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

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