General Harris divided his men into two bodies; the first comprised the most skilful marksmen, or gunners; the second, the reserve force, was composed of the strongest boys, whose duty it was to repel the scaling parties, and to make occasional sallies for the purpose of capturing prisoners, who were bound by the articles of treaty to faithfully serve under our flag until they were exchanged at the close of the day.

The repellers were called light infantry; but when they carried on operations beyond the fort they became cavalry.  It was also their duty, when not otherwise engaged, to manufacture snow-balls.  The General’s staff consisted of five Templars (I among the number, with the rank of Major), who carried the General’s orders and looked after the wounded.

General Mat Ames, a veteran commander, was no less wide-awake in the disposition of his army.  Five companies, each numbering but six men, in order not to present too big a target to our sharpshooters, were to charge the fort from different points, their advance being covered by a heavy fire from the gunners posted in the rear.  Each scaler was provided with only two rounds of ammunition, which were not to be used until he had mounted the breastwork and could deliver his shots on our heads.

The drawing below represents the interior of the fort just previous to the assault.  Nothing on earth could represent the state of things after the first volley.

(Fort Slatter detail graphic)

The thrilling moment had now arrived.  If I had been going into a real engagement I could not have been more deeply impressed by the importance of the occasion.

The fort opened fire first—­a single ball from the dexterous band of General Harris taking General Ames in the very pit of his stomach.  A cheer went up from Fort Slatter.  In an instant the air was thick with flying missiles, in the midst of which we dimly descried the storming parties sweeping up the hill, shoulder to shoulder.  The shouts of the leaders, and the snowballs bursting like shells about our ears, made it very lively.

Not more than a dozen of the enemy succeeded in reaching the crest of the hill; five of these clambered upon the icy walls, where they were instantly grabbed by the legs and jerked into the fort.  The rest retired confused and blinded by our well-directed fire.

When General Harris (with his right eye bunged up) said, “Soldiers, I am proud of you!” my heart swelled in my bosom.

The victory, however, had not been without its price.  Six North-Enders, having rushed out to harass the discomfited enemy, were gallantly cut off by General Ames and captured.  Among these were Lieutenant P. Whitcomb (who had no business to join in the charge, being weak in the knees), and Captain Fred Langdon, of General Harris’s staff.  Whitcomb was one of the most notable shots on our side, though he was not much to boast of in a rough-and-tumble fight, owing to the weakness before mentioned.  General Ames put him among the gunners, and we were quickly made aware of the loss we had sustained, by receiving a frequent artful ball which seemed to light with unerring instinct on any nose that was the least bit exposed.  I have known one of Pepper’s snow-balls, fired pointblank, to turn a corner and hit a boy who considered himself absolutely safe.