of the similarity of the figures and no doubt 
 some of ours go to them. A mail is almost the only 
 excitement we have just now ; everything jogs along 
 as quietly as at college. The other day a rebel boat 
 came down from Port Hudson, bringing prisoners for 
 exchange, which amused us for a little while. The 
 secesh ladies turned out in force to cheer their brave 
 defenders as they went steaming up stream again. 
 Some of them said they would go and kiss them, rag- 
 ged and dirty as they were, if they only could. Poor 
 dears, how much they must want to kiss somebody ! I 
 have not seen one yet that was worth looking at, much 
 less kissing. Last night the pickets had a brush with 
 the enemy's cavalry, which came riding down upon 
 them. Only about twenty shots were fired, but no 
 harm done that I know of. The companies turned 
 out at the shots, but the "long roll" did not beat and 
 there was no general alarm. In a few minutes all 
 was quiet again. Except these little affairs nothing 
 
64 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 happens. Lieutenant Waterman is better, also Ser- 
 geant Goodwin ; so my duties are lighter. I have 
 been excused from drill this afternoon which gives me 
 a little leisure. My health continues good, surpris- 
 ingly so ; however my time may come, but I trust to 
 Providence to bring me safely back. Almost every- 
 body feels the change of climate more or less, but 
 the only really dangerous sickness is typhoid fever, 
 which is not as yet very prevalent. The autumn is 
 the most unhealthy season, but before that we shall 
 be home. So I hope if I don't get shot in battle I 
 shall see Hartford again in good condition. 
 
 All the boys* are well and send their love every 
 time, but I never think to put them in. So you can 
 imagine them there. Rice is in the hospital as as- 
 sistant steward, Taylor is adjutant's clerk. Hugg 
 has got to be corporal, with good prospects. Cook, 
 and Forbes, and AVoodbridge and the rest are natu- 
 ral as life, excepting whiskers, which have reached an 
 unnatural growth. My hair is wild and long, I don't 
 know whether you would know me or not. But 
 enough for the present. With much love to you all, 
 Your loving Son, 
 
 D. P. Dewey. 
 
 Camp Grover, Baton Rouge, 
 March 3d, '63. 
 Dear Mother: 
 
 I have been disappointed in not receiving a letter 
 from you by to-day's mail, although I did get a couple 
 
 * The squad of which he was the corporal. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 65 
 
 of papers, Vanity Fair and another, which mysteri- 
 ously disappeared before I had opened it, and of which 
 I have been unable to find a single trace. I laid it 
 down and as I was very busy did not look for it for 
 some time and when I did it was gone. I am sorry, 
 as they are all precious, but perhaps it will turn up 
 somewhere to morrow. I did receive a letter to-day, 
 which proved to be a miserable " sell."* I enclose it, 
 and please keep it as a curiosity. Idon't know who 
 sent it, but I think I can guess pretty near and if my 
 suspicion is right wont I be even with them some time ! 
 
 Perhaps you wonder why I am writing with ink, 
 contrary to my usual custom, but the fact is I've risen 
 above pencils. I'm sitting at a table with all writing 
 conveniences, before me and a fire at my back. I 
 don't live where I used to, I've moved, I've changed 
 my boarding place, I live with Lieut. Waterman, and 
 as I look over my shoulders I can see a pair of Sec- 
 ond Lieutenant's straps on them ; in short, I have 
 been promoted again, have received a commission, and 
 the next time you write you may change Sergeant to 
 Lieutenant, &c. 
 
 Please send me by Adams' Express a copy of " Ca- 
 sey's Infantry Tactics," a work of three volumes, and 
 a package of paper and envelopes. I think I shall 
 get it, as the Express Company have an oifice here, 
 and our brigade will probably not move in the coming 
 advance, but will remain to hold the place, so we shall 
 stay here some time. 
 
 Several days ago your letter came, also one enclos- 
 
 * A valentine. 
 
 6* 
 
66 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 ing Tom's. How much he improves in composition. 
 I was surprised to see what a difference there was be- 
 tween his last letter and his first. I have heard from 
 Ashe also ; the first letter from college. I am glad to 
 hear that Henry is improving in health. But I am 
 anxious on your account ; almost every letter indicates 
 in some way that you are not in good health, at least 
 not in good spirits. I am afraid that you are worried 
 and anxious about something. I hope it is not about 
 me ; if it is Mother, set your heart at rest, for I am 
 doing as well every way as I could wish. With the ex- 
 ception of the unavoidable effect of a new climate, my 
 health is as good if not better than it ever was before, 
 and as for position, it is constantly improving. So, 
 except the separation from home, I do not see how my 
 situation could be improved. 
 
 If you move by July 1st, I expect you will be 
 nearly settled by the time I come home, which prob- 
 ably will not be before the middle of September. 
 There is so much confusion about the commence- 
 ment of our time that everything is uncertain. If we 
 were not mustered in till November 11th, our nine 
 months don't end till August 11th, and it will be some 
 time after that before we reach home. So don't be 
 impatient but take everything quietly and trust to 
 Providence to bring them out straight. Daily arri- 
 vals of troops and guns are occurring and gradually 
 a large force is being massed here. New gun-boats 
 are constantly arriving and a few days ago a hundred 
 heavy siege guns came up the river. P^verything in- 
 dicates an early movement in some direction. Per- 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 67 
 
 haps it may be to Mobile, but probably to Port Hudson. 
 Almost all the troops except our brigade have march- 
 ing orders. Our regiment, it is said, will remain here 
 to garrison the town. I am sorry, for I want to see 
 some of the fighting. The rebels are growing bolder, 
 their cavalry hangs around our picket lines and their 
 gun-boats come down the river occasionally to recon- 
 noitre. Perhaps they will try to drive us out, time 
 will show. 
 
 Col. Bissell and boys send regards. My love to all 
 and please tell them to write long letters and often. 
 With much love, your Son, 
 
 D. P. Dewey. 
 
 March 14th, 8 miles from Port Hudson. 
 
 Dear Mother : 
 
 We are on the move for the rebel strong hold, Port 
 Hudson. Our regiment received moving orders last 
 Monday eve., to be ready at a moment's notice. At 
 4 A. M., Tuesday, we started and marched about five 
 miles to a stream where a bridge had been destroyed 
 by the rebs, which we rebuilt and then waited for the 
 main column. Our company was sent off about a 
 mile across the country, with a detachment of cavalry, 
 to hold the wood lying nearly parallel to Port Hudson 
 road. Here we fared well and had an easy time. 
 Remained here, occasionally hearing and seeing the 
 rebel cavalry, but having no serious contention with 
 them till Friday night, when we were ordered to join 
 the regiment. By this time the troops in the region 
 
68 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 were in motion, north ; one column on the Port 
 Hudson road, another nearly as large on the Clinton 
 road. When we reached the bridge we found that 
 our own and the first and second brigades had gone 
 and we were ordered to follow as guards to the bag- 
 gage wagons. We went about three miles in the dark 
 and then camped down in a cornfield. No fires and 
 no tents, and hard tack to eat. We were on the march 
 again at six this morning. It is an oppressive day, 
 many have dropped out ; coats and blankets and knap- 
 sacks all packed, have been thrown away. I drank 
 rauddy water from a ditch by the roadside for the first 
 time. The last five days have been full of adventure 
 and at some fitting time I shall describe them more 
 fully. About noon we halted in another cornfield and 
 have been here ever since and will not start again 
 probably, till some time in the night, perhaps not till 
 morning; but before to-morrow night there will be one 
 of the hardest fought battles of the war at least com- 
 menced, if not finished. Once more we can hear the 
 heavy boom of cannon from the direction of the river, 
 where the gun-boats have probably engaged some of 
 the batteries. All the men are resting, but there is a 
 fierce struggle coming and in it it may be my lot to 
 fall. Well, I am ready if it be God's will. I have 
 a great longing to see you all once more, but it can 
 not be ; so I must sit here and make pencil and paper 
 speak for me, if indeed this ever reaches you. But 
 if I never come home again you must not grieve for 
 me but rather contemplate the glorious cause in which 
 I fell. I have every trust in a kind Providence and 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 69 
 
 whatever he orders we must all submit to. However, 
 my chances for life are as good as anybody's, a great 
 many more survive than fall. The other regiments 
 are falling in and I suppose we will in a few minutes. 
 Good bye, with much love to you all. 
 
 Your loving son, 
 
 D. P. Dewey. 
 
 March 16th, 1863. 
 Dear Mother : 
 
 I have a chance to send to town just now and 1 
 have only time to write you that I am perfectly well, 
 although we have all passed through great hardships 
 lately and are expecting a battle hourly. I have 
 another letter under way, which I will send at the first 
 opportunity. We have been traveling around the 
 country through sun and rain and dust and mud, for 
 the last week. Everything looks well for our cause. 
 We must soon have a fight or a retreat. If I have 
 another chance I will send a letter. With much love 
 to you and all. 
 
 Your affectionate son, 
 
 D. P. D. 
 
 Baton Rouge, March 16th, Wednesday. 
 
 Dear Mother : 
 
 Since I wrote you last we have seen busy and hard 
 times. A week ago to-day we struck tents and the 
 next morning at 4 o'clock we started with ten days' 
 rations, and blankets and overcoats, our regiment hav- 
 
70 A MEMORIAL OP 
 
 ing been ordered five miles up the river to rebuild a 
 bridge destroyed by the rebels; this we successfully 
 accomplished and the regiment lay there till Tuesday 
 last, being detached to guard another road. This pa- 
 per is from the blank book of a rebel schoolmistress, 
 which was confiscated, together with other articles, 
 among them some valuable maps. After leaving here 
 we marched about two miles and bivouaced for the 
 night in an open field, and the next day we marched 
 about five or six miles further and again camped in 
 the open fields. This march was very severe, the sun 
 being hot and the road dry. We halted about noon 
 and skirmishers, both cavalry and infantry, were 
 thrown forward, it being supposed that rebel fortifica- 
 tions were before us. But nothing verj' serious was 
 discovered. One of Gen. Banks' aids, Col. Clark, 
 was shot in the ankle and his horse killed and in fall- 
 ing he broke the leg of his rider. The rebel scouts 
 and our own exchanged shots, but nothing like an en- 
 gagement took jilace. Here we remained in suspense 
 all night. About sundown heavy firing was heard 
 in the distance in the direction of the river, from 
 which we were four or five miles distant. This con- 
 tinued all night, and about midnight we could see a 
 bright light gradually floating down stream, which we 
 took for a fire-raft sent down by the enemy against 
 our fleet. About 5 A. M. it blew up with a terrible 
 explosion, which shook the ground like an earthquake, 
 and then all was quiet. Late in the day it was said 
 that part of our fleet had succeeded in running the 
 rebel batteries, but that one of them, the Mississippi, 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 71 
 
 hail been fired by a red hot shot from tlie rebs and 
 had been abandoned and afterwards blown up. This 
 was only rumor and we don't know whether it is true 
 or not. Will you send me papers containing the ac- 
 count, as it is the only way we have of learning about 
 these things, for our leaders let us know as little as 
 possible. We waited the next day till noon in anx- 
 ious expectation of an order to move forward, but it 
 did not come and shortly after our troops began to 
 move back towards Baton Rouge and soon the whole 
 column was falling back. Everybody was disap- 
 pointed. We had expected to see the downfall of the 
 rebel stronghold, which had been the subject of our 
 thoughts ever since we came here, and there were 
 many sour looks and words of dissatisfaction. It had 
 a bad effect on the men and looked marvelously like 
 a retreat. But it seems it was all right ; it was only 
 a movement to cover others. Our marches before 
 this had been pretty hard, but they were perfect sport 
 compared with this. The march and the right fol- 
 lowing, (last night,) I confess I have not the power lo 
 describe. Soon after we started it commenced to rain 
 and soon poured torrents, accompanied by heavy thun- 
 der and vivid lightning. The road, before hard and 
 smooth, became ankle deep with mud and water, 
 overcoats and blankets became wet and heavy, knap- 
 sacks were soaked through and ammunition ruined, and 
 guns and cartridge boxes thiown away, and hundreds 
 of men fell out by the way, unable to bear it. From 
 our company, however, no one straggled, nor do I 
 know of a single gun being thrown away in the regi- 
 
