Diary of 1st Lieutenant Daniel L. Ambrose: December 13, 1864

With but short intervals, Slocum's guns have been heard all day. About three o'clock in the evening we hear to our right a sullen roar, a desperate crash, a whoop, and all is over; and soon we are told that Fort McAllister has fallen; that the immortal Hazen, Ohio's ideal son, has planted his battle-flag upon the ramparts there, making free our passage to the sea, and now we hope to receive supplies, as we have access to the fleet anchored in Ossabaw Sound. This evening Captain Ed. R. Roberts of Company C, makes his appearance in camp, after an imprisonment of seven months in the southern prison hells. The reader will remember that Captain Roberts, together with Captain McGuire, Lieutenant Fergus, and about thirty of the men, were captured on the seventh of May, 1864, in our encounter with Roddy and Johnson at Florence, Alabama. The captain has now a large crowd of the Seventh congregated around him, listening attentively to his heart-rending stories of rebel cruelty. We will now follow Captains Roberts and McGuire and Lieutenant Fergus during their wanderings in the land of their captivity. After their capture at Florence, Alabama, on the 7th of May 1864, they, in company with the men, were taken via Mobile and Montgomery, Alabama to Macon, Georgia, where they arrived May 28th. As soon as they entered the stockade Roberts washed his shirt, and after wringing it out, approached the picket fence immediately inside of the stockade to hang it thereon to dry, and just as he was about to touch the fence he was pulled back by a comrade who saved his life-saved him from being cruelly murdered; for it was the dead line he was about to touch, a line upon which many a noble patriot Union soldier poured out his life blood. At one time while here they were compelled to be two and a half days without anything to eat. After remaining in the Macon stockade for some time the officers were separated from the men, and transferred to the city work-house and jail at Charleston, South Carolina, and while here they were continually under the fire of Gilmore's guns. On the 5th of October they were all moved to Columbia, South Carolina, with the exception of those who were sick, among which number was the gallant Lieutenant Fergus, who was suffering with the yellow fever. After long weary months of suffering known only to those who were the sufferers, Captain Roberts and a number of other officers made their escape from those wicked men who sought their lives. The story of the Captain's march from bondage to liberty would alone fill a good sized volume. Guided by the trusty negroes they traveled one hundred and eighty miles in ten nights, (lying in the swamps by day) and reached Sherman's army, seventy miles above Savannah, Georgia, December 5th.

The Captain remained with Kilpatrick's cavalry until the 12th of November, when he joined his regiment and company. Brave, self-sacrificing soldier, the story of your trials, the longings that were yours, the revolting scenes that met your eyes, and the feeling of joy that came to your heart when your eyes fell upon the old flag, will never be known to any save those who experienced like trials, who witnessed like scenes and felt like joys. We now think of those of our number who are yet suffering in southern prison pens, and we are informed that some of them have been freed from their suffering, have been starved, have been murdered. It cannot be that these brave men's sufferings and sorrows which they endured in this land of cruel wrongs will not be righted in the world beyond the stars. We could not believe in a heaven if we should lose the faith that these men's wrongs will be made right above.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 284-6

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Daniel L. Ambrose: December 20, 1864

After the fall of Fort McAllister, we obtain some supplies, but for the seventy thousand hungry soldiers they soon run out. For the last week the troops have been subsisting upon corn and rice, the rice being obtained from the shocks in the swamps, and hulled out by the soldiers. Everything in the country for fifty miles around has been foraged. The army is still investing Savannah—the siege still going on. It will be over soon however, as a great battle will be fought where Count Pulaski's Monument stands; for Sherman's army is now in a good condition to sweep Savannah from the earth. The next forty-eight hours will tell the tale.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 286

Diary of Sergeant Daniel L. Ambrose: October 3 – November 10, 1864

From October 3d to November 10th Sherman's army was continually marching, manoeuvering and skirmishing. The battle of Allatoona had been fought, the pass had been defended, the mad men who rushed up those rugged hills had been hurled back, the army of Georgia and Tennessee had been saved by the handful of men who stood there facing the grim monster as man never before had stood, and November 11th we find the armies commanded by General Sherman in the vicinity of Rome and Kingston. Hood was far to the northward. Sherman says: "He may push on his conquests; I will leave Thomas to confront him. I will enter the heart of the Confederacy. I will visit the South with war's stern realities."

