g at pieces of hard tack which had
been thrown overboard by the sailors. The current of the river rushed
swiftly past, making the rudder flap in the water. The men were
lounging about on the berth deck, resting. The cook was preparing
supper, the messenger boys were carrying victuals from the galley to
the ward-room, and placing them on the table. The officer of the deck
was pacing to and fro on the starboard side of the vessel. Captain
Brooks was in his cabin. Many of the officers were in the ward-room.
All else was quiet. I was pacing the port side of the Valley City.
Pilot John A. Lewis was standing on the after hatchway, a little above
the gun-deck amidships. As I approached him in walking from the bow of
the vessel towards him, I said to him, "Pilot, what do you think of the
prospect of getting to Rainbow Bluff?" He replied, "I think we will get
there by and by, if we have patience and the rebels don't blow us up."
Just as I was turning to pace to the bow of the Valley City, I heard a
report ashore like that of a number of barrels of fire-crackers
exploding. Simultaneously with this explosion, I heard the zipping of
bullets in the air close to my head, and striking the bulwarks of the
vessel close by me. Then artillery fire commenced.

In the meantime three loud and prolonged rattles were sprung by the
officer of the deck, calling all hands to quarters. I ran down the
forward hatchway and through the berth-deck to the dispensary, which
was my station, and which was just in front of the boiler on the
berth-deck, and at the foot of the steps of the hatchway on which John
A. Lewis was standing when the firing commenced. He was passed down to
me, killed by a bullet from a sharp-shooter, passing through his head
from ear to ear. John A. Lewis was pilot of the ill-fated Otsego, and
had been ordered aboard the Valley City for general duty after the
sinking of that vessel. At the time that pilot John A. Lewis was
killed, I had my full officer's uniform on, but he had on a blouse and
soft felt hat. I felt certain at the time that the ball that killed
John A. Lewis was intended for me, as I was nearly in line of the shot.

The rebels made it pretty warm for us from 5 to 9 o'clock p.m. The
Valley City was struck three times with shell, and fired one hundred
and thirty-six shots. One of the shells that struck the Valley City
came into a lamp-closet just over my head and near the end of the
boiler, but did not explode. An old