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The Daily Dispatch: January 2, 1863., [Electronic resource], Horrors of a bombardment. (search)
ceased, B. went to the gate and returned with the news that there was fire in different parts of the town, and that a company of our men were at the corner bring on the pontoon bridge. Though the bombardment had ceased, the musketry sounded to my ears yet more awful, for I knew they were fighting in the streets. My ears are suddenly shocked by a shout of demoniacal glee--"Here are the rebels! here are the d — d rebels! fire, boys! fire! " Two dreadful cries rend the air — our gallant Capt. Cook is killed at our corner. --To hear the fiendish cry of the enemy unnerved me more than the explosion of the thousands of that burst around us. All being now quiet for a time, we lie down, but not to sleep; for, bark! they are breaking into houses like so many demons. With terrible force they throw themselves against our doors, back and front, but an officer (Yankee, though he was.) saved us. We hear them break into your house, but dare not utter a word, lest they slay us. Oh! who