The nearer the time drew for the intended attack, the more each individual seemed to shrink within himself; yet still nothing of fear or doubt of our success was expressed—every feeling displayed was natural and manly. At length night came, and the appointed hour for turning out. It was dark and gloomy; not a single star showed its head; the air was still, not a sound could be heard but the noise of the field cricket, and the croaking of frogs; every word of command was given in a whisper, and the strictest silence enjoined, which I believe was unnecessary; few felt inclined to speak. At last the order was given to advance, and with palpitating hearts we commenced our march—slow and silent, a dead-weight hanging on every mind. Had we been brought hurriedly into action, it would have been different; but it is inconsistent with the nature of man not to feel as I have described, in such a situation. The previous warning—the dark and silent night—the known strength of the place—the imminent danger of the attack—all conspired to produce it. Yet this feeling was not the result of want of courage; for I never witnessed anything like the calm intrepidity displayed in the advance, after we came within range of the enemy’s cannon. Being apprized of our intentions, they threw out fireballs in every direction, and from total darkness they changed the approaches to the garrison into a state light as day. By this means they were enabled to see the direction of our columns, and they opened a fire of round and grape shot which raked through them, killing and wounding whole sections. A circumstance occurred at this time, which may be worthy of notice:—A man who had been very remarkable for his testy disposition, and inveterate habit of swearing on all occasions, happened to hit his foot against a stone, and stumbled; this vexed him, and uttering an oath, he wished a shot would come and knock his brains out; he had scarcely finished these words, when a grape shot struck him on the forehead, and literally fulfilled the rash wish. We still advanced, silent as before, save the groaning of our wounded comrades, until we reached a sort of moat about fifty feet wide, formed by the inundation of the river; here we had to pass, rank entire, the passage being only capable of admitting one at a time. On this place the enemy had brought their guns to bear, and they kept up such a fire of grape and musketry on it, that it was a miracle any of us escaped. When we reached the other side we formed again, and advanced up the glacis, forcing our way through the palisades, and got down into the ditch. The ladders by which we had to escalade the castle were not yet brought up, and the men were huddled on one another in such a manner that we could not move; we were now ordered to fix our bayonets. When we first entered the trench, we considered ourselves comparatively safe, thinking we were out of range of their shot, but we were soon convinced of our