Showing posts with label Chickens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chickens. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 6, 2024

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Joseph Stockton, November 30, 1862

Sunday morning the regiment was ordered out on grand guard. Went up on hill some two miles from camp—heavy firing heard in the distance—McArthur's division in the advance and the rebels are falling back before him. As I sat on a log this morning about church time I thought of many dear friends wending their way to church and how the church bells were ringing at home, speaking of nothing but peace, while, in dear old St. James, many are listening to the glorious anthems and the litany of the church. I wondered to myself if any there give their thoughts to the absent ones who loved their country better than all the pleasure and comforts of home and are willing to die for it. How different here; everything speaks of war and desolation—foraging wagon trains constantly coming in, bringing cattle, pigs, chickens, turkeys, everything they can lay their hands on. On the other side of the creek are regiments marching forward, their colors flying, bands playing, men chewing, while in the distance is the sound of McArthur's guns or rebel ones returning their fire. I would not be in Chicago if I could.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 5

Wednesday, February 21, 2024

Diary of Musician David Lane, September 21, 1862

Maryland Heights, Va., September 21st, 1862.

Toward evening of the 13th we left Frederic City and marched out on the National Turnpike toward South Mountain, and halted for supper and a few hours rest near Middleton. It was nearly midnight. We had made a rapid march of several miles, and were tired, and hungry as wolves. Hardly had we stacked arms when Lieutenant Rath inquired: "Where's John Conley?" John could not be found; he was already off on an expedition of his own. "Well, then," said Rath, "send me the next best thief; I want a chicken for my supper."

Our foragers soon returned; the Lieutenant got his chicken, and we privates were fairly well supplied with the products of the country. It strikes me as a little strange, the facility with which a soldier learns to steal his grub. It must be the effect of heredity. Perhaps, in the dim past, when our ancestors went on "all fours," and roamed the forests in search of food; possibly at a more recent date, but before a name was given to the deed; they formed the habit of taking what they wanted wherever it could be found, provided they had the physical power, or mental cunning, to accomplish it, and this habit, thus formed, became instinct, and was transmitted to their descendants. At daylight we were on the move, headed for South Mountain. We had an inkling—how obtained I do not know; mental telepathy, perhaps, that occult, mysterious power that enables us to divine the most secret thoughts of men-that a mass meeting was to be held on that eminence to discuss the pros and cons of secession, and that we, the Seventeenth, had received a pressing invitation to be present. The Pike was in fine condition. Our men stepped off briskly, with long, swinging strides that carried them rapidly over the ground. We marched in four ranks, by companies, and were led by our gallant Colonel Withington. Company G was seventh from the front, which gave me a view of over half the regiment. And it was good to look upon. Only two weeks from home, our uniforms were untarnished. Dress coats buttoned to the chin; upon our heads a high-crowned hat with a feather stuck jauntily on one side. White gloves in our pockets; a wonder we did not put them on, so little know we of the etiquette of war.

As we neared the mountain, about nine o'clock in the morning, I scanned its rugged sides for indications of the presence of our friends, the enemy, and, as I looked, I saw a puff of smoke, and on the instant a shell sped howling above our heads, bursting some half a mile beyond.

Every man of us "bowed his acknowledgments;" then, as by one impulse, every spine became rigid; every head was tossed in air; as if we would say: "My Southern friend, we did the polite thing that time. No more concessions will you get from us and—may God have mercy on your souls." Of our exploits on South Mountain I will not write. They will be woven into history and will be within the reach of all. About thirty of our brave boys were killed, and over one hundred wounded. Captain Goldsmith was wounded in the shoulder and Lieutenant Somers in the side. A number of Company G boys were wounded, but none were killed in this battle.

Eli Sears, the best, the most universally beloved of the regiment, is dead. He died the second day after the battle. A rifle ball, early in the engagement, struck him in the left breast and passed entirely through him. When I saw him he was so low he could only speak in whispers. He gave me his hand, with a pleasant smile, and told me he had but a few more hours to live. Bitterly do I mourn his loss. So kind, so thoughtful, always preferring another to himself. He died as heroes die, as calm and peaceful as an infant on its mother's breast. Albert Allen, Carmi Boice and Charlie Goodall were in the thickest of the fight and escaped unhurt.

