[from the war journal of George Hazen Dana of the 32nd Massachusetts as he compiled it from letters and diaries at a later date]
Aug. 2nd 1862
You have heard, by this time, of the rebel attack on
us at midnight on the 31st of July. They shelled
us, and pelted with twelve round solid shot for
about an hour, when our batteries replied and soon
silenced them. The heaviest firing was in the di-
rection of our camp, but fortunately for us, their
aim was a few feet too high for a long time, and
fell harmlessly into the swamp behind us.
But at last they lowered their pieces, and sent the
balls flying into our midst. They buried
themselves in the ground all about the camp, one
twelve pound shot striking about five feet in front of
me, covering me and several others with dirt –
One ball tore into one of the tents, struck a knapsack
under the head of a sick man, tearing it to pieces, then
through another tent, and buried itself in the ground.
It was very dark, and I can’t tell you exactly how
I felt with these shot and shell whizzing and whir-
r-r-ring through the air in close proximity to my head.
I certainly enjoyed the feeling of excitement, how-
ever, after the miserably dull monotony of our lives,
and caught myself many times the next day desiring
a duplicate. I suppose, however, when they come
like hail (as it is said they do in battle) I shall not
be so very fond of that style of thing. They
knocked off the head of a man in the 62nd Pa.
and killed a horse (their camp is next to ours, a few
rods on our right), and passed through the body of
a man in the Signal Corps (next on our left) but
we miraculously escaped. Not one of the
shell, which struck in our camp, exploded. They
must have been defective. Had they burst, many
a man must have gone to his last account.
A heavy mortar fleet is collecting at Ft. Monroe,
probably to shell out – ostracize – I suppose we might
call it – Fort Darling. I have the shot which
struck so near me, in my tent, and intend sending
it home, if I can. We have also quite a large
pile in front of the Colonel’s tent.
– – – – Capt. – is still seeking to resign, while
our First Lieut. – one of the stoutest looking men in
the regiment a fortnight since – is very low with
intermittent fever, and has applied for a furlough,
and if he cannot get that, will resign. His case
will be the fourth out of our seventeen officers
who has had to leave, on account of health, since
reaching here – all cases where life depended on change
of climate. I have had no feverish symptoms
worth speaking of, and a physician told me yesterday
that experience taught him that heavy smokers were
not troubled by the malaria, which is the cause of
almost all our sickness. The odor from the swamps
about here is at times almost unbearable, but I start
my old pipe at such times, and can’t see a foot for
smoke, and hardly perceive it. I find myself
comparatively very busy since French (our First)
was laid low, as he was a hard-working man.
[transcript by Mary Roy Dawson Edwards]
MSS 5130