?2 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 ment. I am well satisfied with the 25th, especially 
 with Company A. So we marched till nearly dark, 
 when we halted and filed into another muddy lot and 
 stacked arras for the night, and a dismal prospect 
 it was. No place to sleep and mud and water to stand 
 in, the rain continuing to pour down in sheets. Around 
 this field there was a fence six feet high. In ten 
 minutes there was not a sign of a fence. Soon we 
 had a huge fire blazing, which was some comfort to 
 us. Around this we stood and ^at and waited for 
 morning. Some too tired to set up lay down in the 
 mud, or on rails, or whatever they could find. As for 
 myself I sat down on a rail and with my head on my 
 knees would sleep till chilled through and then go to 
 the fire and get warm. Thus sitting and standing in 
 the deep mud and soaked to the skin, we spent the 
 night. Our quarter-master* rode into town and back, 
 sixteen miles, to get us coffee and sugar, which helped 
 us somewhat. About ten it stopped raining except in 
 little showers, but altogether we had a most dismal 
 time. 
 
 This morning we are gradually drying out and re- 
 covering our spirits. The sun has come out and every- 
 thing is prosperous. We shall probably march soon, 
 but whether back into town or somewhere else no one 
 knows. 
 
 Tuesday, March 17th. 
 
 Again we have moved. About 3 P. M. yesterday 
 we packed up and leaving our mud-hole by as hot a 
 march as ever I wish to see, reached our present po- 
 sition which is a short distance west of our old one. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 73 
 
 and the change is marvellous. A more beautiful spot 
 I have seldom seen. Our whole regiment and the 
 second are encamped in a large and comparatively dry- 
 field on the river bank ; water and wood are plenty. 
 The air is dry and warm and the view up and down 
 the river is magnificent. We have plenty of fresh 
 meat, and provisions have come out from town. All 
 the men are in capital spirits, everything looks well. 
 Such is a soldier's life. One day in the greatest 
 misery and the next in the tallest kind of clover. 
 One day nearly starved and the next living like 
 princes. We should not enjoy the smooth of this life 
 if it was not for an occasional rough place. I shall 
 endeavor to send this to Baton Rouge to-day. I 
 received your last with papers. I have just a chance 
 to send my letter. Good bye. All's well. 
 Yours, with love, 
 
 D. P. D. 
 
 Baton Rouge, March 24th. 
 Dear Mother: 
 
 Well, here we are back again on our old company 
 ground, with no fighting done yet. Monday afternoon 
 orders came to the division to fall back and they did, 
 and here we are. They say that great ends have been 
 accomplished by our late movement, (reconnoisance, 
 they call it,) and it may be so, but I think it is bad 
 policy to say the least, to disappoint men so, and I 
 don't believe Gen. Banks will ever have an army so 
 ready and so willing to fight again ; nevertheless, if 
 our force was not large enough to take Port Hudson, 
 7 
 
74 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 it was undoubtedly better to fall back than to attempt 
 the matter and to lose after all. But we are soldiers ; 
 we only receive orders and obey them unquestioningly. 
 I am willing to trust our general still and believe that 
 all will come right in the end. 
 
 Now about the march back on the said Monday 
 morning. When we were encamped by the river and 
 before I knew anything about moving, I obtained 
 leave to go into town, some seven miles. So after 
 much trouble I procured a " skittish" little pony and 
 proceeded to exhibit my equestrian ability to the ad- 
 miring multitudes, succeeding so admirably that I only 
 got thrown once. But my pluck was good and I 
 made good time into town. Having transacted my 
 business I started again for camp, but no sooner had I 
 left the city than I was surprised to see all the road 
 full of troops and baggage wagons, all on the march 
 for town. This was the first intimation I had of the 
 movement. As I saw no signs of Grover's Division, 
 (the fourth,) I kept on, but went no farther than the 
 bridge, the one previously built by our regiment, for 
 which by the way we received the greatest commenda- 
 tion from General Banks. This was about five miles 
 from town and here I learned that our division was 
 coming, so I waited for them. I wish you could have 
 stood by my side on the little hill where I was and 
 seen the troops go by, you would have some idea of 
 an army on the march. I will describe it as well as 
 I can. 
 
 First came a detachment of cavalry, clanking and clat- 
 tering along ; a cavalryman in his full equipment makes 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 75 
 
 as much noise as a small truck wagon. Then Gen. Gro- 
 ver's Staff and red flag with a 4 upon it, the number of 
 his division. After him another body of cavalry. Then 
 the artillery of the 13th regiment. As they reached the 
 top of the hill on the hither side of the bridge the 
 bugle sounded "halt." Now the first ammunition 
 wagon starts slowly down the hill, gradually growing 
 faster and faster till it thunders over the bridge and 
 up the hill on the other side, horses on the dead run. 
 Next comes the first gun, then the next ammunition 
 wagon and next gun, and so on till all the six guns 
 of the battery have passed. They are followed by 
 the brigadier and his staff, with a white and blue 
 flag and the number of his brigade upon it. Then 
 comes the infantry plodding and toiling along, caps 
 thrown back to catch every breath of wind on 
 their brows ; some have taken off their shoes and 
 are going with bare feet, some have rolled up their 
 pants — anything to be cool. Occasionally one tired 
 out by the pull up the hill drops out, and seating him- 
 self by the roadside, looks sorrowfully at his compan- 
 ions heedlessly tramping by him. Along with these, 
 contrabands and servants of all kinds, this officer's 
 baggage or that man's knapsack, altogether it has 
 rather a disorderly appearance, and so three or four 
 regiments pass along and are followed by the second 
 brigade in the same order, cavalry, artillery, infantry, 
 and lastly the third brigade comes up and T join the 
 company again, having willingly given up my steed to 
 his owner. But before leaving the march you must 
 fill up the picture by imagining a long line of white 
 
76 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 canvass covered baggage wagons with noisy and pro- 
 fane drivers in front of the division, and another Hne 
 of ambulances in the rear to pick up all the stragglers. 
 And so this snake-like procession moves slowly along, 
 and the rattling of wagons, the curses of drivers, the 
 clatter of cavalry, and the thunder of artillery, the 
 issuing of orders and the shouts, songs and laughter 
 of the men, make up rather a stirring scene. This 
 may give you some idea of it, but it must be seen to 
 be appreciated. My first inquiry on reaching the 
 25th was about my baggage which was left at camp. 
 It had been packed and placed upon a steamboat to 
 go to Baton Rouge by water, so I supposed it must be 
 safe, but alas ! I have seen nothing of it and I don't 
 believe I shall. I have lost overcoat, rubber blanket, 
 stockings, dishes, everything I took with me on the 
 march except my sword, which has since made its ap- 
 pearance, for which I am very thankful as it was only 
 borrowed. I am troubled exceedingly to know where 
 to get one as I have tried everywhere in vain. 
 
 March 27th. 
 To-day we start for the south part of the state to 
 assist General Weitzel. We are all packing up and 
 have orders to start immediately. 
 
 ****** 
 I have my own packing to attend to, so I must be 
 brief. My love to all, and be assured of my continued 
 
 affection. 
 
 Your loving son, 
 
 D. F. Dewey. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 77 
 
 DoNALDSONViLLE, March 30th, 1863. 
 Dear Mother : 
 
 We have changed our position to this place, fifty 
 miles below Baton Rouge, on the west side of the 
 river. We shall probably leave for the interior to- 
 night or to-morrow morning. Our next stopping place 
 will probably be Thebodeaux on the Atchafalaya, a 
 river ; wherever it is I will write you when we reach 
 there. Letters and papers directed as before to Don- 
 aldson\ille, which is one of the chief towns in Louis- 
 iana, but it is a mean looking place at the best. The 
 houses are all small and poor, the stores mere huck- 
 ster's stalls. The inhabitants are mostly French, the 
 slaves fewer than I have seen in any place I have 
 seen yet ; in fact, the sooner we are out of it the bet- 
 ter I shall like it. The place is fortified by a small 
 earthwork called Fort Butler. There was a battle 
 here last year as perhaps you may remember. There 
 is one redeeming point about it and that is it has some 
 pretty girls within its borders. I saw a young lady 
 yesterday, for the first time since I left the North, who 
 really excited my admiration. 
 
