From "A Narrative of a Revolutionary Soldier"

At one time it snowed the greater part of four days successively, and there fell nearly as many feet deep of snow, and here was the keystone of the arch of our starvation. We were absolutely, literally starved. I do solemnly declare that I did not put a single morsel of victuals into my mouth for four days and as many nights, except a little black birch bark which I gnawed off a stick of wood, if that can be called victuals. I saw several of the men roast their old shoes and eat them, and I was afterwards informed by one of the officer's waiters that some of the officers killed and ate a favourite little dog that belonged to one of them. If this was not "suffering" I request to be informed what can pass under that name; if suffering like this did not "try men's souls," I confess that I do not know what could.

Joseph Plumb Martin
Staten Island, January 1780