Dehon, Arthur

ARTHUR DEHON. Second Lieutenant 12th Mass. Vols. (Infantry), January 16, 1862; First Lieutenant, May 13, 1862; killed at Fredericksburg, Va., December 13, 1862. ARTHUR DEHON was born January 24, I841, the son of William and Caroline (Inches) Dehon of Boston. He was prepared for college at Mr. Tower's school in Boston; at the boarding-school of Mr. T. P. Allen in Sterling, Mass. (afterwards removed to New Bedford); and finally at the Boston Latin School. When he was sixteen years old he entered college as a Freshman in the Class of 1861, and he continued with it for nearly two years. He then went to New York and entered the office of his uncle, Mr. Theodore Dehon, where he was doing excellently until his health, which was always delicate, gave way. He was accordingly led, in February, 1861, to try the rough medicine of a voyage around Cape Horn, and the beginning of the war found him in California. He soon returned, however, and at once showed his eagerness to join the troops already in the field. At first it seemed that he might be unable to follow out his wishes immediately, and in a letter to a friend dated October 13, 1861, he wrote, "I mean to be reconciled and do what I can to live sans feur et sans reproche." Later, after Ball's Bluff, in the same spirit he wrote again: "The more reverses the more I wish to go. But at present my duty keeps me here, and I mean to try to be cheerful and keep up my spirits." He had not long to wait before his wishes were fulfilled. On the 16th of January, 1862, he was commissioned Second Lieutenant in the Twelfth Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers, Colonel Webster. His letters from the field began the same month, and in February he was already so pleased with his new profession as to write: " I wish to see one fight as a line officer, and I should not desire to change were it not that I wish to get into the Regular service." On the 13th of May, 1862, he was promoted First Lieutenant. In a letter of the 16th of the same month, dated near Fredericksburg, he thus mentions one of his first experiences of the hardships of the march: "We arrived here at twelve, A. M., on Wednesday, in a pouring rain, after a march of thirty-four miles. We started on Monday at twelve, A. M., -just forty-eight hours. Tuesday we marched eighteen miles under the hottest sun, in the heat of the day, and did it at the rate of two miles per hour. Every step seemed to be the last; but I was bound to go in with the regiment. Only two companies brought in more men than I did." Meanwhile he had learned the true feeling of an officer towards his men. He says: - " I do this to show the boys I take an interest in their sending their money home, and so encourage it. I want them to feel I am interested in them, and will do what I can to assist them." At Cedar Mountain he had his first taste of battle. He writes:" I was ordered to mount 'Joe,' and take an order to the wagontrain. When I returned the regiment had moved toward the firing. The firing commenced about two.. I caught the regiment about six, and dismounted and took my place in the company. We reached the field about half past seven. About eight o'clock we were in first position, and a shell came and exploded over us. We moved quickly, supposing the Rebels were at least a mile or two off. When we reached the second position, what was our surprise to receive a volley of rifle-balls; for a moment I feared the regiment would break. We were marching by the flank, and the men started a little for the right. Every officer promptly stopped them, brought them to the front, and ordered them to lie down on their bellies. We delivered one volley, the Rebel battery opening with shell and grapeshot all the time. The rifle firing lasted from fifteen to twenty minutes, and the enemy were within fifty yards.. We were under fire about two hours and a half, and only about five men left the ranks, none from our company..... The time we were under fire seemed to me about half an hour. I did not feel frightened or want to run, but I could not help stooping to avoid the shells, though they were not half so bad as the rifle-balls. The crack of the rifles made me feel a little nervous, but I was too much taken up with the company to be scared..... I believe the Rebels have skedaddled; but the papers will tell you more than I know. I am waiting for them to find out about the battle." A little later he served as Adjutant of his regiment, and was consequently a good deal in the society of Colonel Webster, for whom all his letters show the warmest affection and the most soldierly loyalty. That the feeling was not only on his part is manifested by a passage in one of the Colonel's letters: "There sits by my side Arthur, - a hero in the conflict, cool, calm, and brave." Unfortunately, Arthur was only too soon to prove his faithfulness to his commander and his father's friend, and to deserve and win once more the praise which he had already earned. Colonel Webster was killed at the second Bull Run; and Lieutenant Dehon, when the fight was over, obtained permission to go outside the lines of our army to search for his body, although he was informed that the intention of the Confederates was to retain all officers. He was detained, in fact; but Dr. Guild, General Lee's Medical Director, on hearing the circumstances from Dr. McFarland, the medical Director of General Pope's army, very courteously gave him a pass for the desired purpose. Then for several hours he searched in vain, but having at last found the remains, he buried them himself on the spot. Subsequently, however, having obtained an ambulance, he returned, disinterred the body from its deep grave with his naked hands for want of any instrument, and succeeded by his untiring energy in having it sent home to Massachusetts, where, but for his efforts, it would never have arrived. He wrote: "Every one I have met feels and deplores the loss of the Colonel; he was so brave and gentle. The regiment feels it most, and mourns him as a friend and commander." How he had fared in the engagement may be judged from his own words: - "The Rebels stole my sword, pistols, and belt. I had a bullet through my coat and pantaloons in the fight, which ruined them, and in the stampede of the wagon-train most of my baggage was lost, which leaves me nearly destitute.....Williams says I look ten years older since I returned from Rebeldom; but I am well and hearty, though this work is enough to make the youngest old." At South Mountain the writer met him, and he expressed a modest satisfaction that, joining the regiment as he did in the field, very young, and being at the outset unknown to most of the officers, he had succeeded in gaining their respect. A boy fresh from college, he might well be pleased to have successfully