 It is rather cool to-day for this climate ; a " Norther" 
 is sweeping over the country, and the clouds look as 
 if the next march would be in the wet. I hope not, 
 although I've no objections to cooler weather. The 
 boat leaves in a few minutes, so I have only time for thi» 
 hasty letter. I will do better next time. Love to all. 
 You^ loving son, 
 
 D. P. Dewey. 
 
78 A MEMOEIAL OF 
 
 Bayou Boeuf., La., April 3d. 
 Dear Mother : 
 
 At length we have brought up for a short time 
 away here in the central part of the state, after a 
 march of three clays and a night in the cars. I am 
 surprised at the country we are in ; I had looked upon 
 it in imagination as almost a wilderness, but instead it 
 is the garden of Louisiana. The best and the largest 
 plantations, both cotton and sugar, are here. The 
 country is cut up by innumerable bayous and lakes, 
 which are many of them navigable to the largest ves- 
 sels. The vegetation is the most luxuriant I ever 
 saw. The woods are dense and filled with all manner 
 of trees and shrubs, creepers and climbers. The 
 swamps are the most impassable looking arrangements 
 imaginable. No wonder runaway slaves take to them, 
 the most expert hunter could hardly find them. The 
 water is still and black with stumps and logs decaying 
 in it. Li summer weather some of these logs prove to 
 be aUigators. The trees are tall and dark and covered 
 with pendant moss, giving them a most ghost-like ap- 
 pearance. In clumps below are all manner of rank, 
 large, broad-leaved, brilliant flowered plants. The 
 greatest stillness and darkness hang over everything. 
 The best word to describe it is " pokerisb." Plowcver, 
 like all other things, it must be seen to be appreciated, 
 and perhaps some day you may take a fancy to travel 
 this way and then you can judge for yourself We 
 have done some grand marching. We were three 
 days on the road. On the first we started from Don- 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 79 
 
 aldsonville, our direction being westward up the Bayou 
 Lafouiche. The day was fortunately cool, but the 
 men I think suffered more this day than all the rest. 
 Our marching was rapid, and the road a hard baked 
 clay with no spring in it, which used up our feet woe- 
 fully, and great was the rejoicing when we halted and 
 went into camp, about half-past one. Then followed 
 the scene which always follows the halting of an army. 
 The ranks are broken and the arms are stacked, when 
 numerous gallant defenders of their country's rights 
 strike a double quick for the nearest fence and soon are 
 seen returning with what used to be a fence but is now 
 transformed into wonderfully good fire-wood or elas- 
 tic couches for the aforesaid gallant defenders. At 
 the same time numerous squeals in the adjacent field 
 announce the demise of sundry innocent porkers, or a 
 shot or two tell of fresh beef for the morrow. Con- 
 trabands may be seen coming in with a chicken in one 
 hand and corn bread or some other edible in the other. 
 On the night in question, a flock of sheep came trot- 
 ting innocently into camp with wonder depicted on 
 their countenances, which expression soon changed to 
 terror as they scattered in all directions, pursued by 
 sticks and stones and bayonets and shouting heroes. 
 In less than five minutes there was not a single sheep 
 alive. Company A secured two and mutton was our 
 breakfast next morning. Soon fires are blazing m all 
 directions, black camp kettles are hung and coffee 
 made. Some of the men go for water, othei^> uuild 
 their shelters for the night, while slowly limping along 
 the stragglers come in and sink down wearily into 
 their places. Guards are soon mounted and order 
 
80 A MEMORIAL OP 
 
 reigns again. This night I was officer of the guard, 
 tired and weary as I was, and to add to my afflictions 
 an ugly mule hit me a kick in the hip as I was pass- 
 ing him. I dare say I thought something wicked 
 though I did not say it. Our camp was at a small 
 village, the only name for which that I could discover 
 was " Church." A church being such a rare institu- 
 tion in this heathen land as to serve for a landmark. 
 We started next morning about half-past seven and 
 marched about the same distance as before, passing 
 through the village of Napoleonville and camping 
 about a mile east of another town called Labordier- 
 ville, near which our forces had a brush last year 
 with the enemy. Several balls and shells were found 
 on the ground. I was obliged to ride the last two 
 miles on account of my hip which was rather lame. 
 The next day we were on the march at sunrise, our 
 brigade having the advance, and expecting to go to 
 Thebodauxville and there camp ; but we reached the 
 place, the most enterprising place I have seen, marched 
 through it and about five miles beyond, and I assure 
 you these were five long miles. We had made up 
 our minds that we were to stop at Thebodeaux, and 
 our courage flagged when we went beyond, especially 
 as we made a long stretch of five miles at a swinging 
 old pace. The 13th Connecticut has a tremendous 
 reputation for marching, but I think their stragglers 
 rather exceeded ours in number on that tramp. We 
 baited about half a mile beyond the railroad station 
 and prepared for the night, but we were not allowed 
 to escape so easily. Soon orders came to be ready to 
 move again and at nightfall we had trudged back to 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 81 
 
 the cars, loaded all our baggage, and then piled in 
 ourselves, some inside and some on the top, I occupy- 
 ing an outside seat to my intense disgust, as the cin- 
 ders flew enough to blind me. At nine the train, 
 the longest and heaviest I ever saw, started, and at 11 
 P. M. reached this place where we unloaded ourselves 
 and made our camp after a march of fifteen miles and 
 a ride of twenty-five. So here we are now under the 
 command of Gen. Weitzel, who left this place just be- 
 fore we arrived. The 12th Conn, is in his division, 
 and one company (A) of it was captured on board the 
 steamer Diana in a skirmish at Pattersonville, a short 
 distance from here on the Bayou. They were all 
 paroled and I have found an acquaintance amongst 
 them, Charles Sherman, formerly of the Courant 
 office. The rest of the 12th has gone with Gen. 
 Weitzel to Brashear city, about seven miles west of 
 here, where we may probably go next. We shall 
 probably be in this country sometime, and I do not 
 know that I object to it. A railroad runs direct to 
 Algiers, opposite New Orleans, so that mail and ex- 
 press connection is good. The country is rich and so 
 far as I can learn, healthful ; what do we want more ? 
 The 25th is all right; they have not had the terrible sick- 
 ness that you have heard of. Company A. is all right. 
 We may have a scrimmage as Weitzel is one of the 
 fighting sort. Please remember me to all my friends, 
 and when you write direct as before. With much love 
 to you and all. 
 
 Your affectionate son, 
 
 D. P. Dewey. 
 
82 A MEMORIAL OP 
 
 The following letter of Perkins, written only 
 ten days before his death, to a favorite little 
 cousin, breathes so much of the tenderness of 
 an elder brother, while at the same time we are 
 reminded of the sportiveness of boyhood, that 
 it must interest the reader. 
 
 Bayou Boeuf., La., April 4th, '63. 
 
 My dear little Cousin : 
 
 I have heard from you frequently but have not been 
 able to return the favor until now. We have lately 
 been marching and moving all around the country 
 and sleeping on the ground without tents at night, 
 some of them pretty cold nights, although the days 
 are hot as 'lection. But now we have our tents all 
 pitched again and it looks as if we should be here for 
 some time ; I hope so, for we all need rest. March- 
 ing through the hot sun, over dusty roads, with salt 
 pork and " hard tack" to eat and muddy water to 
 drink, is very good for a little while, but it soon " plays 
 out." 
 
 This is a beautiful country where we are now. The 
 woods are full of wild roses and all kinds of beautiful 
 flowers. Pretty little lizards of all colors play around 
 the stumps and logs. Sweet little snakes and big ones 
 too, come out to sun themselves or amuse themselves 
 by running races over your neck in the night. Cun- 
 ning little alligators live in all the swamps and listen 
 to the music of the fine-voiced musquitoes. I caught 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 83 
 
 three crabs the other day by holding my foot in the 
 water till they bit, when I threw them upon shore ! 
 You may believe this if you want to, but I should not 
 if I were you. 
 
 If I was in Hartford I would come down to New 
 Haven to-morrow and see you and bring you a lot of 
 
 nice things. We'd go and see Mrs. , and walk 
 
 home through Chapel street, or else as it's Sunday, 
 Easter Sunday, too, we would go to church and not 
 sit with the girls. But it's no use to talk so. Here I 
 am away down in the Louisiana lowlands, hundreds of 
 miles fiom my little Cousin Julia whom I shall not 
 see for a long time. You must send me one of your 
 photographs sure, so that I can see how you look. I 
 suppose you must have grown a great deal since I 
 left home. It seems a long while to me. 
 
 Now for a little serious talk with you. You must 
 be a good girl and learn all you can. By-and-by when 
 you get older, you will be glad if you do and sorry if 
 you don't. You must love your mother and my 
 mother and Fannie. I think a great deal more about 
 them now that I am separated from them and perhaps 
 I shall never see them again at all. You will soon be 
 old enough to be of use to them and you [must learn 
 all you can and be as useful as you can. 
 
 You ask me if I have any higher office. Well, 
 yes, I have gone a little higher, I'm Second Lieutenant 
 of Company A ; so when you write you must direct 
 to Lieut. Dewey and not to Sergeant Dewey. There 
 isn't any such man now, he is " played out." I expect 
 to be brigadier-general, or some such thing before I 
 
84 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 come home ; so you must get all fixed to give me a 
 grand reception. 
 
 Well, I have come to the end of my paper and 
 ideas, and there is nothing left but to send my love to 
 all the girls and a large share to yourself. 
 Good bye, 
 
 Your loving cousin, 
 
 D. P. Dewey. 
 
 Transport St. Mary, April 11th. 
 
 10 P. M. Dear Mother: 
 
 Again we are crowded, jammed, jostled and suffo- 
 cated on one of Uncle Sara's transports. For the last 
 three hours I have tossed and turned and suffered and 
 thought wicked, if I did not say it. In the top berth 
 in a close state room, breathing air second hand from 
 the lungs of a crowded cabin. I have given it up and 
 am beaten, and can not sleep, so I have retired to the 
 depths of a lower cabin and on the dining table by 
 the light of an oil lamp I am writing to you. I am 
 wet to the skin with perspiration. Fine condition I 
 shall be in for the fight we are going to have to-mor- 
 row. It is abominable the way they cram these trans- 
 ports. The St. Mary is a fine large steamship, but 
 just imagine it; there are four regiments squeezed 
 into her besides a battery of artillery and from fifty 
 to a hundred horses. We are lying off Brashear City 
 at the head of Berwick Bay, expecting soon to start 
 for up river somewhere to cut the retreat of the 
 rebels. A strong force will attack them in front. 
 They, the rebels, are at Pattersonville, where the 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 85 
 
 Diana was captured by them and strongly entrenched. 
 Heavy firing has been heard in that direction all day, 
 either the beginning of the fight or artillery practice. 
 I say this is the plan, which means that we all think 
 so, but I have been deceived so often in expectation 
 that in the future I will be certain of nothing till it is 
 over. We may accomplish no more on this trip than 
 we did at Port Hudson. Our movements are lament- 
 ably slow and the rebs find out everything before we 
 accomplish anything. However, Banks is in com- 
 mand and it won't do for him to remain inactive much 
 longer. So I think there is work for us somewhere. 
 Just as we were leaving camp to-day to embark, a train 
 came in from New Orleans, which brought us a mail 
 containing a letter from you and one from Fannie. I 
 wrote you last from Bayou Boeuf, which place we left 
 about ten on Wednesday the ninth, and a scorching 
 day it was. We marched in the middle of the day 
 some ten miles to Brashear City — a place by the way 
 not half as large as West Hartford ; and to the credit 
 of the 2.5th be it said, it had fewer men fall out than 
 any other regiment in the division. When I look at 
 this I am half a mind to tear it up, but you will allow 
 for circumstances. I am going to try to get a nap on 
 a neighboring lounge, so good night. 
 
 That " Good night" was for the last time ; 
 and if it is saddening to reflect upon the cir- 
 cumstances under which it was written, cir^ 
 cumstances which ive think ought to have been 
 seen and avoided, there is a consolation in 
 8 
 
86 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 knowing, in the instance of this young patriot 
 and Christian, that it was almost the last night 
 of " weariness and painfulness" that ever he 
 would be called to endure. The sands of his 
 glass were rapidly running out ; the liour was 
 coming to him on swift wings, 
 
 " When in the mansions of the blest 
 Death leaves to its eternal rest, 
 The weary soul." 
 