Orderlies and aids are dashing hither and thither. The order has been given. Hark! We hear the drum and the bugle, as if to say "Up boys and be ready, for Sherman is going to make a great stride in the South-land." The Seventh is now ready, shod and equipped, and in the evening, under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Hector Perrin, we move from Rome about six miles and go into camp.

Rome is now burning, and to-night innocence, beautiful innocence is crying, all because its brothers rebelled; because they leaped from liberty's lap and struck the flag and swore this Union to divide, and her name and her glories to blacken.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 273-4

Diary of Malvina S. Waring, February 6, 1865

Columbia, S. C.—This wild talk about the Federal Army and what it's going to do is all nonsense. Coming here! Sherman! Why not say he's going to Paramaribo? One is about as likely as the other, notwithstanding that papa shakes his head so solemnly over it, and mamma looks so grave. He is always shaking his head over something, it seems to me, and she forever looking grave. I do hope I shall be able to get around being old, somehow. Old people's weather is all bad weather; their horoscope all background; their expectation all disappointment; their probabilities all failures. No doubt I am foolish—mamma says I am—but there's a certain satisfaction in being young and foolish rather than old and wise.

SOURCE: South Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate Girl's Diary,” p. 272

Diary of Malvina S. Waring, Monday, February 13, 1865

We were greatly startled yesterday by the firing of cannon in the upper part of the city. It proved to be a call for Colonel Thomas' Regiment of Reserves. I am sorry the weather is so cold. Our ill-clothed, ill-fed troops must suffer acutely in such bitter weather. Today I accompanied my mother to the Wayside Hospital, carrying some jelly and wafers for the sick. One of the inmates, a convalescent soldier, played with much taste and skill on the banjo. Came home to find my father much excited about me, having heard Mayor Goodwyn say that he has no hope at all of holding the city. And my father does not consider the track of a great army the safest place for young women; hence he wants me to leave; go; get out of the way! But where? Where shall I fly from Sherman's army?

SOURCE: South Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate Girl's Diary,” p. 274

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, June 21, 1864

We are now camped upon the banks of Chicamauga, a name that has gone to history inscribed with deeds of blood. This evening companies D, H and I receive marching orders, and under the command of Lieutenant Sullivan of company I, (the captains of companies having been left back at Athens to settle their mule accounts with the A. Q. M,) we now move down the railroad. We stop and draw rations at Ringgold, after which we move on about two miles and go into camp for the night. The country every where along the railroad is all desolated. Trains pass up this evening from Atlanta loaded with wounded soldiers from Sherman's army, which tell us that there has been a fearful work of blood down there.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 246

Lieutenant-General William T. Sherman to Senator John Sherman, December 30, 1866

ST. LOUIS, Sunday, Dec. 30, 1866.

Dear Brother: I came up from New Orleans right through the country that I had been the means of raiding so thoroughly, and did not know but I should hear some things that would not be pleasant, but, on the contrary, many people met me all along the road in the most friendly spirit. I spent a whole day at Jackson, where chimney stacks and broken railroads marked the presence of Sherman's army. But all sorts of people pressed to see me, and evinced their natural curiosity, nothing more. . . .

I expect to have two Indian wars on my hands, and have no time for other things. The Sioux and Cheyennes are now so circumscribed that I suppose they must be exterminated, for they cannot and will not settle down, and our people will force us to it. It will also call for all possible prudence to keep us from war with the Mormons, for there are people that yearn for the farms and property the Mormons have created in the wilderness.

