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Text for Page 126 [12-21-1862]

                          In New Orleans

[newspaper clipping continued: first column]
with perhaps a couple of sullen, evil-looking Secesh
farmers, caught prowling, rifle in hand, in the
bushes, intent on a little amateur murder.  Often,
too, they are accompanied by a gleeful negro, over-
zealous to tell more than he knows to his friends the
  There are New-Yorkers who will be interested in
learning that Col. Billy Wilson�s regiment arrived
at Baton Rouge yesterday morning, from Carrolton,
about eight miles above New-Orleans.  Like their
Colonel, they look bale and sturdy, and he asserts
they can do anything in the athletic way, serve ar-
tillery, swim, row, run, fight, or go without rations.
They muster only about 600 of the original corps.
Unluckily, the achievements of some members of it
tend to justify its �hard� reputation.  In coming up
the river, a party of nine rushed past the guards,
jumped into a canoe, upset it, swam ashore, stole a
barrel of whiskey from a distillery, and broke, bur-
glariously, into the house of a planter.  One of
them, named Aiken, the ringleader, resisted and
struck his officer, who, in return, shot him dead on
the spot.  They buried him where he fell, and the
steamboat continued its journey.  Col. Wilson�s
men are to be quartered, rather appropriately, in the
Baton Rouge Penitentiary.
  There is a foolish story afloat, relating how a Se-
cession artist was shot on the west bank of the
river while sketching our gunboats and transports.
I can trace it to no authentic source, and believe
nothing of it.  We have no pickets or soldiers on that
side of the Mississippi.
  The �long roll� beat at daybreak this morning,
but as no firing ensued, we pronounced it one of the
many false alarms incidental to an embryo camp.
You will probably hear from me by the same mail
that conveys this, from New-Orleans.		T. B. G.

[newspaper clipping]
Guerrillas on the banks of the Mississippi�
  Attack on a Steamboat�Fatal Results.
From Our Special Correspondent.
					Dec. 23, 1862.}
  The Empire Parish, a Louisiana river-boat, arrived
at this port this morning, having experienced an ad-
venture highly suggestive of the insecure state of
the locality in which it occurred.
  This was Brewery Landing, on the west bank of
the Mississippi, 3 � miles below Baton Rouge.  The
steamer lay there, her hands being employed in
loading her with sugar, when upward of 200 Rebel
guerrillas, headed by the notorious Col. Talbot, sud-
denly appeared, and rushing down the bank, made
an attempt to seize the vessel.  With great presence
of mind, the officers of the steamer backed her off
into the stream, precipitating two of the assailants
who had actually got on board into it.  Seeing this,
and apprehending its escape, the Rebels on shore
discharged a volley of musketry at the boat, perfor-
ating it in 150 different places, and completely rid-
dling the pilot-house.  Unhappily I have to chronicle
unfortunate results:  Mr. C. McGill, assistant Engi-
neer, was killed instantly;  Mr. W. G. Reed, owner
of the boat, and agent for Spofford and Tileston,
New-York, received a dangerous wound, being shot
through the back; Mr. W. Clark got badly hit in the
arm, and two deck hands were more or less injured.
  The Rebels were armed only with guns and knives.
The Empire Parish had 139 hhds. of sugar on board
at the time; she would therefore have proved a valu-
able prize.  Discomfited, the assailants departed to
another river landing, where more sugar was await-
ing shipment.  The steamer returned to Baton Rouge,
to procure medical assistance, and then steamed for

[Gunn�s diary continued]
to be rejoicingly cast-off
in token of enfranchisement.   When the day
came, however, the miserable truckling policy
of Gen. Banks suppressed the demonstration.
(The supersedure of Butler was a blunder
throughout, though I did not then know it,
and tried to think favorably of him, for fair
play�s sake.)    With A. G. to his lodging, on
Canal Street, where he sojourned with some
officers.    Here I borrowed a pair of his trousers
and boot and took mine to be repaired.         Di-
ned with Schell where we breakfasted, at
the Southern Restaurant, Howell and Hills               
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