The Seventeenth has been baptised in blood and christened "Stonewall." The battle of Antietam was fought on Wednesday, September 17th, three days after South Mountain. The Seventeenth did not lose so many in killed—eighteen or twenty, I think, although the list is not yet made out—and eighty or ninety wounded. Company G lost three killed, among whom was Anson Darling. We crossed the Antietam River about 1 p. m., and about three o'clock charged up the heights, which we carried, and advanced to near Sharpsburg. Here, our ammunition giving out, we fell back behind the hill and quietly sat down ’mid bursting shells and hurtling balls until relieved. As we sat waiting, a spent ball—a six-pounder—struck a tree in front of us. Not having sufficient momentum to penetrate, it dropped back upon the toe of my comrade on my left. With a fierce oath he sprang to his feet and shouted, "Who the h--l? Oh!"

That night, while on picket, when all my comrades were wrapped in slumber, and silence reigned where, a few hours before, the tumult of battle raged, my willing thought turned to my Northern home. The most vivid pictures arose before me—so real—could they be imagination? And as I gazed upon these fancied visions and pressed them to my soul as a living reality, I asked myself the question, "Can this be homesickness?" The answer came, quick and decisive: No; I have never seen the time—even for one short moment—that I could say to myself, “If I had not enlisted, I would not." On the contrary, if, after the little experience I have had, and the little knowledge I have gained, I had not enlisted, I would do so within the hour.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 10-13

Friday, February 2, 2024

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Saturday, August 24 & Sunday, August 25, 1861

Quiet. Great slaughter amongst turkeys and chickens!

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 18

Sunday, January 28, 2024

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, February 22, 1863

Last night we tied up at the mouth of Red river, and this morning found our boat aground; but, after several hours' work, got her safely off and proceeded a few miles up stream, when we tied up again to take on wood and allow the men to cook. In a short time, the crew had stolen all the chickens in the neighborhood. The New Orleans Rats, of which this command is mainly composed, can beat the world stealing. [What say you, Rats?] I saw several coming in with honey and the bees swarming around it. During our memorable "big drunk" mentioned on a previous page, some one, more drunk than economical, threw away his shoes, and, on waking the next morning and finding himself minus this important article of dress, had to go bare-foot or steal from his neighbor. The latter plan suited his inclination, and the consequence was, a man in a different company was found to be shoeless and the thief with a tolerable pair of boots on. So it goes one man is bare-foot all the time, but a different man every day.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 66

Sunday, October 29, 2023

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday Afternoon, August 21, 1864

Six companies of the Seventh, and six companies of the Fiftieth Illinois Infantry, under the command of Colonel Rowett, leave Rome on a scout. We march about nine miles out on the Kingston road and go into camp for the night. Hogs, chickens, roasting-ears and fruit abound in abundance. We live high to-night. After all is quiet in camp, scouts are sent out to see if they cannot discover something hostile said to be threatening these parts.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 249

Sunday, May 7, 2023

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: March 21, 1864

We again receive marching orders; Forrest said to be crossing the Tennessee at Eastport. We are ordered to reconnoiter. Oh! how sleepy the soldiers become; some fall off of their mules while riding along the road. About two o'clock, A. M., we come to a halt at Lawrenceburg, and feed and lay down to sleep, but very little do we obtain, for at day-light the bugle blows. The command is divided. Companies H and F, commanded by Captain Ring, proceed to Waynesboro; nothing hostile here. The report that Forrest was crossing the Tennessee has proved to have been only an idle rumor. We go into camp for the night. We feast to-night upon chickens, ham and honey. A scout is sent to Clifton, Tennessee river, this evening, to see and learn what he can about the movements of Forrest.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 228-9

Monday, March 20, 2023

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, [March 15, 1863]—Evening

Evening.

About six, the Burnside came down the river with horses, hogs, chickens and prisoners. They took Col. Bryant, just as he returned to his plantation after running his negroes into the back country. They report great quantities of cotton and cattle up the river, so I hope we really are to have fresh beef again.

It is nothing like as damp and unwholesome here as in South Carolina. The same amount of exposure there that our men have had here, would have given the hospital twenty or thirty cases of pleurisy and pneumonia, while today, we have but a single case of acute inflammation. There is coughing enough to keep back several rebel regiments. I see no reason, however, why the officers should not get intermittent fever from this handsome river, by and by. It looks as if midsummer might load it with miasma and alligators. . . .

