fights." And, when mounted on his splendid charger Cincinnati,
Grant even looked what he was--"a first-class fighting man."


Grant marched straight across the narrow neck of land between the
forts, which were only twelve miles apart. Foote of course had to
go round by the Ohio--fifteen times as far. His vanguard, the
dauntless Carondelet, now commanded by Henry Walke, arrived on
the twelfth and fired the first shots at the fort, which stood on
a bluff more than a hundred feet high and mounted fifteen heavy
guns in three tiers of fire. Grant's infantry was already in
position round the Confederate entrenchments; and when his
soldiers heard the naval guns they first gave three rousing
cheers and then began firing hard, lest the sailors should get
ahead of them again. Birge's sharpshooters, the snipers of those
days, were particularly keen. They never drilled as a battalion,
but simply assembled in bunches for orders, when Birge would ask:
"Canteens full? Biscuits for all day?" After which he would sing
out: "All right, boys, hunt your holes"; and off they would go to
stalk the enemy with their long-range rifles.

Early next morning Grant sent word to Walke that he was
establishing the rest of his batteries and that he was ready to
take advantage of any diversion which the Carondelet could make
in his favor. Walke then fired hard for two hours under cover of
a wooded point. The fort fired back equally hard; but with little
effect except for one big solid shot which stove in a casemate,
knocked down a dozen men, burst the steam heater, and bounded
about the engine room "like a wild beast pursuing its prey."
Forty minutes later the Carondelet was again in action, firing