 The battle to which he was looking forward 
 " in the morning," at the time of his writing to 
 his mother on the 11th of April, did not take 
 place till the morning of tlie 14th. It was 
 some days after the event that tidings came of 
 a battle and a victory at Irish Bend, and while 
 the hearts of a multitude amongst us were wa- 
 vering most painfully between hope and fear, 
 for the dear friends whom they knew must have 
 been in the fatal strife, came the sad " List of 
 casualties," and amongst the first names of the 
 fallen stood the name of " Lieutenant D. P. 
 Dewey ! " The particulars of his heroic death 
 soon followed, and they might well constitute 
 a page in that history which hereafter shall 
 be written, — a page in which the young soldier 
 who went forth with the single thought of 
 " duty" as his watchword, until he stood face to 
 face with death in deadly conflict, unflinching, 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 87 
 
 firm, serene — might be placed side by side with 
 that which tells the story of the dying martyr, 
 who bowed before the stern king of terrors in 
 holy calmness and humility, rather than desert 
 the standard of his Christian faith ! 
 
 The first letter wliich brought the fatal news 
 that this brave young soldier had fallen, was 
 written to his parents by Lieut. Leander Water- 
 man, of his company. 
 
 It becomes my painful duty to communicate to you 
 the intehigence of your son's death. We embarked 
 on transports Saturday evening. Sunday we started 
 up Grand Lake, Monday lauded, went two or three 
 miles and lay on our arms on the ground that night. 
 Tuesday morning we fell in, just before daybreak, 
 went about a mile, when the five companies on the 
 right Aving of the regiment were ordered to deploy. 
 Company A had the right as usual ; in this way we 
 advanced quite a distance. When near the woods we 
 were fired upon ; we lay down, firing at the places 
 where we saw the smoke of the enemy. The right 
 (five companies) was a short distance behind. The 
 battery of the enemy opened upon the five companies 
 of the regiment in reserve. Li about half an hour 
 the regiment was ordered to advance. They passed 
 the line of skirmishers, and then Company A formed 
 on the right of the regiment. Before, while deployed, 
 we had the right of the skirmishers. We were the 
 most exposed of all. We had formed the right about 
 
88 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 five minutes when I was struck in the left arm near 
 the shoulder, the ball passing through the arm and 
 lodging in the side. I stayed until I was so faint I 
 could not support myself, and was then helped from 
 the field. In less than five minutes we were out- 
 flanked on the right and had to fall back. Lieutenant 
 Dewey was shot in the head, the ball striking the left 
 side just above the ear, and passing out at the fore- 
 head. He was left for a few 'moments on the field, 
 but as the enemy were driven back, (less than five 
 minutes,) I sent a stretcher and had him brought in. 
 He was found just as some of the men saw him fall. 
 He had not been molested by the enemy. He was 
 unconscious, moved his head and his hands for a short 
 time, and then died. I was not able to be about, but 
 I left him in the hands of good men. A coffin was 
 made for him, also one for Captain Hayden of Com- 
 pany C, who was shot through the head. They were 
 buried side by side, Wednesday morning, and the 
 place marked. ***** 
 
 He died a hero, the best could do no more. I trust 
 he now wears an immortal crown, which will never 
 fade. 
 
 Our regiment lost from eighty to ninety, killed and 
 wounded. 
 
 I am not able to write more now. I am at St. 
 John's hospital, doing well but weak. 
 Yours, with much sympathy, 
 
 Leander Waterman, 
 Lieut. Company A, 25th regiment. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 89 
 
 The following beautiful tribute to Lieutenant 
 Dewey's character is from the pen of his friend 
 Col. Ward.* 
 
 My friend Dewey joined Company A, 25th Regi- 
 ment Conn. Vols., on the 9lh of September, 1862. 
 His general acquirements and reliable character soon 
 marked him for advancement ; he was almost imme- 
 diately made a corporal, and subsequently, by the 
 personal selection of the colonel, right general guide 
 of the regiment with the rank of sergeant. 
 
 It was at this time my more intimate acquaintance 
 with him began. Our places in line and column were 
 very near each other ; we occupied the same tent and 
 sle{)t side by side. Long before we reached Louisiana 
 I had learned to love him, to honor his singularly 
 truthful nature, and to look with confident certainty 
 to the day when he should earn and receive his com- 
 mission. 
 
 When the regiment landed in the enemy's country 
 he volunteered to go on the first picket duty which 
 offered, and with a squad of picked men under his 
 command, held, through our first night of service, the 
 most advanced position of the whole army. 
 
 During our stay at Baton Rouge, his services as 
 regimental guide were of high order, his habits of out- 
 door exercise, and accuracy of eye, especially quali- 
 fying him ^br the position. 
 
 My promotion, in January, 1863, somewhat inter- 
 rupted the daily intercourse between us ; it was how- 
 
 * Formerly Adjutant of the 25th Regiment. 
 
 8* 
 
90 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 ever soon followed by his own lieutenancy, and seven 
 days before the regiment started on its first march 
 upon Port Hudson, I had the gratification of seeing on 
 his shoulders the straps which no one ever wore more 
 worthily. 
 
 From the 10th of March we were continuously in 
 the field, and his value as an officer was more and 
 more apparent. With the exception of a short illness 
 he was always on duty, and (as regimental adjutant 
 I have reason to know it) whenever a man of relia- 
 bility and quick intelligence was needed, his name 
 naturally suggested itself for the employment. 
 
 On the 13th of April, 1863, we landed on the west 
 coast of Grand Lake, and, the enemy being driven 
 before us, marched toward Irish Bend. I did not 
 see him during that march or in the night's bivouac ; 
 we next met under fire on the 14th. 
 
 This is not the place to attempt a description of the 
 battle of that day. Dewey's company was the first 
 engaged, his only superior officer soon wounded, and 
 this second lieutenant of scarcely a month's standing 
 was left in command of the flank company of the 
 whole brigade engaged. How nobly and bravely he 
 met the responsibihties of that hour his glorious death 
 bears witness. Standing unmoved in a rain of bul- 
 lets, he had a word of encouragement for every man 
 near him, kindly greeting for a friend and even a 
 merry quotation from a favorite song to fling after a 
 shell that went shrieking by. So I last saw him — so 
 I shall always remember him. 
 
 Were I asked what traits of Dewey's character 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 91 
 
 most impressed me, I should reply, his truthfulness 
 and evenness of temper. More quiet and sober in 
 his manner than most men — especially most soldiers 
 of his age, he varied less from day to day than any of 
 us. Easily gay, he was never boisterous ; quietly kind 
 he was never demonstrative. His habits of study 
 were an example to many older officers. His pro- 
 fessional knowledge great and rapidly growing ; few 
 gave greater promise of usefulness, no one is more 
 grieved for by all who knew him. 
 
 Henry C. Ward. 
 
 Letter from Adjutant Ward to Mr. and Mrs. 
 Dewey. 
 
 Bivouac of the 28th Regt. Conn. Vols., 
 Near Vekmillionsville, April 16, '63. 
 
 On the day the regiment left Hartford, you prob- 
 ably remember you spoke to me regarding the welfare 
 of your noble son. That conversation and the warm 
 love I have learned to feel for him seem to make it 
 ray province to write to you some account of his glo- 
 rious death, which I take occasion to do to-day ; the 
 first halt we have made in pursuit of the flying enemy 
 whom he gave his life to conquer. 
 
 Before receiving this you will probably have heard 
 of our victory and of his fall. The papers will have 
 told you all they could ; but an eye witness alone 
 could tell you the particulars of his bravery and dar- 
 ing, which your loss must make doubly important. 
 Early in the fight, Lieutenant Waterman being 
 wounded, your son succeeded to the command of Com- 
 
92 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 pany A. The whole regiment line was deployed as 
 skirmisliers, when the right flank was suddenly at- 
 tacked by two full regiments of the enemy, the 15th 
 Louisiana and a Texas regiment. It was at that 
 time that I saw your son, and the sight I never shall 
 forget. Waving his sword above his head, calling to 
 his men, " Remember you are Company A" — his whole 
 bearing so brave and heroic that it seemed almost im- 
 possible for any enemy to avoid marking him. He 
 was soon fatally struck and fell headlong amongst the 
 cane rows where he fought. This was about 7.50 
 on the morning of the 14th. He was, I think, en- 
 tirely insensible till his death, which was as well as 
 I could judge about one, P. M. I did not see him 
 from the time he was carried off the field till about 
 six in the afternoon, when I was able to leave the 
 regiment, but I gave him in charge to a most estima- 
 ble man, S. S. Folwell of Company A, and I found 
 that everything kind and considerate had been done 
 by him for my lost friend. His body had been washed 
 and decently prepared for interment. I could scarcely 
 believe he was more than asleep, his face was so calm 
 and beautiful, no rigidity, no contortion, but every- 
 thing at peace and rest. I kissed his cold lips and 
 never saw him again. We marched again that night, 
 but to-day Folwell has come up and given the particu- 
 lars of his interment. He was buried on the morning 
 of the 15th, on a little knoll sixty-five paces from and 
 behind an old sugar mill on the battle-field. He is in 
 the same grave with Captain Hay den, the former on 
 the right, your son on the left, as you stand at the 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 93 
 
 head of the grave. A head-board was placed above 
 them deeply cut. Nothing further could have been 
 done. What few valuables and relics that were about 
 him I have saved and they are in the hands of Lieu- 
 tenant Waterman in hospital at New Orleans. They 
 are principally his watch, a ring, a college society 
 badge* and some buttons from his vest. I enclose a 
 lock of his hair, which I cut myself from his head. 
 I don't see that I can tell you more. JNIy sorrow to 
 write this must bow before yours, when you receive it, 
 yet I must claim some little share in the loss you have 
 suffered ; some little pride that the hero who has gone, 
 while he was your son, he was my friend. 
 Yours, sincerely, 
 
 H. C. Ward, Adjutant. 
 
 This last letter, although written before the 
 tribute to Lieutenant Dewey's character, by 
 Colonel Ward, seemed so connected with this 
 which follows, that we place it next in order. 
 
 From Mr. Folwell. 
 
 Mrs. Dewey, Dear Madam: 
 
 Concerning the matter of which you spoke, I will 
 endeavor to mention some of the prominent charac- 
 teristics which drew me towards, and made me feel 
 interested in Lieutenant Dewey. He seemed earnest 
 in his avocation, and determined to excel as a soldier ; 
 
 *''B. .B." Trinity CoUege. 
 
