Drummond had resolved to assail the works in three separate strong columns, of from twelve to fifteen hundred men each, moving simultaneously against three separate points. One against Towson's battery, occupying the extreme north-east angle of the fortifications; a second against the right, and the third full on the fort itself. The day had been stormy, with torrents of rain deluging the earth, and the night set in dark and dismal. The watch fires of the enemy's camp could scarcely be discerned through the gloom, and dead silence reigned over both encampments. Hour after hour wore slowly away, till midnight came, and yet no sound but the moaning of the wind as it swept over the water and the woods, broke the stillness. At length about two o'clock in the morning, the muffled tread of the advancing columns was distinctly heard in the darkness. The one directed against Towson's batteries near the water, came first within range, when a tremendous fire opened upon it. In an instant, the whole scenery was lit up by the blaze of the guns, which threw also a red and baleful light over the serried ranks, pressing with fixed bayonets to the assault. Although Towson kept his batteries in fierce play, and sheets of flame went rolling on the doomed column, it kept resolutely on till it approached within ten feet of the infantry. But its strength was exhausted; it could stagger on no farther; and first wavering, it then halted, and finally recoiled. Rallied to a second attack, it advanced with loud shouts, only to be smitten with the same overwhelming fire. Encouraged to a third effort, it swerved from the direct assault, and endeavored to wade around an abattis of loose brushwood, that stretched from the batteries to the shore. Pressing forward, up to their arm-pits in the water, some few reached the enclosure within, but only to perish, and the remainder retreated. The column advancing against the right battery, commanded by Douglas, was allowed to approach within fifty yards, when such a rapid and wasting fire was poured upon it, that it recoiled in confusion. The central column, led on by Lieutenant-Colonel Drummond, pressed firmly and rapidly through the fire of Hindman's guns, applied their ladders to the walls, and began to mount. Repulsed, they made a second and third desperate effort to reach the parapets, but without success. Stubborn and brave, this officer was resolved not to abandon the attempt, and favored by the darkness, led his troops quietly along the ditch to a point where no assault was expected, and applying his ladders, mounted to the top of one of the bastions. Enraged by his successive repulses, and maddened by the slaughter of his troops, this intrepid but brutal leader no sooner gained the parapet than he cried out "give the damned Yankees no quarter." The latter instantly closed on him with a sternness and ferocity that made that single bastion swim in blood. Carrying out his own inhuman orders, Drummond shot Lieutenant