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 1st Lieutenant Daniel L. Ambrose: between December 22 & 24, 1864

During the siege of Savannah Major Johnson was off on the flanks of the army with the mounted portion of the regiment, scouting, foraging, doing outpost duty, and gathering up stragglers from their commands. After the fall of the city General Corse sends a dispatch ordering him to join his regiment. On the evening of the twenty-second he halts on a plantation near the Ogeechee River, and after camping his men, accompanied by Lieutenant S. F. Flint, he wends his way to the planter's mansion. It is now dark and raining. The Major knocks at the door, and after an assurance of friendship, they are received into the household. Their sabres’ frightful clang grates harshly upon the ears of the inmates—an old man, woman and daughter and for a while they seem frightened, but the gentlemanly demeanor of the Major and Lieutenant soon wins their confidence, causing them to come to the conclusion that the Yankees were not the wild creatures they had been represented to be. The midnight hour approximating, they all retire, leaving the Major and Lieutenant the occupants of the parlor. In the morning, while all is quiet, they make their exit, leaving the following beautiful lines (written by the Lieutenant,) in the clock:

Where the Savannas of the South

    Spread out their golden breadths to sea,

The fearful tide of war has rolled

    Around this lonely household tree.

I know the hearts that linger here,

    Their broken hopes, their wounded pride,

Have felt what I may never feel,

    Are tried as I have not been tried.

This aged man, this fair browed girl,

    What wonder if they learn to blend

His memory with hate-the foe

    Who might in peace have been their friend.

One common tongue, one blood, one God,

    The God whose ways are dark, are ours;

And He can make war's blackened path,

    Rustle with harvests-bloom with flowers.

And here before he seeks his rest,

    The hated North-man bends his knee,

And prays, restore this household band-

    As dear to them as mine to me;

Oh! let the fearful storm sweep by,

    And spare this roof that sheltered me.

After our entrance into the city, we go into camp in the suburbs, where we remain during the night and the following day.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 288-90