9 J: A MEMORIAL OP 
 
 ready to do his duty, however disagreeable it might 
 be ; was pleasant and cheerful to all around him, 
 notwithstanding the many annoyances and aggrava- 
 tions which attend a soldier's life. Evidently a deep 
 thinker and great reader, much of his leisure time 
 being spent in reading and meditation. These are 
 some of the qualities for which I admired him, but 
 most because I believed him to be a Christian. Not 
 perfect, of course, for we none of us attain to perfec- 
 tion here, but showing by his life that he was gov- 
 erned by high moral principles, — actuated by a desire 
 to do riglit, from a love of right, rather than merely 
 to please. Never engaging in those vices which per- 
 vade the camp, or stooping to that which was low or 
 dishonorable, by which so many degrade themselves, 
 because separated from near friends and home influ- 
 ences. I believe he would indulge in nothing in camp 
 that he would not do among his friends in Hartford. 
 He was fond of singing, and I remember as we were 
 sailing up the lake on board the St. Mary, on the 
 second evening before the battle, a number of us who 
 were in the h.abit of singing together, collected to 
 have a social sing. Dewey was in his state room, hav- 
 ing complained all day of not feeling well, but there 
 were loud calls for him to come and sing ; he soon 
 made his appearance, and tried to excuse himself, but 
 after some urging yielded, and sat down among us, on 
 the deck and joined with us, soon becoming very much 
 animated, more than usual, seeming to enjoy it greatly, 
 making some such remark as this :" '* he believed it 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 95 
 
 was better for him than medicine." Alas ! how litlle 
 he thought it would be the last time we should ever 
 sing together in this world. 
 
 On the morning of the battle, the first I remember 
 distinctly about him was after Lieutenant Waterman 
 received his wound, at which time Dewey was trying 
 to fasten a tourniquet upon the arm. As I came up 
 he left it with me to finish, he taking command of the 
 company. Waterman being disabled, I went with 
 him at his request to the rear. While returning to 
 the front, I met several members of our company, 
 who said, " We are all cut up and Lieutenant Dewey 
 is killed." Li a few minutes the firing ceased — then 
 Sergeant Parmelee, Mr. Sage and myself, went in 
 search of him. We had gone perhaps half way to 
 the spot, when we met two men bringing him in on a 
 stretcher ; we took it from them and carried it the 
 rest of the way ourselves. I saw that life was not 
 extinct, for he moved his head. As soon as we 
 reached the place where the doctor was, I called him 
 and asked what was to be done. He replied, " It will 
 be useless attempting to do anything." The most we 
 could do was to make his last moments as comfortable 
 as possible. I procured some spirit and water, and 
 with a small sponge moistened his lips, but on my at- 
 tempting to do it a second time, he turned his head 
 and raised his hand, as though he did not wish it, but 
 would rather be left entirely undisturbed. I spoke to 
 him several times but he showed no signs of recog- 
 nition and although he rolled his head and opened his 
 eyes occasionally, did not seem conscious of what was 
 
96 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 going on around him. One of the ambulance men 
 came to me and said they must have the stretcher on 
 which he was lying; so we raised him carefully on a 
 blanket and laid him on a spot of soft plowed ground. 
 I then got Martin Hills to hold a rubber blanket to 
 shield him from the sun, while I procured some sticks 
 with which I made a more permanent shelter. In 
 this condition he lay about five hours, breathing his 
 last near half past one o'clock, passing away without 
 a groan or struggle. I then had him taken to the 
 sugar-house and laid beside other officers. Sero-eant 
 Parmelee then came to me and said it was the Adju- 
 tant's wish that 1 should take charge of the body and 
 see that it was buried as decently as it could be under 
 the circumstances. After I had washed off the face 
 and hair, the adjutant came in and after giving a few 
 directions he stooped down and kissed the marble 
 forehead, the tears coursing down his cheeks, and ex- 
 claimed, " Poor Dewey, noble boy ! " The next morn- 
 ing Sergeant Callehan and myself procured some 
 boards and made a box in which we put the remains, 
 which, with the assistance of Sergeant Cook, we buried 
 about twelve o'clock. There was no rehgious service 
 of any kind, but we laid him sadly and silently down 
 to rest till God shall call him. Sergeant Otis marked 
 a large board, cutting the letters deep with a knife, 
 « Lieut. D. P. Dewey, Co. A. 25th Reg't C. V."— 
 which were placed firmly in the ground at the head 
 of the grave. I do not know certainly wliat his last 
 words were, but I was told the last he was heard to 
 say was, when he found the regiment was to fall back. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 97 
 
 " Well, boys, if we have got to fall back don't let us 
 do it in disorder," These are the circumstances con- 
 nected with his death and burial as far as I can recall 
 them. There may have been incidents that would be 
 interesting to you and other friends, but you know 
 during such a time of excitement many things must 
 transpire which can not afterwards be called to mind. 
 Any further information which I can give I will give 
 willingly. I should have written this before but my 
 time has been so occupied that I could hardly have 
 an evening to call my own. 
 
 Truly yours, 
 
 Samuel P. Folvtell. 
 
 Part of a letter from Sergeant Cooke, a mem- 
 ber of young Dewey's squad, to Mrs. Dewey. 
 After giving some particulars concerning the 
 place of his burial, which have already been 
 related, he adds his own affectionate tribute to 
 the purity of the character of his friend. 
 
 Concerning his example as a Christian, I can say 
 that I always considered his example good and worthy 
 of imitation. I never knew of his doing anything in- 
 consistent with his profession as a Christian. You 
 may have the consolation of knowing that he never 
 gave occasion for any stories which might pain you. 
 You may well be proud of such a son. With his 
 squad he was a great favorite. They knew him but 
 to love him, and he always seemed to think a great 
 
98 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 deal of them. He was kind and always ready to do 
 a favor. 
 
 I do not remember who suggested the plan of read- 
 ing a chapter in the Bible every night. We carried 
 out the custom as long as the squad remained unbro- 
 ken, which was up to two or three days of the battle 
 on the 14th of April. Then there was left only 
 Woodbridge and myself and our Bibles were left in 
 our knapsacks. You remember we left them at Bra- 
 shear City to receive them again in three or four days. 
 He bore up under the march to Port Hudson the first 
 time and also from Baton Rouge without a murmur, 
 at least none ever reached my ears. 
 
 If anything I have written will be of service to 
 you, I shall be very glad, though I fear it is but little. 
 Yours, respectfully, 
 
 Aaron Cooke. 
 
 Extract of a letter from Colonel Bissell, of 
 the twenty-fifth regiment, to the father of Lieu- 
 tenant Dewey. 
 
 The death of your son was a very great loss to me, 
 and to the company and regiment. I had noticed 
 him from his very marked promptness and activity in 
 his position in the company, and I was not slow in 
 promoting him as soon as I could ; I rejoiced at the 
 opportunity. 
 
 One circumstance connected with his part in the 
 battle perhaps will interest you. He used to sing a 
 song commencing, 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 99 
 
 " There Is music in the air 
 When the infant morn is young." 
 
 In the fight, when the enemy first opened with their 
 field-pieces, the shell went over our heads with a 
 shriek and a loud whistle ; your son was near me at 
 the time directing his company, and as the shells 
 passed over us, he turned to me in his most cheerful 
 manner, and said he, " Colonel," 
 
 " There is music in the air." 
 
 I have now forgotten my reply, but he went on 
 cheering his men. I noticed him several times and 
 he was always at his post, and I was struck by his 
 cheerful and utterly fearless manner. He died as he 
 had lived, cheerful and fearless and good. 
 
 I had learned during our short acquaintance to love 
 him, and when the word came to me that Dewey had 
 fallen, I was for the moment unmanned. I write 
 with considerable feeling, for I had formed for him 
 an attachment stronger than usual, and when he fell 1 
 felt that I had lost a personal friend, and more than a 
 friend, almost a brother or a son. 
 
 I sympathize with you deeply in your bereavement 
 and feel that I myself need sympathy. I will add 
 that I saw him just before he was removed for burial. 
 I went alone into the sugar-house where he lay ; the 
 rays of the setting sun shone into the window and fell 
 across his face ; his countenance was calm as if in 
 sleep, his face beautiful in death. I brushed away 
 the hair from his brow, and closed his eyes and shed 
 
100 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 my first tear of that day, over one who so promising 
 had been stricken down. 
 
 Till that moment I had not realized the sternness 
 required of one who leads men to danger, but I sat 
 down beside poor Dewey and gave way to tears. 
 
 Colonel Bissell says again on writing of this 
 brave young Lieutenant : 
 
 He was much beloved as an officer, and as a man, 
 and the entire regiment mourns his loss. 
 
 Of the manner in which he sustained himself, 
 writes Lieut. Colonel Weld, in command of the com- 
 pany, I can speak from personal observation. No 
 company was so well held together, none did greater 
 service. Lieutenant Dewey constantly exposed his 
 own person, showing an utter fearlessness in discharge 
 of his duty. He could hardly have justly considered 
 that part of his duty which required him to take all 
 proper means to preserve his own life to his company 
 and country, not to say his friends. He showed him- 
 self in all respects to be an excellent officer. * * 
 
 My affection for your son was very sincere, and I 
 believe it was reciprocated. Blessed is he, who, 
 loving Jesus better than all on earth, can bow with 
 submission to such a blow. God grant you] and all 
 who loved your son, grace to do so. 
 
 And again 
 
 My affection for him grew daily. He possessed all 
 the points of a good soldier; was brave, discreet, 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 101 
 
 reliable, prompt, and as an officer, just and discrimin- 
 ating, showing excellent judgment. In the camp and 
 in the field, as at home, he exhibited all the points of 
 a high-minded, cultivated Christian gentleman. Be- 
 loved by all and sincerely mourned, his example is one 
 to be emulated, and his memory will be ever fragrant. 
 
 Extract from a letter from Lieutenant Colo- 
 nel Weld, to the father of Lieutenant Dewey. 
 
 Before Port Hudson, June, 1863. 
 
 With fresh sadness the thought of your noble son 
 and my sorrow recur to mind. Freed from wars and 
 tumults he is at rest in a soldier's grave, where the 
 silent waters of the little river called the Teche, filled 
 with lillies and water-plants, and overhung with elms 
 and oaks, flow by, and the tall corn and cane-fields 
 wave in the breeze and grow luxuriantly green ; where 
 the wounded and dying were brought to the field hos- 
 pital on that fatal day. That grave is well marked, 
 near a large sugar-house, where none but malicious 
 hands can disturb the precious clay. 
 
 You need no t the assurance of my deep sympathy 
 nor of the affection with which Perkins was regarded 
 both by his fellow-officers and the soldiers of the 25th, 
 and you may depend that should opportunity occur, any 
 one of us would cheerfully render any aid we could 
 to secure a safe and proper transmit of his remains. 
 
 We can not refrain from making an extract 
 from a most delightfully written volume enti- 
 
 9* 
 
102 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 tied the " Color-Guard," by J. K. Hosmer, 
 where a description of the battle-field, where 
 Lieut. Dewey, with so many other of our brave 
 soldiers fell, is given, so vivid in its painful 
 details that we seem ahnost to stand with the 
 eye-witness, who says : 
 
 " Day broke as we marched out into the road, — a 
 listless, half-exhausted body of men. During the 
 three previous nights we had had but little sleep and 
 but little food since the Saturday before. It was now 
 Tuesday. We were all more or less drenched with 
 the rain, and the blankets and clothing weighed double 
 with the moisture. As the sun came up, however, 
 and the morning damps steamed off, we felt better, 
 and had our senses open a little to the beauty of the 
 road, the sweetness of the blossoms, and the verdure of 
 the slopes. 
 
