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
