Journal of Julia LeGrand.

February 22nd [1863]. Clear and beautiful. Cannons were fired. Numerous reports as usual. Company to dinner who reported fighting over the river. Mary Harrison on her way from church met three Confederate soldiers under arrest taken from the boat. A hundred were sent off, it is said. Willy Thompson, a young friend of Mary Waugh’s, became furious with disappointment— said if he could not go into the Confederacy, he would go to Fort Jackson. Consequently he gave his tongue license and was arrested on the boat and brought before Colonel Clarke. This gentleman, who stands out from the Federal groups here like a piece of harmonious statuary, merely said to him that he knew he had met with a disappointment, “and now, young man,” he continued, “you had best-take yourself off home as soon as possible.” The remaining prisoners were transferred to the Brunswick, and were carried a few miles above Baton Rouge. They left the boat giving three cheers for Colonel Clarke. We “Rebels” are not all fire-eaters and savages, as it pleases Northern satirists to style us, and really know how to appreciate a kindly enemy even. Our hearts ached this morning to hear that five of our Confederate friends fell overboard, owing to the slipping of some wood, and one of them was drowned. The Yankee Era says that the “Rebel” officer who called the roll of our prisoners at Houston, is Lieutenant Todd, brother of Mrs. Lincoln. He is tall, fat, and savage against the Yankees.