 Presently we hear the sound of firing. "They 
 have found them again," I say to the color-sergeant, 
 and we look off over the woods to where the white cloud 
 of the discharge can be seen rising among the trees. 
 As we sweep along the road towards the firing, the 
 day each minute becomes more and more beautiful. 
 Each minute, too, the roar of the cannon is more 
 frequent and becomes mingled at last with sharp, rat- 
 tling volleys of small arms. We come at last, into 
 full view of the scene.* We halt in the road, and 
 leaning against a fence, looking southward through 
 
 are now within cannon-range. We look down a 
 * Irish Bend. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 103 
 
 gentle slope. To the left we can see a battery posted, 
 which fires very vigorously ; then the bodies of in- 
 fantry in long dark lines, moving upon an open field 
 in front of a wood. In the lines are gaps which may 
 be caused by moving over rough ground, or by the 
 plunge of shot and shell. To the right again we can 
 see bodies of troops and batteries. Hear that long 
 crash of musketry ! each individual discharge so blend- 
 ing into the others, that we can only hear one long 
 sound, like the slow fall of some huge tower. It is a 
 rebel volley, terribly effective, as we afterwards hear ; 
 and while the wind bears it to us, we are ordered for- 
 ward, and presently are on the very field. 
 
 Ambulance men, with stretchers, are hurrvinsr 
 across the field to a sugar-house in the rear, where 
 a hospital is established. On each stretcher is a 
 wounded man, and the number of these makes it cer- 
 tain that the engagement has reached the sad dignity 
 of a pitched battle. We are passing ammunition 
 wagons now ; now a tree, beneath which is a surgeon 
 at work, and close where he stands, on his back, stiff 
 and stark, dead, a tall, broad-chested man, with closed 
 eyes. The column files to the right, out of the road, 
 and we stand in line of battle just in the rear of the 
 action, within rifle range of the woods where the 
 enemy lie concealed, expecting every moment the 
 order to advance. The firing, however, slackens, and 
 presently word comes that the enemy are with- 
 drawing. 
 
 Between the color-company and the next company, 
 through the center of our line, runs the cart-track 
 
104 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 down into the field, along which is now constantly 
 passing a stream of wounded men, on stretchers, or 
 supported by comrades, and lines of rebel prisoners. 
 I am close by and can hear the talk of a sergeant, 
 bloody, but able to walk, who is glad he has a chance 
 to do some service. / looh^ too, upon the ghastly head 
 of a young Lieutenant who is dying upon his stretcher,* 
 and upon many others. Prisoners come in by squads, — 
 sometimes five or six, sometimes twenty or thirty. 
 Once in a while there is an intelligent, good looking 
 face ; more often the features are unintelligent, — the 
 brutish face of that deteriorating class, the white trash. 
 Thus we stand close at hand to suffering and death. 
 
 The pursuit is being continued down the road. 
 Hours pass, and we still remain in line. We cook, eat, 
 and sleep. I get out my portfolio and write a little. 
 In the course of the day, up into the blue calm sky go 
 mighty columns of smoke, with deep reports, — the ex- 
 plosions of rebel gunboats and transports, overtaken in 
 the Teche by the victorious army, and blown up by the 
 crews as they flee. Within half a dozen rods of our line 
 is a field hospital, where lie, of one New York regiment, 
 the wounded colonel, the dead lieutenant colonel, 
 adjutant, and other ofiicers and men. Of other regi- 
 ments, too, are many wounded, federal and rebel, — 
 some dying under the surgeon's hands. I go over and 
 see the writhing wounded, and the hospital attendants 
 laying out the dead. An Irish private lies close by 
 the straight young adjutant, whose face is reverently 
 
 * This it is supposed, was Lieutenant Dewey. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 105 
 
 covered ; and not far off is a rebel, covered thick 
 with his own gore. Before death go down all distinc- 
 tions and animosities. Does it not seem when the ex- 
 periences are so out of the common course, and so 
 dreadful, as if there ought to be some change in out- 
 ward circumstances to make them correspond ? But 
 no : it was a perfect summer day, — an almost cloud- 
 less sky, with a cool, sweet wind coming from the 
 woods where the rebels had been hidden ; the woods 
 green and fresh and innocent, as if they were only a 
 haunt for fairies. * * * * 
 
 They say we lost in the neighborhood of four hun- 
 dred. Only one brigade was engaged. It was a 
 bloody strife." 
 
 We are reminded of Whittier's beautiful 
 " Battle Autumn of 1862," which for its great 
 beauty we give to the reader in this place, 
 believing that those who have never read it 
 will dwell upon it with delight ; while those 
 to whom it is familiar will welcome the sweet 
 religious strain again. 
 
 " The flags of war like storm-birds fly, 
 
 The charging trumpets blow ; 
 Yet rolls no thunder in the sky, 
 
 No earthquake strives below. 
 
 And, calm and patient, Nature keeps 
 
 Her ancient promise well. 
 Though o'er her bloom and greenness sweep 
 
 The battle's breath of hell. 
 
106 A MEMORIAL OP 
 
 And still she walks in golden hours 
 Through harvest-happy farms ; 
 
 And still she wears her fruits and flowers 
 Like jewels on her arms. 
 
 What mean the gladness of the plain, 
 The mirth of eve and morn, 
 
 The mirth that shakes the beard of grain, 
 And yellow locks of corn ? 
 
 Ah, eyes may well be full of tears 
 And hearts with hate are hot ; 
 
 But even-paced come round the years. 
 And Nature changes not. 
 
 She meets with smiles our bitter grief, 
 With songs our groans of pain ; 
 
 She mocks with tint of flower and leaf 
 The war-field's crimson stain. 
 
 Still, in the cannon's pause we hear 
 Her sweet thanksgiving psalm ; 
 
 Too near to God for doubt or fear. 
 She shares the eternal calm. 
 
 She knows the seed lies safe below 
 The fires that blast and burn ; 
 
 For all the tears of blood we sow, 
 She waits a rich return. 
 
 She sees with clearer eyes than ours 
 The good of sufTering born, — 
 
 The hearts that blossom like her flowers, 
 And ripen like her corn. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 107 
 
 Oh, give to us, in times like these 
 
 Tiie vision of her eyes ; 
 And make her fields and fruited trees 
 
 Our golden prophecies ! 
 
 Oh give to us her finer ear I 
 
 Above this stormy din, 
 We, too, would hear the bells of cheer 
 
 Ring peace and freedom in ! 
 
 Letter fi-om Bishop Burgess of Maine. 
 
 Gardiner^ Maine, May 7th, 1863. 
 My dear Mrs. Dewey : 
 
 I have heard of your bereavement ; and T can but 
 write, though I well know how little it can avail at 
 this moment. Your dear son was the precious gift of 
 God, who had preserved him so long to be your com- 
 fort and reliance. It might have pleased God, in his 
 supreme wisdom, to remove him in his youth througli 
 many of the common diseases which are the instru- 
 ments of his will, and through which so many fami- 
 lies are made desolate. You had experience in former 
 years of that kind of sorrow ; you know all that trial ; 
 and you can now look back upon it, I presume, with 
 submission, peace, and perhaps with a sacred satisfac- 
 tion. Now, the same Lord has appointed a different 
 instrumentality for his mysterious purpose, and your 
 son has laid down his life for his country and for all 
 of us ; with so many others which have been given 
 up in this melancholy but unavoidable struggle. He 
 has died in the way of honorable duty ; a sacrifice, 
 the value of which God only knows and can estimate. 
 Hereafter, he will be remembered with honor, and 
 
108 A MEMOKIAL. OP 
 
 you and his father and his brothers will ever be grate- 
 ful for his unstained career and memory. But all this 
 can not heal your wound, and I feel that I express 
 respect and sympathy only, but have no power to 
 strengthen you except by pointing you to the Source 
 of all strength and consolation. He does not willingly 
 afflict ; He knows and appoints that time and man- 
 ner which are best. The hairs of our heads are all 
 numbered, and every drop of blood which has flowed 
 has been shed at a moment which He foresaw and for 
 which He made provision in His wisdom and in His 
 goodness. I trust your dear son feared God, and in 
 anticipation of the dangers of battle, committed him- 
 self to His care and mercy, through our Lord Jesus 
 Christ. I did not know that he was there ; but my 
 prayers, with those of millions, have been continually 
 offered for such as like him were in mortal peril for 
 our sake. I do not think that any one who falls in 
 such a cause, simply because it is the duty of all citi- 
 zens to defend their country, and he is willing to meet 
 it that others may be spared, can be a loser through 
 his noble act of love. It is following the example of 
 Him who said, " Greater love hath no man than this, 
 that a man lay down his life for his friends : ye are 
 my friends if ye do whatsoever I command you." 
 
 I beg to be most kindly remembered to all your 
 family : and to assure them of my tenderest sympathy 
 and sincere prayers. 
 
 Believe me, as ever. 
 
 Affectionately yours, 
 
 George Burgess, 
 
 Mrs. E. P. Dewey. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 109 
 
 Extract of a letter from Rev. Mr. Oviatt, Chap- 
 lain of the 25th Reghiient. 
 
 I saw him often and always loved him for his man- 
 liness, and equally for his gentleness and lovehness. 
 I am glad that you are to recover his body, and when 
 you receive it please let me know. 
 
 That he is in a better world we can not doubt. 
 The Lord greatly comfort you all ! 
 
 Yours, with true sympathy, 
 
 Geo. a. Oviatt. 
 
 When Bishop Burgess left the parish of 
 Christ Church, Hartford, to enter upon his 
 duties as Bishop of Maine, Perkins was but a 
 little child ; had the Bishop remained amongst 
 us what a bond of Christian love would liave 
 arisen between that most faithful Shepherd and 
 this young member of the flock of Christ ! 
 The one walking steadily onward through all 
 the changes of life, in that path that is " Like 
 the shining light that shineth more and more 
 unto the perfect day ;" and the other entering 
 and following on in the same blessed pathway 
 to " Glory, honor and immortality." Bishop 
 B. says, " I trust your dear son feared God, 
 and in the anticipation of the dangers of battle 
 committed himself to His care and mercy, 
 through our Lord Jesus Christ." The assur- 
 ance that he did " fear God and that he had 
 10 
 
110 A MEMORIAL OP 
 
 consecrated himself as Christ's faithful soldier 
 and servant unto his life's end," is the abiding 
 consolation of those that loved him. When he 
 was but eighteen years old he took upon him- 
 self the vows that were made for him in his in- 
 fancy in baptism, and very soon after became a 
 communicant of the Church of Christ. And 
 now while sorrowfvilly kneeling around the 
 sacred table where he was wont to kneel, 
 there is 
 
 " A group of worshipers iu mourning, 
 Missing some one at tlie Sacrament." 
 
