71. A Rainy Night
By REVEREND GEORGE HUGHES HEPWORTH (1863)
THAT night, our advance encamped within six miles of the
enemy's works. I accepted the kind invitation of Colonel
Bullock, of the Thirtieth, to share his tent, and slept as
comfortably on the dry grass and dead leaves as though I had
had a bed of down. A hard ride of six or eight hours naturally
inclined me to hunger and sleep. I relished a pile of crackers
and cheese more than Vitellius ever did his dainty dish of birds'
tongues, and was soon afterwards on my back, giving good
evidence of my condition.
I slept soundly until about half-past ten; when a faint, booming
sound awoke me. It occurred at regular intervals of about a
minute ; and, as soon as I gathered my scattered senses, I
knew that the gunboats were hard at work. I lay quietly for
some time, awed by the solemnity of the occasion; for it was
then pitch dark, and the dull, heavy sound was freighted with
success or defeat; and, on opening my eyes again, I could
distinctly trace the course of the shell through the air by the
light of the fuses. I watched them until about two o'clock, when
I ordered my horse, and set out for headquarters. It was so
dark that I could not keep the road, and so trusted to the
instincts of my noble beast. It was a lonely ride,— five miles
through dense woods, the silence only broken by the gruff "
Who goes there ? "of the guard, and the ominous clicking of
the hammer as he cocked his gun.
I had just reached headquarters when the welcome news came
that a part of the fleet had succeeded in
getting by the fort. Still there was something ominous in a
certain glare of light, which ever and anon burst up from the
tree-tops in the distance. One of our vessels must have caught
fire. It could not be a common gunboat, for the flames had
already lasted several hours. At last a courier came, saying
that the Mississippi had caught fire. That noble vessel was
part of the price we were to pay for the victory hoped for.
I have never witnessed a scene so magnificent as that which
closed the career of this war-ship. One moment, the flames
would die away, and then the black darkness of the night
seemed heavier than ever; in another minute, the flames would
curl up again above the tree-tops, and tinge the cloud-edges
with a lurid light. At length came the catastrophe. I thought
the fire had gone out; and was just turning away, when fold
After fold of cloudy flame, driven with terrific force, rose higher
and higher, until the
entire heavens were illuminated, as though the sun itself had
burst; and immediately after came a sound that shook the
earth,—a crash so awful, that it seemed as though one could
feel it; which thundered along the entire horizon, frightening
the birds in their coverts and the horses in their stalls; and
then all was still and dark. The Mississippi was no more. That
noble vessel, which had made for herself a history, had at last
fallen a victim to the chances of war. She was a splendid ship;
and every American will remember with regret the hour when
she was lost.
That night, fortune did not favor me. I had escorted Colonel
Clarke, who had been wounded, beyond our lines, on the
Baton-Rouge road; and, a second time, accepted the
hospitality of Colonel Bullock. I was quietly and with great
zest gnawing a beef-bone, wondering at the novelty of a
soldier's life, when I was surprised out of my dream by the
patter of rain. I was fully prepared for fine weather; but rain I
had not reckoned upon. The ground was so low and marshy,
that, in the course of the first half hour, there were at least
three inches of water on it. I perched myself on a bread-box,
however, and crossed my legs, feeling that delightful
indifference to all fortune, which is the charm and necessity of
a soldier's life. My bone and my hunger were enough to
occupy all my thoughts. My inner man, astonished at the utter
neglect of the last eighteen hours, was determined that I
should concentrate my attention upon one thing only. That
luscious beef-bone, which, only a few hours before, had been
trotting about gayly in those very woods, seemed to me the
richest luxury in the world.
When I had satisfied my hunger, I began to recognize
the fact, that the tent was pitched in four inches of
water, and that it was raining most lustily. I splattered out, tied
my horse under a large tree, laughed heartily at the look of
perfect surprise he put on as I turned to leave him, and then
hunted until I came across a stretcher which would lift me just
six inches from the ground, and serve very comfortably for a
bed. Fortune did indeed favor me. I was two inches above the
water, and had a covering above my head, which only once in
a while played the sieve, and showered me. I slept soundly as
only the , tired man can. In the morning, my faithful horse
waked me with his neighing; and, if he had had the power of
speech, I do not doubt he would have scolded me well for
leaving him all night in a pond.
I was surprised at the uniform cheerfulness of the men under
these trying circumstances. They had no covering except their
rubber-blankets, which they stretched out—a very poor roof—
upon four upright stakes. They were, most of them, drenched
to the skin. Yet around the camp-fires were heard only mirth
and wildest hilarity. Once in a while, I came across some poor
unfortunate, who had dropped his blanket in the mud, and
down whose back the rain was trickling mercilessly; and who
seemed to have arrived at the sage conclusion, that a soldier's
life is not always gay, as generally represented, and that camp-life and camp-meeting are two very different things. But even
he soon gathered his muddy clothes about him; and, crawling
alongside the bright fire, got into a better humor with himself
and the fortunes of war.