I am gradually confiscating furniture for my spacious chamber in the best house of a beautiful town, as if it were my final residence. I enjoy the long cedar closet that opens out of my room. The fragrance is so sweet I cannot understand why moths object to it. having a perfect bath room, without any water in it and costly gas fixtures without any gas! The war has greatly deranged the machinery of this town. Almost everywhere, except in this house, I have found the lead pipes cut by the rebels and used, I suppose, for bullets. When Colonel Sanderson left here he placed his house in charge of a Union man, saying that it would naturally be the headquarters of any Union commander. Hence the more perfect preservation of the property.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 375-6

Thursday, February 23, 2023

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Wednesday, December 2, 1863

Early this morning we are on the road leading towards Pulaski, Tennessee. When within twelve miles of Pulaski we go into camp; we have honey, chickens and hams in abundance to-night. The boys are cheerful.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 211

Thursday, November 24, 2022

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Saturday, November 21, 1863

Again rumors are verified. Pursuant to order, the regiment moves from Pulaski this morning with three days' rations. It is said we are bound for Corinth, Mississippi, to look after the camp and garrison equipage belonging to the Second Division. After travelling thirty miles, we go into camp at Lexington, Alabama. As usual the regiment forages, and chickens still continue to fall victims to the Seventh. We have a good supper to-night; such as soldiers enjoy.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 207-8

Friday, September 2, 2022

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 17, 1864

Bright and dry.

The demonstration of the enemy yesterday, on both sides of the river, was merely reconnoissances. Our pickets were driven in, but were soon re-established in their former positions.

The Secretary of War is now reaping plaudits from his friends, who are permitted to bring flour enough from the Valley to subsist their families twelve months. The poor men in the army (the rich are not in it) can get nothing for their families, and there is a prospect of their starving.

Gen. Hood is a prophet. I saw a letter from him, to-day, to the President, opposing Gen. Morgan's last raid into Kentucky: predicting that if he returned at all, it would be with a demoralized handful of men—which turned out to be the case. He said if Morgan had been with Gen. Jones in the Valley, we might not have been compelled to confess a defeat, and lament the loss of a fine officer.

They do not take Confederate notes in the Valley, but sell flour for $8 per barrel in gold, which is equal to $200 in paper; and it costs nearly $100 to bring it here. Chickens are selling in market for $7 each, paper, or 37½ cents, specie.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 284

Wednesday, August 31, 2022

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Monday, November 9, 1863

The regiment is to-day divided into detachments and ordered to move on different roads on both flanks of the army. About noon the detachment which we accompany arrives at Baily Springs, one of chivalry's fashionable resorts. But we find none of her devotees pacing the building's dim corridors. War's stern voice has called them away. The springs are beautiful, sparkling with nature's purest liquid-dashing in playful sprays from granite rock. The weary soldiers love so well to linger here-love to kneel at the healing fountain. After feeding we move on our way. Before entering the main road three men from the detachment stop to do some foraging, but the chickens are difficult to capture, making strenuous efforts when pursued by a yankee. The lady of the house comes to the door and smiling sweetly says: “Soldiers, there's my little dog, he can catch them for you." "Thank you, madam, we don't want your chickens,” replied Sergeant Hackney, of Company H, and the soldiers make their exit. How well did that woman know where man was weak. The column is now moving on the old “military road.” The main body of the Seventh is now on the left flank. Striking out through the woods and brush we come up with the regiment about 4 P. M. We go into camp at 8 P. M.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 204-5

Sunday, May 1, 2022

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: August 1, 1863

The advance is now passing our regiment. It falls to our lot to be in the rear to-day. Soon we are all in the saddle and on the road. At noon we halt on one of Tennessee's large plantations to feed and eat our dinners. The corn pens are now mounted, the garden fence is scaled, the smoke-house entered; the hams are going, the turkeys are running and chickens squalling. Passing through the yard, a fair one approaches us and enquires for the chief commander. Of course we didn't know, and no one could be found who did; but when she discovered the corn pen rapidly diminishing for the benefit of Rowett's two thousand mules, that the boys in blue were stern and determined, and that her artful persuasion proved of no avail, she seemed to resign calmly to the "fates," and commenced to talk quietly to the soldiers. She said she loved the South, her heart was with it in its struggle; that she had two brothers who were officers in the Confederate army, and that she was glad of it. But she could not bear to be called a rebel. Says she: “Call me not a rebel, but a confederate.” After dinner we proceed on our way, cross the Mobile and Ohio Railroad, and camp on the road leading to Lexington.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 186

