Monday, December 17, 2012

1862 December 17 near Falmouth, Va.

[from the "War Journal" of George Hazen Dana, as compiled sometime after the war from his diaries and letters]


                                                           Camp near Falmouth Va.
                                                                           Dec. 17th 1862.
     Here we are again, safe and sound – that is, the
balance of us, - in our old camp, and I presume
you will like to hear – what part I took in the pro-
ceedings.        I was sent to Washington, as you
know, on business, and had not finished, when I heard
that we were at work before Fredericks burg, and heard
also that our brigade was engaged.        So I started,
Saturday morning at 8 o’clock for Aquia Creek,
and left there at 3 P.M. for Falmouth, in the cars.
Hearing the heavy booming of the guns ahead, I
was very impatient, as you may imagine, to reach
the station, but as ill luck would have it, when about
five miles from Falmouth, the cars ran off the track –
-hurting nobody, however – and I had then to start
on foot with my valise -        I ran about two


miles, and becoming rather used up, had to leave my
baggage with the drivers of an army wagon, on the
road; then started again, and reached the pontoon
bridge, opposite Fredericksburg, about 5 o’clock, and
there heard that our brigade had crossed about
twenty minutes before.        I rushed across,
through the town, to the battlefield, in front, where
there was a deafening roar of cannon and musketry
and bursting shell, the dead piled up in every
conceivable position, the wounded screaming and
groaning, the ground slippery with blood.
I ran from right to left, asking every one for Griffin’s
brigade, one directing me in one direction, another in
the opposite, and thought I should never find it,
the bullets all the while whistling about my ears,
so that it seemed as if an immense fly was
buzzing in each of them.        I was positive I should
never cross the field alive, as it seemed to my in-
experience as though a flea could not escape
without losing some feathers on both sides.         The
fire was so heavy that most of the regiments
were lying flat on their faces.        I saw five or
six regiments, however, on the ‘double quick’,
away in advance of the rest, and made for them.

As I approached them, I saw that the 32nd was the
rear one, and a moment after, all fell flat on their
face but ‘our own’, God bless it; which continued
to advance, over the others, till it took the very
front, on the brow of the hill, fired a volley, and
then, in turn, laid low, the murderous storm passing
over it.        In the mean time, I had picked up
a rifle, and finding it loaded, fired it, and then
walked up to Col. Parker, who was safe and sound,
and perfectly cool, and reported myself for duty.
How he laughed!        But I can write no more, as
the mail is off.        I am well, and in command
of Co. A.  Captain Dearborn dying nobly while
leading his company in the charge.        Do not
think me unfeeling for speaking of this sad, sad
occurrence so hastily, but I’ve no time -         More
of the battle next time.

[transcript by Mary Roy Dawson Edwards]

MSS 5130

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.