I have a despatch from Mr. Stanton, saying that my action in the delicate mission to Mexico meets the approval of the President, the Cabinet, and himself, so I got out of that scrape easily. I do not want to come to Washington, but to stay here quietly as long as possible. When Grant goes to Europe, then I shall be forced to come. The longer that is deferred the better for me. Affectionately,

W. T. SHERMAN.

SOURCE: Rachel Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, p. 287

Diary of Gideon Welles: Thursday, May 18, 1865

Notice is given to-day of a grand parade of the armies of the Potomac, of the Tennessee, and Georgia, etc., etc., to take place on Tuesday and Wednesday next. This interferes with our proposed trip, which has so often been deferred. But there is no alternative. It will not do to be absent on such an historic occasion.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 2: April 1, 1864 — December 31, 1866, p. 307

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: July 4, 1863

Early this morning the stillness is interrupted by the national salute, for it is the eighty-seventh anniversary of the nation's birth. The day passes by pleasantly without any demonstration. During the evening it is surmised that Grant and his army have, with imposing grandeur, celebrated the day. Vague rumors are on the wing this evening that Grant to-day has made another successful swing; that Vicksburg has fallen.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 177

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: July 6, 1863

Full reports come to-day from Vicksburg; how the news cheers the soldiers. Loud shouts are heard everywhere; the Seventh feels proud to know that their history is identified with Grant and the army of the Tennessee.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 177

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: July 8, 1864

Clear; hot and dusty.

The news of the falling back of Gen. Johnston on Atlanta, Ga., causes no uneasiness, for the destruction of Sherman's army is deemed the more certain the farther he penetrates.

There is nothing of interest from Petersburg, but there are rumors of demoralization and disaffection in Grant's army. His men suffer for water.

Still we get no letters from the South, beyond the point on the Danville Railroad reached by the raiders, who tore up 18 miles of the track.

We have nothing definite from Early's column yet, but no doubt there is alarm enough in Pennsylvania and in Washington City by this time.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 246

Major-General Ulysses S. Grant: Special Orders, No. 143, May 28, 1863

SPECIAL ORDERS, No. 143.}

HDQRS. DEPT. OF THE TENNESSEE,        

In Field, near Vicksburg, Miss., May 28, 1863.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

IV. Army corps commanders and commanders of detached forces before Vicksburg will picket all roads, respectively, in rear of their respective positions, by which their camps or the city of Vicksburg can be approached, and prohibit all persons coming into or going out of our lines without special authority from the corps of commanders of detached forces whose pickets they desire to pass or the authority of the general commanding, The pickets will be placed sufficiently far out as to prevent sunrise from any raid the enemy may attempt to make, and each commander will notify the others of the position of his pickets.

V. All that portion of the State of Louisiana now in the occupancy of the Army of the Tennessee will constitute the District of Northeastern Louisiana, and be commanded by Brig. Gen. J. C. Sullivan. During the absence of Brig. Gen. J. P. Hawkins, all troops of African descent in the District of Northeastern Louisiana will be under the immediate command of Col. Isaac F. Shepard.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

By order of Maj. Gen. U.S. Grant:

[JNO. A. RAWLINS,]        

Assistant Adjutant-General.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 24, Part 3 (Serial No. 38), p. 356-7

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 25, 1864

Sunshine and showers.

Custis is back again, the battalion of clerks being relieved, after three weeks' service in the field.

Yesterday there was skirmishing between the armies, near Hanover Junction-25 miles distant from the city.

Nothing of importance from the south side. But our ironclads are certainly going down the river—they say.

To-day it is thought a battle commenced between Lee and Grant. It will be, perhaps, a decisive engagement, whenever it does take place. And yet there is no trepidation in the community; no apparent fear of defeat. Still, there is some degree of feverish anxiety, as Lee retires nearer to the capital followed by the enemy. A little delay would make us stronger, as reinforcements, especially of cavalry, are daily arriving. The trains run from the city to Lee's headquarters in one hour and a half.

