ill take them
all. Let them howl. I don't care. I have got Pemberton tight as wax."
Saying which, he closed his right hand and laid it on the little camp
table with such force that I noticed the veins filling and turning blue
on the back of his hand. These two little incidents give a key to Gen.
Grant's whole character, and the secret of his unparalleled success, not
only in winning battles, but in bagging the entire opposing force.

A week later Vicksburg fell into our hands. We took thirty-two thousand
prisoners, fifteen generals, two thousand other officers, and nearly two
hundred cannon.

[Illustration: GENERALS GRANT AND PEMBERTON.]

About a week after the surrender of Vicksburg the Third regiment was
transferred to the Seventh army corps, under the command of Gen. Fred.
Steele, and took part in the campaign against Little Rock. In the
beginning of September, when we were only ten miles from Little Rock,
our regiment enjoyed the distinction of marching at the head of the
infantry column. We came upon the Confederate batteries on the west bank
of the Arkansas river, where a brisk cannonade was opened. This combat
afforded the most beautiful sight imaginable, if carnage and slaughter
may be called beautiful. We stood on the east side of the river, the
Confederates on the west. The water being very low, a steamer had been
grounded about an eighth of a mile above us, and near the steamer the
water was so shallow that the cavalry could ford the river; but just in
front of the Third regiment the water was so deep that we had to throw a
pontoon bridge for the infantry.

Our regiment was stationed in a cornfield near the river bank to cover
the march across the bridge, and the soldiers were ordered to lie down
on the ground. But we found it very difficult to make them obey, for, in
their eagerness to cross the river, they felt more like rushing ahead
and shouting for joy. Many shots from the Confederate batteries passed
over our heads, so low that the soldiers, in a sporting mood, jumped up
and grabbed with their hands in the air, as if trying to catch them.
In less than an hour the bridge across the deep channel was ready. A
cavalry brigade had meanwhile moved up to the ford above, and now the
signal for crossing was given. The Confederates set fire to the steamer,
which they were unable to save.

It was about noon on one of those glorious autumn days peculiar to this
country, which greatly enhanced the impression of