approached what might have been a little
battlefield on which his own battalion would have been pitted against
a Southern one commanded by a Colonel Harris. "My heart kept getting
higher and higher until it felt as though it was in my throat. I
would have given anything then to have been back in Illinois; but
I had not the moral courage to halt and consider what to do. When
we reached a point from which the valley below was in full view
... the troops were gone. My heart resumed its place. It occurred
to me at once that Harris had been as much afraid of me as I had
been of him. This was a view of the question I never forgot."

Grant's latent powers developed rapidly. Starting with a good stock
of military knowledge he soon added to it in every way he could. He
had the insight of genius. Above all, he had an indomitable will
both in carrying out practicable plans in spite of every obstacle
and in ruthlessly dismissing every one who failed. Not tall, not
handsome, in no way striking at first sight, he looked the leader
born only by reason of his square jaw, keen eye, and determined
expression. Lincoln's conclusive answer to a deputation asking
for Grant's removal simply was, "he 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 advan