A letter from Senator Henry, of Tennessee, to the Secretary, suggests that Forrest's cavalry be now sent to the rear of Sherman's army in Georgia, to cut off his supplies, etc., resulting in his destruction. Perhaps this is the purpose. And Lee may have some such design. A few days will develop important events. May they put an end to this desolating war.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 218-9

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, May 18, 1862

This morning we form our line and commence throwing up breastworks. The men work with a gusto, and before night the Seventh has a strong line thrown up, covering its front. It is remarkable to see how, like magic, these lines go up. In a few hours we have a line fifteen miles long, strong enough (with the army of the Tennessee behine it,) to check the most powerful army in the world. Lieutenant Colonel Rowett having recovered from the injuries received at Shiloh, has returned to the regiment. All seem glad to see him with us again.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 72

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: May 5, 1862

The artillery is coming up all day. Halleck is moving slowly with his grand army. Would that Grant would be permitted to swing it; there would soon be a commotion among these tall pines. The whining and whelping would-be military masters and generals, whose wisdom is distilled out at wholesale in the bar-rooms of Northern hotels, have clamored against Grant, and since the dark days of Shiloh the army of the Tennessee, who bravely stood with him there, has been grieved to know that the government listened to those base, unmitigated lies told about him in reference to his conduct at Shiloh. We see that this contemptible and cowardly bar-room gentry charge our General with being drunk on Sunday at Shiloh. Tell it to the world, but tell it not to the army of the Tennessee. If a General, drunk, can form, amid such confusion, a line so compact, so powerful, so military as was Grant's last line on Sunday evening, would to God that more Generals were made drunk that we might crush out this fratricidal war and hasten the return of peace to a stricken and throbbing people.

 “But mark my word, boys," old U. S. will yet ride these men's wicked opposition, and ere this war is over, this man wearing the old slouch hat, commanding the army before Corinth, will receive orders from General Grant; for with Grant at the head of this grand army, he would stamp armies into the earth, and plant the old flag where the gulf winds blow.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 68-9

Captain Charles Wright Wills: November 23, 1864

Near Gordon, November 23, 1864.

Came here to-day, about eight miles, find the Army of the Tennessee all here. Have heard nothing of the Rebels to-day; saw ice one and one-half inches thick that formed last night. Wore my overcoat all day. The left wing is either at Milledgeville or gone on east. A branch road runs up to the Capitol from the Macon and Savannah railroad, leaving it at Gordon. It is now all destroyed. This road is very easily destroyed. The iron is laid on stringers, which are only fastened to the ties with wooden pins. We have yet done nothing at it, but boys who have, say they pry up one stringer with the iron on it, roll it over to the other half of the track, lay some rails on, and fire it. The iron being firmly fastened to the stringer, expanding under the heat destroys it completely. The country here is quite rolling, not quite as rich as the Indian Spring country, but there is yet plenty of forage. The woods are mostly pine, and we are all most anxious to get where we will have some other fuel. The smoke of pine wood is so disagreeable.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 324-5

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, April 6, 1862

It is now move ing [sic]—a beautiful Sabbath morning. The dews have gone to heaven and the stars have gone to God; the sky is all inlaid with crimson, far away to the east. From behind the eastern hills the sun is peering; it is moving on its path. But ere it has long illumed the sky, war's dread tocsin is heard; the sullen roar of artillery breaks upon our ears, telling to us that the storm-king of battle would ride upon the banks of the Tennessee to-day. The army of the Tennessee springs to arms to meet the advancing columns of Albert Sidney Johnson. The pennons are now flying. Major Rowett and the Seventh are quickly buckled for the conflict. Her old, tattered and shot-riven flag goes flying through the woods, and the regiment is soon in the conflict. Their position is now behind a rail fence. Oh! the angry tempest that rolls around here! Belching cannons, shotted to the muzzle, are now plowing deep lanes in the Union ranks. How can we describe the sound of a storm of grape and canister, cutting their hellish paths through serried ranks of human beings. It is impossible. Many are the storms flying around the Seventh now. Thicker and faster they come, but those noble men who bore that riddled flag over Fort Donelson's walls, struggle on. Many have breathed quickly, and, trampled under their comrades' feet, have rolled in bloody agonies and now lie in quiet eternal slumber. The mighty armies are now struggling—struggling desperately for the life or death of a nation.