 Yet they may follow that " one" in faith and 
 trust where now he is, 
 
 " Up above a crown'd and happy spirit, 
 Like an infant in the eternal years, 
 Made to grow in life and love forever, 
 Ordered in his place, amongst his peers." 
 
 At the time that young Dewey so success- 
 fully accomplished his task in writing and de- 
 livering his composition upon Frankincense, 
 the Reverend Dr. W. was present. Turn- 
 ing to Mrs. D., as the young speaker finished 
 his theme, he asked, " Is that your boy Mrs. 
 Dewey?" and then said, "You ought to be 
 proud of him ; you ought to educate him 
 for the Church." How differently his course 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. Ill 
 
 has been ordered ! Yet who can say that the 
 issues Ox^ his life may not be equal to all that 
 would have been accomplished, had it been de- 
 voted to the ministry ? It was the stern voice 
 of conscience which urged him into the army. 
 And how many hundreds, — thousands of our 
 noblest men have gone forth like him, with their 
 lives in their hands and have perished in the 
 same cause — " A noble army of martyrs ! " In 
 the native city of our young hero, what hon- 
 orable names are added to the long array of 
 those that all over our country are treasured 
 amongst her jewels. Young Lieut. Charles 
 T. Weld, the record of whose life is all that is 
 " Lovely and of good report," who was laid to 
 rest amidst tlie tears of a multitude, while Da- 
 vid's lamentation over Saul and Jonathan, 
 sounded in our ears as if for the first time, 
 '' The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high 
 places; how are the mighty fallen!" His 
 grave is by the side of his time-honored ances- 
 tors, that were gathered to their rest after long 
 years of usefulness and honor. Yet the meas- 
 ure of his duty was full, although his life was 
 of such short duration, 
 
 " And, though the warrior's sun has set, 
 Its light shall linger round us yet, 
 Bright, radiant, blest." 
 
112 A MEMORIAL OP 
 
 We might speak too of young Capt. C. A. Teri- 
 nant, who could hardly be restrained from the 
 first call of our chief ruler to go forth in de- 
 fense of his country's honor, by the entreaties 
 of a parent he had never failed to honor. The 
 second call came and " noiv 1 must go^^^ was the 
 responding word of this young patriot. After 
 months of brave endurance, of active duty, 
 and after passing safely through the perils of 
 one severe battle, he was hit by the deadly 
 missile in another which ended all mortal con- 
 flicts for him. A pure-minded, amiable, con- 
 scientious member of the " Household of faith," 
 whose last message to his friends in Christ was, 
 " the hope that their prayers might be heard 
 in behalf of the children of the Church sub- 
 ject to so many temptations in the army." 
 " Henceforth," says one of his companions, 
 " let his name be cherished and remembered 
 with reverence by all who have a heart to love 
 and a soul to honor a filial son, a faithful friend, 
 a true soldier and patriot." 
 
 And another name which shines before us in 
 bright characters is that of young Gen. Griffin 
 A. Stedman* But lately written amongst those 
 that belong to the departed, on tlie enduring 
 rolls of fame, a name of well earned distinc- 
 
 * He Avas also a member of Trinity College. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 113 
 
 tion. AUbough but twenty-six years of age, he 
 had received the appointment of brigadieF- 
 general, and yet he liad not received it, for it 
 reached his tent while he lay there cold in 
 death. Faithful in the discharge of duty, brave, 
 mature in mind, of a kind and gentle spirit, 
 he w,as beloved and honored by all grades of 
 his warlike companions, from tlie highest rank 
 to the humblest, and not only in the army 
 were his fine traits of character appreciated, it 
 was wherever he was known. His superiority 
 was apparent to all who had any intercourse 
 with him ; so young, so well qualified to adorn 
 and ennoble all the relations of life, his early 
 removal from us must fill the heart with sor- 
 row. 
 
 These are but the beginning names of those 
 who have gone from us, who will be seen 
 amongst us no more. While we think of them 
 the bright hues that used to glow above and 
 around us seem to fade aw^ay in the dreary and 
 lengthening shadows ; a long night of sorrow 
 and darkness ! 
 
 To Captain Samuel S. Hay den, who fell in 
 the same battle and was buried in the same 
 grave with Lieutenant Dewey, we must pay a 
 brief tribute of sorrow and affection, and of 
 honor. He was a man of such a genial and 
 10* 
 
114 A MEMORIAL OP 
 
 kindly nature that it was impossible not to love 
 him ; while his quick insight into human char- 
 acter, his strong common sense, and his 
 fine natural powers were all harmonized and 
 brought into hourly effectiveness by the power 
 of a living faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 Rev. Mr. Oviatt, chaplain of the 25th regi- 
 ment, says, in an address delivered at tlie fune- 
 ral of Capt. H. Capt. Hayden was truly a 
 brave man ; he was not rash, but he was 
 brave according to Bacon's definition of the 
 word, and united " courage with generosity and 
 dignity of mind," and as an anonymous writer 
 says, " The brave man will not deliberately do 
 an injury to his fellow-man." 
 
 His patriotism was as pure and self-sacrific- 
 ing as ever glowed in the bosom of any man. 
 He enlisted in the army not for gain, not for 
 honor, not because he was weary of the routine 
 of life at home, and would be an adventurer, 
 but simply from a stern sense of duty. He had 
 a pleasant home, he was surrounded by loving 
 kindred and friends, he enjoyed the confidence 
 of the community, and he had a competence 
 of worldly good, with common frugality and 
 industry, to enable him to support himself and 
 family comfortably and to contribute something 
 as he wished, to the great causes of benevo- 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 115 
 
 lencG ; while lie had passed the meridian of his 
 years, being in the fiftieth year of his age, and 
 was just at the time of life when lie felt that 
 he would more than ever find his peace and 
 enjoyment in the bosom of his home and in the 
 society of his friends. His country was in 
 peril. Treason was beating against the con- 
 stitution and government of the country and 
 seeking most madly to rupture the Union, and 
 the cry to arms was ringing tlirough the val- 
 leys and over the hills of New England. The 
 cry roused all the Christian patriotism in him, 
 and that he might do what in him lay to put 
 down this rebellion, he nobly laid himself on 
 the altar and went forth to fight for his coun- 
 try. As he was loyal as loyal could be, and 
 was ready to fight for the preservation of the 
 constitution, so did he hate the institution of 
 slavery, and feel that it must and ought to be 
 in due time " utterly overthrown." — Memorial 
 address delivered at Ike funeral of Captain 
 Samuel S. Hat/den, at Windsor Locks, Friday, 
 June 19M, 1863. 
 
 Tlie following original verses were given to 
 Mrs. Dewey by a friend as applicable to the 
 brief but noble career of her lamented son. 
 
116 A MEMORIAL OP 
 
 Thoughts suggested by seeing the picture of an Angel, 
 with his hand resting on the shoulder of a young child, 
 standing on the brink of a precipice, which is concealed 
 from his sight by flowers of varied hue, — portraying the 
 German idea, that so long as the child heeds the Angel's 
 hand, he will be protected from harm. 
 
 " As gently falls, in evening hour, 
 The dew upon that drooping flower, 
 So from the Angel's wing drops balm, 
 My darling's anguish'd brow to calm, — 
 He sleeps, — he wakes, — and life again 
 . Resumes his wonted power to reign. 
 " Blest Guardian Angel ! oh ! 'tis joy 
 To know thy hand rests on my boy." 
 
 " Within his path a serpent lies, — 
 
 One touch from its sharp fang, — he dies, — 
 
 He counts its spots, — my darling boy ! 
 
 He holds it like a pretty toy, — 
 
 He lays it down, with gentle care, 
 
 Then passes on as free as air. 
 
 " Blest Guardian Angel ! Oh ! 'tis joy 
 
 To know thy hand rests on my boy." 
 
 " In youthful pride he now doth stand ; — 
 Oh ! will he heed that angel hand '? — 
 Pleasure's gay flowers, of varying hue, 
 Conceal a chasm from his view, — 
 One step aside, — and he is gone — 
 He stops, admires, then passes on. 
 " Blest Guardian Angel ! Oh ! 'tis joy 
 To know thy hand still guides my boy." 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 117 
 
 " His way is rough and dangers high 
 
 Appear where'er he turns his eye. 
 
 Ambition's cliariot by his side 
 
 O'er the rough path can smoothly glide ; 
 
 With impulse strong he takes the rein, 
 
 Then turns and passes on again. 
 
 '* Blest Guardian Angel ! oh ! 'tis joy 
 
 To know thy liand still guides my boy." 
 
 " A cross appears, — and bowing low, 
 Heaven's armor over him doth throw ; 
 Then from that cross there beams a light 
 Which makes earth's darkest regions bright. 
 Which shows that those rough paths but speed 
 The faithful soldier to his meed. 
 "Blest Guardian Angel! oh! 'tis joy 
 To know thy hand rests on my boy." 
 
 " Girded with strength he now doth stand, 
 Ready for duty's stern command. 
 Ambition's steeds, hoofs crimson dyed, 
 Now rushing past, spread terror wide,— 
 His country calls ; — and must he go ? 
 He falters not, — he meets the foe. 
 " Blest Guardian ! oh ! in fear, 'tis joy 
 To know thy hand still guides my boy." 
 
 •' The conflict's past,— and he is gone, — 
 The sorrowing mother sits alone, — 
 But will she weep, that he did give 
 His life, that we in peace might live ? 
 That dying thus, he drew more nigh 
 To Him, who on the cross did die ? 
 " Blest Guardian Angel ! guide in joy, 
 The stricken mother to her boy." 
 
118 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 " And will she weep, — that to his eye, 
 When those dark battle clouds passed by, 
 Heaven's plain triumphant was revealed, 
 Where stand the thousands who are sealed, 
 Enrobed in white, a glorious band. 
 With victor palms in every hand ? 
 " Blest Guardian Angel ! guide in joy, 
 The hoping mother to her boy." 
 
 " And will she weep, — that wild alarms, 
 
 And cannon's roar, and clash of arms, 
 
 Melted in music, sweet and low, 
 
 AVhicb from the seraphs' harps doth flow. 
 
 As his freed spirit took its way. 
 
 To heaven's eternal triumph day ? 
 
 " Blest Guardian Angel ! guide in joy, 
 
 The waiting mother to her boy." 
 
 DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY, 
 
 Member of the Junior Class of Trinity College, Lieuten- 
 ant Company A, 25th Begiment Connecticut Volun- 
 teers, killed in the Battle of the Teche, La., April 14th, 
 18G3. 
 
 RESOLUTIONS OF THE JUNIOR CLASS. 
 