Sunday, April 3, 2022

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Friday, July 31, 1863

After traveling briskly all morning we arrive at Trenton on the Mobile and Ohio Railroad. We notice that here too war's scourge has been felt. We press on through and take the road leading to Jackson; about three miles from Jackson we pass Hatch's command. We halt at Gibson, feed, and eat our dinner; we will remain here all day. Hatch is now moving on towards Humboldt. To-day the regiment forages extensively; horses and mules are eagerly sought after by the Seventh, and the consequence is that the regiment is becoming well mounted. Companies and squads are being sent out all day. It is impossible for us to narrate the experience of all these scouting parties, as we could only accompany one. We follow a detail of ten men this evening, traveling about six miles, and succeed in capturing two fine mules; one from a negro who was, by the direction of his master, making his way to the brush. Cuffee, “smiling approvingly," says “De massa Yankee who ride dat mule will be well fixed.” It is now near sun-down and we are six miles from camp; but some forage, chickens, &c., we must have. Stopping at a plantation, we make a draw and get a sack full of pullets, a few hams, &c. It is now dark and we must hasten; but going a short distance a sable friend informs us where we can get another mule. Two men are sent to obtain the mule, and the remainder push on towards camp. We are now on a strange road; the night is dark, but on we go, and after traveling about four miles through the dense woods, we strike the Jackson road at Gibson. “Halt! who comes ere?” breaks upon our ears. “Who challenges?” we reply. "Be it known that we are the invincibles, representatives from the Kansas Jayhawkers. Give us your character?” “We are raiders from Rowett's command.” “Roddy's command!” Click, click in quick succession the triggers go. “D--n you, not Roddy's, but Rowett's command," cried one of our men. “All right, brother crampers, pass on.” We soon arrive in camp. The boys now make preparations to skin some chickens; all anticipate a good supper, but when we come to look for the pullets they are not to be found. The truth soon flashes upon us that R. J. ——became frightened in the dense woods and threw them away. Dear reader, imagine our disappointment. It is useless to say that R. J. —— didn't rest much that night.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 184-6

Tuesday, March 1, 2022

Diary of Private Louis Leon: February 6, 1863

Nothing to eat yet. Wortheim, W. Eagle and myself went out foraging, to buy something to eat. We got to one house and there was no one at home, but in the yard there were two chickens, which we captured, for we were afraid they would bite us.

We went to the next house and ate our breakfast. One of the ladies asked us where we got those chickens. I told her that we bought them at the house before we got there. She told us she lived there and that there was nobody at home. I then told her the truth, paid her for them and left. The next house we got to we bought a ham, a peck of meal, a peck of sweet potatoes and some turnips. We took dinner in this house. We then returned to camp. We had a good reception from our mess, as they had still nothing to eat.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 16

Saturday, February 26, 2022

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: July 31, 1864

Clear, dry, and hot.

A dispatch from Gen. Lee (I have not seen it yet) says, in the repulse of the enemy's assault on the breach made by their mine, we captured over 800 prisoners—a general and his staff among them—some 12 stands of colors, and killed some 500. Our loss very light.

The enemy has mostly countermarched from this side of the river, followed, of course, by our army at double-quick, and rumor says there are little or no forces of either party on the north side of the James this morning.

This was probably Grant's grand stratagem for our destruction, and it has failed disastrously for him. What will he do next? No matter what, Lee is the master of the situation.

My daughter's large pet cat died last night under the cherry-tree, and was buried this morning under a rose-bush. I sympathize with Fannie in the grief natural on such an occasion; but really, the death of the cat in such times as these is a great relief to me, as he was maintained at the cost of not less than $200 per annum. His death was probably occasioned by a surfeit of meat which his mistress obtained unexpectedly, seeing it fall in the street, and sending a servant for it.

This morning a large fat chicken was found in my yard, picked and prepared for cooking, brought hither by a cat which had stolen it from some kitchen. A portion of the breast only had been eaten, and our cook seized upon the remains for her own benefit. To such straits are we reduced by this cruel war!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 258

Sunday, January 23, 2022

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Thursday, May 14, 1863

This morning we take the train for Bethel, and in about one hour we arrive at this outpost and are conducted to the barracks lately vacated by the Forty-third Ohio. We find the Seventh Iowa stationed here, who very cordially welcome the Seventh Illinois as their “Brother Crampers.” The two Sevenths soon come to a mutual conclusion that they can run this part of the line and impart general satisfaction to all concerned. It is said that smiles are not wanting for the “vandals” in these parts. In the afternoon the regiment is paraded to receive Adjutant General Thomas, who is expected to arrive on the afternoon train. After his arrival and reception by the troops, he addresses us for a short time upon the issues growing out of the emancipation proclamation, and then proceeds on his way towards Corinth.

