Franklin County: "Colonel Dahlgren Loses Life," by unknown, February 11, 1921
Summary: Reprint of a brief description of an ambush that led to the death of Colonel Dahlgren.
His Ambush Near Richmond While Making an Effort to Rescue the Federal Prisioners on Belle Island
Col. Dahlgren Was the Son of the Admiral of That Name Commanding Off Charleston
Col. Dahlgren
The whole country laments the death of this gallant officer. The reports from the Kilpatrick expedition involved his fate in mystery, but the Richmond papers bear to us the sad intelligence of his death.
He had escaped the toils of the enemy in the immediate vicinity of Richmond-his object having been to rescue the Federal prisoners on Belle Island. This he was unable to accomplish on account of the enemy having received intelligence of his purpose; and he was now on the North bank of the Mattapony River, on his way, to Gloucester Point, excepting soon to be within the Union lines on the Peninsula. He had, with brave followers, met the enemy four times his own number and had routed them. Now, with devilish cunning they set a snare for him. In his front, in a woods, a woods, a body of men were in ambush awaiting his coming. It was midnight. He was riding at the head of his column; silent but watchful. He heard the rustling of leaves, and observing a rebel ordered him to surrender; the enemy fired a volley of bullets into his ranks, and he fell to the ground a lifeless corpse, his body being pierced by five balls. It was not chivalric, but cowardly, like assassins who are afraid to strike in the open day. It was murder. His men scattered; some escaped and some were taken prisoners. But this is not all.-His uniform was stolen and his dead body shrouded in filthy rebel rags. The finger, on which he wore a valuable ring, was cut off. With fiendish delight they say he was brought to the city and buried-"No one knows, or is to know, where." In life, he frightened the whole city, and the officials shook like aspens. Over the death of this single man they sing peans of joy.
[Col. Dahlgren was the son of the Admiral of that name commanding off Charleston. At the breaking out of the war he held a position in the Navy, but upon application he was appointed an Aid in the army, with the rank of Captain. He first served upon the Staff of Gen. Saxton, then upon Gen. Sigel's Staff, and then upon that of Gen. Hooker, in command, of the Army of the Potomac. He performed many acts of daring and gallantry. On one obcasion, in the Fall of 1862, he with less than a full company, made a dash into Fredericksburg, and drove out of the streets of that city a much superior force.]
It was on the morning of July 2nd, 1863, that he first became known to the citizens of Greencastle. With a small band of brave spirits he captured a mail, and picked up prisoners numbering more than his own force. On the morning of the 4th, he appeared again, and attempted to capture another mail. With fifteen men he made a charge down South Carlisle street, driving out fifty four rebel cavalrymen. He stayed with us the whole day and enabled us to enjoy a 4th of July without further further interruption, although the whole rebel army was North and East of us. For weeks we had been under the foot of the tyrant. Column after column of the enemy had marched by, and it seemed as if we would never see the end. How long those weeks seemed. We had lived a lifetime in a few days, so great and marvelous had been the changes and events around and among us. The coming of Dahlgren was the first gleam of the sunshine of hope from under the dark lowering cloud of despotism. How bright and beautiful seemed the blue uniforms how gentlemanly the men were; how, more than ever, were detested the filthy garments and the wretched rebels themselves. Capts. Dahlgren and Cline and Lieut. Whitehead, and their gallant men, were our deliverers. The next morning (Sunday) they made a dash on the rebel wagon train then on the retreat. Monday evening, the 6th, Dahlgren led a force into the streets of that town, right into the centre Hagerstown, and made a brilliant charge through the streets of the town, right into the centre of the rebel army. It was there he was afterwards compelled to suffer amputation. For this instance of his bravery he was appointed by the President, Col. of the Third U.S. Cavalry.
Although very young, being only 22 years of age, he was distinguished in the army of the Potk and was an officer of lofty courage brilliant and dashing, but without weakness; the very soul of honor quiet but firm; not only admired but loved.
"A form more active, bright and strong,
Ne'er shot the ranks of war alon,"
As greatful citizens we can never forget him. Years may pass, but his memory will ever be green in every honest heart.
"They never fail who die in a great cause
And they who for their country
die,
Shall fill an honored grave;
For glory lights the soldier's
tomb
And beauty weeks the brave."
Bibliographic Information: Source copy consulted: Kauffman's Progressive, February 11, 1921