 Whkreas, It hath pleased Almighty God to remove, by a 
 most sudden and untimely death, Lieut. Daniel P. 
 Dewky ; therefore, we, for ourselves, and in behalf of 
 our Class-mates, in order to express our deep regret at 
 his fate, and our respect for his memory, have 
 
 Resolved, That, although acknowledging, in the death of 
 our friend and class-mate, the doings of an all-wise Provi- 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 119 
 
 dence, yet we mourn his death, and regret the loss to the 
 College and to the Class. 
 
 Resolved^ That to the Family we extend our heart felt 
 sympathies. 
 
 Resolved, That the Class wear the appropriate badge 
 of mourning for thirty days. 
 
 Resolved, That these Resolutions be printed in the City 
 papers, and that a copy be sent to the family. 
 
 WM. A. M. WAINWRIGHT, > ^^ ^^ „ 
 JOSEPH F.ELY, '^Committee. 
 
 RESOLUTIO^'S OF THE TRINITY COLLEGE PARTHENON. 
 
 Whereas, Tt hath pleased an Overruling Providence to 
 remove by death our late beloved associate and friend, 
 Lieutenant D. P. Dewey : and whereas, this Society, 
 with which he was connected, desires to give suitable 
 expression to the sorrow which this bereavement has 
 caused : therefore, 
 
 Resolved, That while we bow in submission to this afflict- 
 ive dispensation of Almighty God, we feel that in the 
 death of our former friend, this Society has lost an earnest 
 and most efficient member. 
 
 Resolved, That while we affectionately cherish the mem- 
 ory of our departed friend, who died struggling nobly in 
 his country's cause, we will endeavor to emulate his manly 
 traits of character. 
 
 Resolved, That we tender our unfeigned sympathy to 
 the friends and relatives of the deceased, hoping that they 
 may be sustained in their affliction by Power from on 
 llish. 
 
120 A MEMORIAL OP 
 
 Resolved, That these Resolutions be published in the 
 City papers, and a copy of them be presented to the rela- 
 tives of Lieut. Dewey, as a last tribute of respect from 
 those who have known and esteemed his manly virtues. 
 
 CHARLES HUSBAND,) committee 
 C. H. B. TREMAINE, ^ ^^^'^^ttee. 
 
 FROM A CLASS-MATE. 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 There is a grief whose silence is more speaking 
 Than any words the human lips can tell, 
 Too full of woe for any language — breaking 
 The sad enchantment of the mournful spell. 
 
 And yet the lips can scarce restrain the feeling 
 That from the heart with words seems brimming o'er, 
 And in the weakness of its woe appealing 
 To those whose hearts can make response no more. 
 
 Farewell, great heart ! gone from the toil and striving ; 
 Gone from the struggle of the Wrong with Right ; 
 Gone from the lesser to the more exalted living ; 
 Gone from the feebler to the fuller light. 
 
 Farewell, oh heart ! which, great in sacrificing, 
 The full fruition of thy work shall bless ; 
 Above the press of circumstances rising, 
 Superior to their fretful litdeness. 
 
 Farewell, oh heart ! most great in self-commanding, 
 Enjoy the Peace — thy conflict now is done — 
 The Peace of God, which passeth understanding ; 
 The Peace which crowns the conquest nobly won. 
 
 T. R. A. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 121 
 
 After an interval of seven months, in which 
 for several unavoidable causes the body of Lieu- 
 tenant Dewey was detained at the ^South, his 
 mother succeeded in her efforts to obtain the 
 object of her anxious care. But not till mid- 
 winter did she have that melancholy satisfac- 
 tion. He was buried from Christ Church ; 
 the sacred home where he had been religiously 
 educated, and confirmed, and where he had 
 received his first Communion. 
 
 We copy from the Hartford Times, the touch- 
 ing funeral address of President Eliot, of 
 Trinity College, together with the particulars 
 of the last sad ceremonies : 
 
 A Soldier's Funeral. — The funeral of Lieut. 
 D. P. Dewey, of the 25th Regiment (killed in the 
 battle of Irish Bend last spring) took place yesterday 
 afternoon from Christ Church, and Avas very largely 
 attended. A number of the officers and men of the 
 regiment, the President and Faculty of Trinity Col- 
 lege, and many students were present. The body was 
 enclosed in a coffin covered with black cloth, thickly 
 studded with silver nails and handles. A heavy plate 
 bore the name and age (20 years and 10 months) of 
 the deceased. Upon the top of the coffin were several 
 wreaths and crosses of flowers, the sword and cap of 
 the deceased, and the torn and tattered flags of the 
 25th Regiment. The bearers were non-commissioned 
 officers of the regiment. At 2 o'clock the Rev. Dr. 
 11 
 
122 A MEMORIAL OP 
 
 Clark and Mr. Doane met the body at the vesti- 
 bule of the church and proceeded up the aisle reading 
 the beautiful burial service of the Episcopal church. 
 On reaching the chancel, the coffin was placed in front 
 of the font and the regular service read by Rev. 
 Mr. Doane. At the conclusion of the lesson, Dr. 
 Clark called upon Professor Eliot, President of 
 Trinity College, for a few remarks. Professor E. 
 responded by walking up the aisle, till standing by the 
 side of the coffin that held _^the remains of one of the 
 most faithful of students, he pronounced the following 
 eulogium : — 
 
 Had these rites been performed, as was intended, 
 in the Chapel of the College, it would have been en- 
 tirely appropriate for me to have stood as I now stand, 
 by these mute remains, and utter one last word of 
 honor and affection. It is much less befitting that my 
 voice should be hfted up within these walls, and yet, 
 as I have been asked, I am ready to bear my testi- 
 mony to the character of him whose body lies before 
 us. Here, in these consecrated courts, and before 
 God's Altar, I give witness to the fidelity of this young 
 life, often troubled, often baffled, and yet, as I believe, 
 persistent and devoted, endeavoring to do his best, a 
 warm, devoted friend, a clear-minded pupil, and so 
 meriting not only the approval of his teachers, but, if 
 I may say it reverently, the apj))'oval of his Creator. 
 The days of his youth are cut short, and he is called 
 away, as we are apt to phrase it, before his time. But 
 what time was more truly his, than that in vN-hich he 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 123 
 
 had reached the highest Urait of earthly achievement 
 in his self-sacrifice? What opportunities are ours, 
 as we linger on, seeking to still our listless desires or 
 subdue our selfish wills ; what are ours, beyond that 
 one, sudden, entire opportunity of his upon the battle- 
 field ? He feared God and honored the King ; that 
 is, he honored the law and the government of his 
 country, and when the hour came to live or to die for 
 them, he was ready to live or to die, as might be. best 
 for him and for them. So closed an honorable career ; 
 and if we think it too brief, if we mourn the end that 
 came before we were ready to have it come, let us 
 remember that the life of our departed brother is 
 lengthened beyond the span of ordinary lives by the 
 light it enjoys and the duration it partakes in common 
 with the lives of all the true and faithful who have 
 passed from mortality to immortality. 
 
 The scene during Professor Eliot's remarks was 
 impressive and solemn. The sombre church dark- 
 ened, the Christmas evergreens, the hushed silence, 
 broken only by the sobs of the bereaved mother, all 
 tended to give an additional power and effect to his 
 remarks, which sank 'deep into the hearts of all his 
 listeners. 
 
 The body was then taken to Zion's Hill Cemetery, 
 where the concluding services were read by Dr. 
 Clark, and all that was mortal of Lieut. D. P. 
 Dewey was consigned to its last resting-place. 
 
124 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 FROM LYRA GERMANICA. 
 
 " When I have conquer'd ; then at last 
 
 My course is run, good night ! 
 I am well pleased that it is past ; 
 
 A thousand times, good night ! 
 But ye dear friends, whom I must leave, 
 
 Look not thus anxiously ; 
 Why should you thus lament and grieve ? 
 
 It standeth well with me. 
 
 Farewell, O anguish, pain and fear, 
 
 Farewell, farewell for ever, 
 It glads my heart to leave you here, 
 
 Redeem'd from you for ever ! 
 Henceforth a life of joy I share 
 
 In my Creator's hand ; 
 None of the griefs can touch me there 
 
 That haunt this lower land. 
 
 Who yet o'er earth in time must roam, 
 
 Not yet from error free, 
 Scarce lisp the language of our home, 
 
 The glad eternity. 
 Far better is a happy death 
 
 Than worldly life, I trow ; 
 The weakness once I sank beneath, 
 
 I never more shall know. 
 
 Lay on my coffin many a wreath. 
 
 For conquerors wreath'd are seen ; 
 And lo ! my soul attains through death 
 
 The crown of evergreen, 
 That blooms in fadeless groves of he avcn ; 
 
 And this fair victor's crown, 
 The mighty Son of God hath given, 
 
 Who for my sake came down. 
 
DANIEL PERKINS DEWEY. 125 
 
 'Twas but a while that I was sent 
 
 To dwell among you here ; 
 Now God resumes what he hath lent 
 
 Oh grieve not o'er my bier ;* 
 But say, 'twas given at His command^ 
 
 Who takes it, He is just ; 
 Our life and death are in His hand, 
 
 His servants can but trust. 
 
 That ye should see my grave, alas ! 
 
 Shows we are frail indeed, 
 That it so soon should come to pass 
 
 Our Father hath decreed ; 
 And He your bitter grief shall still. 
 
 Think not too young am T, 
 For he who dies as God doth will, 
 
 Is old enough to die. 
 
 Farewell, thou dear, dear soul, farewell ! 
 
 To those sweet pleasures go, 
 That we who mourning here must dwell 
 
 Not yet, alas ! can know. 
 Ah when shall that great day be come 
 
 When these things fade away, 
 And Thou shalt bid us welcome home, 
 
 Would God it were to-day T—Sacer, 1865. 
 
 * " If I never come home again you must not grieve for me, 
 but rather contemplate the glorious cause in which I fell. I have 
 every trust in a kind Providence and whatever He orders we 
 must all submit to." Page 68. 
 
 11* 
 
126 A MEMORIAL OF 
 
 The record of this short life is now ended. 
 From childhood to the years of opening man- 
 hood it has been a bright career. Coming into 
 the field, crossing it and vanishing into the in- 
 finite beyond, like some bright planet which 
 the astronomer sees through his telescope, one 
 human soul ! of more value, our Divine Master 
 has told us, than the whole world ! 
 
 And what a myriad of lives have been sac- 
 rificed since this terrible war begun ! Multi- 
 tudes amongst them have doubtless gone to 
 their everlasting rest. But when " the Lord 
 writeth up the people," what answer can those 
 miserable men give who have brought this war 
 upon us, for " the people" that have perished 
 by their iniquity ? " Vengeance is mine, I will 
 repay, saith the Lord." And to the oppressors 
 of a helpless race a judgment is surely coming, 
 for " He shall judge the poor of the people, he 
 shall save the children of the needy, and shall 
 break in pieces the oppressor.''^ 
 
 May we "be purified from all our national 
 sins," by this dreadful punishment which has 
 been sent upon us, and may the time come when 
 " Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, 
 neither shall they learn war any more.^^ 
 
 J' 
 
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