We remain at Bethel from the fourteenth of May until June 7th, 1863. The Seventh will long remember Bethel and Henderson, Tennessee. How they stood picket; how they patroled the railroad; how they drilled; how they run the lines and sallied forth into the country; how they mingled with the chivalry and partook of their hospitality; how they sat down and talked with the beautiful, and how they listened to their music, “Bonnie Blue Flag” and “Belmont;" how the citizens flocked to our lines; how the boys traded “Scotch snuff” to the gentle ones for chickens, butter and eggs. Yes, Bethel and Henderson will long live on memory's page.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 170-1

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, June 28, 1863

This morning companies F, G, H, I and K, mounted and equipped, under the command of Colonel Rowett leave Corinth. We move out on the Purdy road; our mules travel finely; at noon we halt and feed our mules out of a rebel wheat field, after which we pass on through Purdy. This town shows marks of change since we last passed through it. War's scourge has been felt here; some of the finest mansions have been laid in ruins, which is the legitimate vengeance of the loyal Tennessee cavalry. Passing on some miles farther, we are informed by our guide, Captain Aldridge, a loyal Tennesseean, that we are now two miles from Colonel Horton's, one of the guerrilla leaders of West Tennessee, and that in all probability he is now at home; therefore, Colonel Rowett, with an intent if possible to capture him, makes a disposition of the companies, directing them to file around in different directions and surround his house. The house is circumvented, but no Horton can be found. It is night now, and we go into camp on the plantation; a descent is made upon the corn pens, and also on the garden and chickens. These proceedings, of course, embitter the family against the soldiers. The old lady's ever ready weapon is soon plying; she talks bitterly, using the words "vandals," "ruffians,” and “black abolitionists,” freely. Finding that her invective tongue proves powerless, she gathers a hoe, attacks the men, and of course drives them from the yard ; then commences on the mules tied to the yard fence and after beating them awhile and seeing Colonel Rowett passing through the yard, she makes an assault upon him, attacking him simultaneously with her hoe and wrathful invectives. “You the leader of these vandals, clear out of my yard.” The affable Colonel soon succeeded in quieting her, and we believe he succeeded in persuading the old lady to give him his supper. After the camp fires had gone out, a company of volunteers, under the command of Captain Clark, of Company D, are sent out, and guided by Captain Aldridge, they visit every guerrilla house in the country and succeed in capturing a Captain from Bragg's army.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 174-6

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: June 29, 1863

This morning the command proceeds on to Cotton Ridge, where it is joined by Captains Clark and Aldridge, who were sent out last night on the hunt of guerrillas. From this ridge we move in the direction of the Mobile and Ohio Railroad. In the evening we strike the railroad at Henderson, but no guerrillas are found, all having fled to the woods. The command goes into camp on a plantation near Henderson. We fare sumptuously to-night; hen-roosts and potato patches at our disposal. We sleep in an old cotton gin; the cotton is strewn everywhere to make beds.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 176

Tuesday, August 17, 2021

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, January 20, 1863

The troops still continue foraging, and in consequence the country has well nigh become impoverished, almost everything in the line of subsistence having been confiscated. But occasionally a hog, goose, or chicken ventures from some hiding place and falls a prey to the “inveterate Yankees." Good news! the P. M. informs us that the train has brought the mail. At last it is distributed, and how eagerly the soldiers peruse the little white sheets. Could our friends but know how much good a letter does a soldier, they would drift to him "like dew-drops from heaven”—that is, letters of cheering words. They make us better soldiers too. We get the blues sometimes, and feel like going to the dogs. Perhaps we are worn out with duty, are all wet and muddy and the wind changes right into our eyes; and then the coffee is bad; and the crackers are worse, and all this when we are as hungry as wolves. But the mail-boy comes, and hands us a letter—a good long letter from home, or some one else, we won't say who—we are not tired now; the fire has ceased smoking; the coffee is pronounced good; the old musty crackers are decidedly better, and everything glides on smoothly with us.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 132-3

Tuesday, August 3, 2021

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Monday, December 22, 1862

This morning General Dodge discovers that the enemy has evaded him by withdrawing hastily from Jackson and his advance. The command being nearly all foot-sore from hard marching, the General finding it impossible to pursue the enemy any farther, takes the head of the column, and leads towards Henderson, Tennessee, a station on the Mobile & Ohio Railroad, twenty-five miles distant. We make a hard day's march, and go into camp for the night, five miles from Henderson. Notwithstanding the soldiers are weary and foot-sore, they will forage—will trespass upon plantations—will enter smoke-houses—make raids upon hen-roosts, and demonstrations in barn-yards, much to the discomfiture of the presumingly innocent natives, whose maledictions are no doubt falling fast upon the heads of the “invaders.” From the superabundance of chickens and geese heads strewn around in the Seventh's camp, we are forced to conclude that they have a just cause for giving vent to their aggravated feelings.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 124