Fiercer and fiercer rages the battle. The great Grant is moving on the field with a mighty power. But fearful odds are against us, and the army of the Tennessee is compelled to yield position after position. The Seventh has been forced to yield many points to-day; at one time being so far in the advance, we were left without support, and had it not been for the quick perception of our gallant Major, we would have been cut off and captured. Forming columns by divisions, we retreated from our critical position, and were compelled to fall back across an open field. It was a trying time. The harsh, fierce barking of the dogs of war made the earth tremble, as if in the midst of a convulsion. But there was no confusion in the Seventh-no panic there. Led by the brave Rowett, they moved firmly, as if to say, that shot-pierced flag, tattered and torn, shall not go down to-day. Major Rowett, with the aid of Captain Monroe, acting Major now form a new line with the Seventh. War's ruthless machine is moving with a relentless force.

It is now past noon. Confusion reigns; brave men are falling like rain drops. All seems dark—seems that the Union army will be crushed by this wild sweep of treason. But on the crippled army of the Tennessee struggles; they still keep the flag up. It is now four o'clock. Step by step the army is being driven back towards the river. The old Union banner seems to be drooping in the wrathful storm, but by an almost superhuman effort the tide is checked. For a while there is a lull in the battle, but only to make preparations for the last desperate assault-an assault in which the enemy expect to see the old flag come down to their feet.

Buell is said to be approaching; he is hourly expected. Grant is now seen moving with a care-worn countenance, He moves amid the carnage to form his last grand line one-fourth mile from the Tennessee, where the advance is now driven. Grant's last line is formed. It is a line of iron, a line of steel, a wall of stout hearts, as firm, as powerful as Napoleon under like reverses ever formed in the days of his imperial power. It seems almost impossible for such a line to be formed at this hour 50 compact. On every available spot of earth an iron-lipped monster frowns. It is a trying moment, for Grant knows and his army knows that should this line be broken, the battle would be lost and the proud flag would be compelled to fall. At half-past four o'clock Grant dashes through the woods. His voice rings out: “They come! they come! Army of the Tennessee stand firm!” A breathless silence pervades these serried ranks, until broken by the deafening crash of artillery. The last desperate struggle on Sunday evening now commences. One hundred brazen guns are carrying terror and death across Shiloh's plain. The Seventh is at its place; every officer and soldier is at his post; Rowett and Monroe are at their stations, now on foot; (Rowett's horse killed in former charge; Monroe's disabled.) All the company officers are in their places, cheering and encouraging their gallant men, and as we gaze upon the bristling bayonets that are gleaming along the Seventh's line, we know that every brawny arm that is beneath them will be bared to shield the old flag. The infantry are clashing now, but this line of stout hearts stands firm. The traitor hosts grow desperate; the earth trembles; the sun is hid behind the wrathful smoke, but amid all the deafening battle elements of the darkened field, the flag and its defenders stand. Down beneath its shadow brave men are falling to close their eyes in glory. The storm still increases in its sweeping power. About five o'clock the issue becomes doubtful; each seems to hold the balance, and like Napoleon at Waterloo, who prayed that night or Blucher would come, so we prayed that night or the army of Ohio would come. About this time, Albert Sidney Johnson poured out his life-blood upon the altar of a vain ambition. At that fatal hour the enemy's lines waver, and the sun goes down with the army of the Tennessee standing victorious on their last great line.

Night comes, and with it Buell comes, but only in time to witness the closing scene on Sunday evening. We thanked God for the arrival of the army of the Ohio, but we never thanked God for Don Carlos Buell when he rode across the Tennessee and spoke lightly of the great Grant, who had successfully stemmed the wildest storm of battle that ever rolled upon the American continent.