endured the severe scrutiny of older men; but his gallantry was already known beyond the limits of his regiment. Three days later, at Antietam, he had another chance to prove his manhood, and he showed himself equal to the need. Most of the men of his regiment were killed or wounded, and hardly an officer remained unhurt. "Then," he says, "they seemed to come to me for orders, as I was the only field or staff officer left. After the color-sergeant was shot, I ordered three different men to take the colors up, and saw one after another wounded; and when the last fell, I had not the heart to order another up, so I picked them up and brought them off myself, till we were out qf danger, and then gave them to one of the men." For this he was honorably mentioned in the report of his brigade commander. But his labors did not end here. As soon as his regiment was sent to the rear, he rode to Colonel Coulter, now commanding the brigade in the absence of General Hartsuff, wounded, and offered his services, which were accepted. For the rest of that day, and for several days afterwards, he accordingly did double duty, as Adjutant of his regiment and as Acting Assistant Adjutant-General of the brigade. In the same month of September, Lieutenant Dehon was detailed as Acting Aid-de-Camp to Major-General Meade, then temporarily commanding the Twelfth Army Corps. He was present in his new position at the review when the President visited the army, shortly after the battle of Antietam, and it seems to have suggested a contrast to his mind. " I notice these reviews in the field are not so well conducted as the militia reviews. No collation, no champagne, etc., but hard work and no dinner. I give my vote for the militia." There is little to tell from this time until the day of his death. In his last letter he writes as follows - "December 9. " It seems quite funny to be sitting in one's tent, just as comfortable as can be, and with the consciousness that there will be an action to-morrow. Generally the night before an action we have been so busy or so tired that rest and sleep were most sought after. But now one has a perfect opportunity to sit down comfortably and contemplate it. We shall cross, I think, without a serious fight, and shall not have one till we get near Richmond; but I can't tell. I hope we shall thrash them severely, and then there will be a satisfactory peace. I shall try to do my duty to-morrow, and be of what assistance I can to the General, and endeavor to repay by well-doing his uniform kindness." " December 10, 9 A. M. "P. S.- No orders for us yet, though some of the artillery has been put in motion. Good by. The batteries are moving." The rest of the story is told by General Meade's letter to Mr. Dehon: - "CAMP OPPOSITE FREDERICKSBURG, VA., December 16, 1862. " DEAR SIR, - It was my painful duty to telegraph you yesterday of the loss of your son Arthur. He fell on the morning of the 13th instant, while endeavoring to carry an important order to one of my brigade commanders. He was seen to fall from his horse, and was immediately approached by an officer in the vicinity, who, finding life extinct, removed his watch from his person. The ground on which he fell remaining at the close of the action in the possession of the enemy, his fate was involved in uncertainty until yesterday afternoon, when, under a flag of truce, a search was made for our dead and wounded, and Arthur's body was found where he was seen to fall. " My experience of the unnecessary suffering occasioned to relations and friends by the premature announcement of the loss of officers, and the hope I would not abandon till forced by positive evidence, that it might please God in his infinite mercy to spare Arthur, induced me to make no effort to telegraph you till the result of yesterday's examination proved he was no more. His body was immediately taken charge of by the officers of my staff, and every respect paid. This morning my aid-de-camp, Captain Coxe, has taken him to Washington, with his servant, horse, and his personal effects, and was directed to telegraph you of this fact, and make such arrangements as you might desire. " In addition to the pain which always accompanies the duty I am now discharging, I have now to mourn the loss, not only of a faithful and efficient officer, but that of a valued and cherished friend. During the brief space that Arthur and myself have been officially connected, I had time to learn his many good qualities, his high sense of duty, his amiability of disposition, and that which most particularly charmed me, his earnest desire to promote by every means in his power the happiness of yourself and the other members of his family. " I am aware, my dear sir, of the impossibility of offering consolation to one afflicted as you are. All I can offer is sympathy and condolence, in which I am joined by the whole division, to whom Arthur had become endeared by his manly character and the exhibition of his personal gallantry. In the army your son is truly and sincerely mourned; and if it were possible to be reconciled to the sacrifice you have been called on to make, the reputation he had acquired, the love that was borne him, and the grief his death has occasioned, might in a measure soften the severity of the blow. "Believe me, I feel most deeply for you, and earnestly pray God will give you strength to support the affliction which He, for some good purpose, has visited you with. "Most truly and sincerely yours, "GEO. G. MEADE. " WM. DEHON ESQ." In his report, which forms part of his testimony before the Committee on the Conduct of the War, General Meade pays this further tribute to the memory of his young aid: "The loss of Lieutenant Dehon (Twelfth Massachusetts Regiment), my aid, is greatly to be deplored, as he was a young man of high promise, and endeared to all who knew him for his manly virtues and amiable qualities." There are delicacies of youthful character which it is as hard to portray in words as for the sculptor to fix in marble the changing beauty and evanescent grace of youthful features. To say that Arthur Dehon was one of the bravest and most chivalrous of soldiers, the truest of friends, the most affectionate of sons and brothers, is still to miss the secret of his virtue and his charm. His short story has been told as far as possible in his own words, but his deepest and most sacred feelings cannot appear in any public record. The writer saw him a day or two before his death, and he then spoke with a most touching humility and tenderness of his aspiration to prove himself worthy of the confidence reposed in him, and of the affection of which he was the centre. But these things cannot be told. It is enough to say here that, unselfish and devoted, he lived for others and he died for his country.