Fork that day. One brigade of Logan's
division was sent down the stream to occupy the attention of a rebel
battery, which had been left behind with infantry supports to prevent
our repairing the burnt railroad bridge. Two of his brigades were sent
up the bayou to find a crossing and reach the North Fork to repair the
bridge there. The enemy soon left when he found we were building a
bridge elsewhere. Before leaving Port Gibson we were reinforced by
Crocker's division, McPherson's corps, which had crossed the Mississippi
at Bruinsburg and come up without stopping except to get two days'
rations. McPherson still had one division west of the Mississippi
River, guarding the road from Milliken's Bend to the river below until
Sherman's command should relieve it.

On leaving Bruinsburg for the front I left my son Frederick, who had
joined me a few weeks before, on board one of the gunboats asleep, and
hoped to get away without him until after Grand Gulf should fall into
our hands; but on waking up he learned that I had gone, and being guided
by the sound of the battle raging at Thompson's Hill--called the Battle
of Port Gibson--found his way to where I was. He had no horse to ride
at the time, and I had no facilities for even preparing a meal. He,
therefore, foraged around the best he could until we reached Grand Gulf.
Mr. C. A. Dana, then an officer of the War Department, accompanied me on
the Vicksburg campaign and through a portion of the siege. He was in
the same situation as Fred so far as transportation and mess
arrangements were concerned. The first time I call to mind seeing
either of them, after the battle, they were mounted on two enormous
horses, grown white from age, each equipped with dilapidated saddles and
bridles.

Our trains arrived a few days later, after which we were all perfectly
equipped.

My son accompanied me throughout the campaign and siege, and caused no
anxiety either to me or to his mother, who was at home. He looked out
for himself and was in every battle of the campaign. His age, then not
quite thirteen, enabled him to take in all he saw, and to retain a
recollection of it that would not be possible in more mature years.

When the movement from Bruinsburg commenced we were without a wagon
train. The train still west of the Mississippi was carried around with
proper escort, by a circuitous route from Milliken's Bend to Hard Times
seventy or more miles below, and did not get up for