The sable curtains have now fallen, closing to our eyes the terrible scene. Soon it commences to rain. Dark, dark night for the army of the Tennessee. Many brave men are sleeping silently. They have fought their last battle. Fearful, desolating war has done a desperate work. Noble men have thrown themselves into the dread ordeal, and passed away. The human pen will fail to picture the battle-field of Shiloh as it presented itself on Sunday night. The Seventh, tired and almost exhausted, drops down on the ground, unmindful of the falling rain, to rest themselves. Ere it was noon some of the Seventh had already lain down to rest, and ere it was night others laid down, but it was an eternal rest-the soldier's last slumber. Disastrous war has wrapped its winding sheet around the cold form of many a fond mother's boy, and before many days there will be weeping in the lonely cottage homes; weeping for the loved and lost who are now sleeping beneath the tall oaks on the banks of the Tennessee. About the noble men of the Seventh who fell to-day, we will speak hereafter; we shall not forget them. How could we forget them, when they have played their part so well in the great tragedy?

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 49-54

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Saturday, March 22, 1862

The fires are burning brightly in our camp this morning. All seem to have more genial looking faces than when on the steamboat. This evening we have dress parade, and as usual a large number of officers and soldiers from the surrounding camps assemble on our parade ground. What is the attraction? Why so many congregated here? inquires a general officer riding by. Those of the army of the Tennessee assembled tell him it is because the Seventh can drill.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 47

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Saturday, April 5, 1862

Nothing of note has occurred to relieve the monotony of camp life. There is now a large army concentrated here. Far away on the hills and in the ravines the tents and the soldiers are seen. Up to this time we have had consid[er]able rain. The roads and by-ways into the camps are cut up terribly. It is with difficulty that the Seventh keeps above mud and water. Vague rumors are afloat this evening to the effect that Albert Sidney Johnson is moving towards the Tennessee with his entire command; however, not much credit is attached to it. But we may anticipate days of desperate strife—days of fire and carnage in Tennessee, for no doubt there has been or is being a concentration of the rebel armies under Johnson and Beauregard, with headquarters at Corinth, Mississippi, twenty-five miles from Pittsburg Landing. Their hopes are no doubt beating high for revenge upon Grant's army, in consideration of the blow wielded against them, in those stormy days of battle around Fort Donelson.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 47-8

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Friday, February 14, 1862

Never was morning light more welcome than this morning's light is to the army of the Tennessee, for with it comes the camp fires. Everywhere, on the hills and in the ravines, their cheering light is seen. But the soldiers are still suffering. Their blankets are frozen, their clothes are wet. They stand everywhere shivering around the camp fires. It is still raining and sleeting, (having changed from sleet and snow). The loyal hearts would start tears of love, could they see how this mighty army is thus standing down on the banks of the Cumberland, with not a murmur heard to escape them. Imagining myself not one of these, but imagining myself disinterested, that I may be freed from accusations of egotism, I would say that manhood stands here—men of fidelity; men of unexampled devotion to the country, the flag and freedom. But how sad the fact to know that there are some who would know it not. Though it is cold, and the winds blow, and the soldiers are suffering, it is not long until the firing commences. We are now in range of the rebel batteries. The cannon balls are flying over our heads, snapping off the tree tops, and performing general havoc in the woods.

We are now remaining at a stand, in rear of the fort, and while here we hear heavy cannonading in the direction of the Cumberland. It is the gun-boats feeling Fort Donelson's strength. The sharp-shooters are doing their work. They greatly annoy the enemy by keeping them from their guns. No general fighting to-day, but the siege goes bravely on.

It is night now. It bids fair to be one of winter's cold, rayless nights; no moon, no stars are seen. Dark, threatening clouds, fling their curtains adown the sky, telling the boys in blue that they will suffer.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 32-3