344 OVERTURNED BY A SHOT. [1863. scream and a rush would not quicken his vision, and judging from my own experience, I supposed they must be deceived. Now, far up the river I saw a shot coming with vivid distinctness. How round, smooth, shining, and black it looked, ricochetting along, plunging into the water, throwing up great jets of spray, bounding like a schoolboy's ball, and then skimming the river again! It struck about four feet from my hay-bale, which was now a few yards from the burning barge. The great sheet of water which dashed up quite obscured me from Colburn and "Junius," who, upon the bows of the barge, were just bidding me adieu. At first they thought the shot an extinguisher. But it did me no greater harm than partially to overturn my hay-bale and dip me into the river. A little more or less dampness just then was not of much consequence. It was the last shot which I saw or heard. The Rebels now ceased firing, and shouted "Have you no boats?" Learning that we had none, they sent out a yawl. I looked about for a plank, but could find none adapted to a long voyage. Rebel pickets were on both sides of the river, and Rebel batteries lined it ten or twelve miles below, at a point which, by floating, one could reach at daylight. Surrender seemed the only alternative. At Memphis, two days before, I had received a package of letters, including two or three from the Tribune office, and some which treated of public men, and military strength, movements, and prospects, with great freedom. One of them, from Admiral Foote, containing some very kind words, I sorely regretted to lose; but the package was quite too valuable to be submitted to the scrutiny of the enemy. I kept it until the last moment, but 1863.] RESCUED FROM THE RIVER. 345 when the Rebel yawl approached within twenty feet, tore the letters in pieces and threw them into the Mississippi. The boat was nearly full. After picking me up, it received on board two scalded men who were floating near, and whose groans were heart-rending. We were deposited on the Mississippi shore, under guard of four or five soldiers in gray, and the yawl went back to receive the remainder. Among the saved I found Surgeon Davidson. He was unable to swim, but some one had carefully placed him upon a hay-bale. On reaching the shore, he sat down upon a stool, which he had rescued from the river, spread his overcoat upon his knee, and deposited his carpet-sack beside him. It was the first case I ever knew of a man so hopelessly shipwrecked, who saved all his baggage, and did not even wet his feet. The boat soon returned. To my infinite relief, the first persons who sprang to the shore were "Junius" and Colburn. Sartorially they had been less fortunate than I. One had lost his coat, and the other was without shoes, stockings, coat, vest, or hat. There, in the moonlight, guarded by Rebel bayonets, we counted the rescued, and found that just sixteen-less than half our number-were alive and unharmed. the rest were killed, scalded, or wounded. All Some of the scalded were piteous spectacles. The raw flesh seemed almost ready to drop from their faces; and they ran hither and thither, half wild from excruciating pain. None of the wounded were unable to walk, though one or two had broken arms. The most had received slight contusions, which a few days would heal. The missing numbered eight or ten, not one of whom was ever heard of afterward. It was impossible to 346 THE KILLED, WOUNDED, AND MISSING. [1863. obtain any correct list of their names, as several of them were strangers to us and to each other; and no record had been made of the persons starting upon the expedition. We were two miles below the city, whither the lieutenant of our guard now marched us. |