At about four
o'clock this afternoon we met two of our gunboats near Napoleon, Mississippi,
who told us they had just dislodged a Rebel battery planted on the shore, and
had burned two small villages. Thinking it not safe to proceed, our fleet was
hauled inshore, a strong guard was posted and pickets stationed on shore to
prevent surprise. Most of the men threw themselves down, their arms beside
them, to rest as best they might. Some few had gone ashore and were enjoying a
social chat around their blazing camp fires, while the more restless ones were
working off the effects of the bad whisky they had imbibed during the day with
boisterous, hilarious merriment. It was half-past ten; feeling wakeful, I had
not retired, but sat on the railing of the vessel, talking over past events
with a friend from Jackson. Presently two rifle shots rang out, followed by a
volley from our pickets. Then was there hurrying to and fro. The men sprang
instinctively to arms. Officers rushed from their rooms in dishabille, the
timid crouched behind anything that offered the slightest protection. Confusion
reigned. But soon our Colonel appeared, cool and collected, calm as a summer
eve. "Steady, men, stand by your arms and wait orders." More pickets
were sent out and we patiently awaited the attack. But it did not come. It was,
probably, an attempt by some cowardly wretches to murder one or two of our
pickets and escape under cover of darkness. No one was hurt. We started soon
after daylight, convoyed by two gunboats, prepared for any emergency, and
expecting fun. One gunboat led the way, the other followed in our rear, their
bright little guns portruding from their coalblack sides. They have a jaunty,
saucy air, that seems to say: "Just knock this chip off my shoulder, if
you dare." We were all excitement for a while, eagerly scanning every tree
or log, thinking to see a puff of smoke or a "cracker's" head at
every turn. Seeing nothing for so long a time, we began to think it all a hoax,
when suddenly, as we rounded a point, running close inshore, the transport in
front of us was fired on by a concealed foe. Their fire was instantly returned,
and the saucy little gunboats rounded to and gave them a broadside of grape,
followed by shell, at short range. Our boys were quickly in line, watching with
eager eyes for Rebel heads. Fortunately not a man was injured on either vessel.
A sad accident occurred this afternoon. A young man of Company H was standing
guard at the head of the stairs. He stood on the upper step, leaning on his
gun. It slipped and the hammer struck the step below. The bullet passed through
his stomach and lodged near the spine.
SOURCE: David Lane,
A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 50-2