On Wednesday, parties were out reconnoitering near the enemy’s works, and in one case a squad of cavalry went within a mile of the fort and encountered two hundred rebel horsemen. Both sides fired, when the rebels ran, leaving one of their number dead, and carrying off three severely wounded. One man on the Union side was shot through the brain, and killed instantly. He was the first man who gave up his life in the vicinity of Fort Henry.

It had been noticed that a steamer belonging to the rebels was busily engaged in running from the fortifications to some point up or across the river, which was doubtless bringing in reinforcements. Two of the gunboats—the Taylor and Conestoga, ran up to nearly the centre of the island, and dropped a few shells in the direction of the fort and the steamer, with what result was not known. They effected a thorough reconnoissance on both sides, and discovered two ugly torpedoes sunk in the west channel, which they carefully hauled out and towed down to the shore below.

During the day and night the division of General Smith, from Paducah, arrived, and was landed on the west shore of the river, with a view of operating against batteries supposed to be on that side, and also to counteract a large body of troops, which scouts reported to be concentrating opposite the fort.

Wednesday night was cold and most disagreeable. About eight o’clock a heavy storm set in, which speedily quenched the camp-fires, and sent the troops wet and disconsolate under any shelter that could be found. All over the southern horizon, in the direction of Fort Henry, a tremendous thunder storm swept its way, filling the hills with flashes of fiery blue lightning, and shaking the forests with loud reverberations of thunder. Hailing this burst of heaven’s artillery, rolling southward toward the enemy, as a good omen, the Union soldiers pulled the wet blankets closer around them, turned drearily in the yielding mud, and fell asleep.

Thursday dawned cloudily, but towards nine o’clock it cleared up and the sun came out warm and gloriously. Nature nowhere seemed to anticipate the bloody event which gives the day prominence. A few more troops arrived, among whom were the Ohio Seventh, Colonel Lauman, and the Ohio Twelfth, Colonel Wood, both from Smithland, and which, together with the Seventh Illinois, Lieutenant-Colonel Bancock; Thirteenth Missouri, Colonel Wright; the Fifteenth Illinois, Colonel ——, and Company D, First Missouri Artillery, made the Third Brigade, Colonel John Cook commanding, assigned the right wing of the advance up the Tennessee shore.

About ten o’clock the gunboats started slowly up the river, four iron clad steamers leading abreast—the Essex, Captain Porter, on the right, and the Cincinnati, Commodore Foote, on the left. The three wooden gunboats ranged themselves abreast and followed, half a mile or so to the rear.

The iron-clad boats moved up abreast, keeping up the west or high water channel. Almost immediately on passing the lower end of the island, the boats and the forts were in each others’ range, but on both sides an ominous silence was preserved—a silence that betokened deadly intent on the part of the belligerents. On swept the boats, coming in full view of the long line of breastworks that broke the east shore—in full view of the black muzzles of the heavy guns which seemed watching the approach of the gallant little fleet in ominous silence—in full view of the flag waving defiantly from a high staff in the centre of the works, until one could almost see down the huge bore of the guns, the bright straps of the shells, which seemed like leashes to prevent the deadly missiles from springing forth upon their work of destruction—and yet not a trigger was pulled on either side.

Less than a mile separated the fleet and the fort, and yet not a word was said. The insurgents appeared to be confidently anticipating the conflict; and grouped like statues around their guns, with lanyards stretched, they waited for the onset.

When about six hundred yards from the fort, the bow-guns of the flag-ship poured their contents into it, and so close after, that the reports seemed almost one, the other three poured in their fire. Scarcely had the smoke cleared from the muzzles of the pieces, ere the whole ten guns of the rebels belched forth their contents, sending a terrific iron shower in, above and around the gunboats. Taking their cue from the others, the three wooden gunboats, which were about a mile below, opened from their bow-guns, and then the contest was fairly begun. For one hour the roar was so incessant that the successive reports of the guns could not, in many cases, be distinguished. Occasionally there would be a momentary lull—then a single reverberating roar would give the key-note, and an instant after all the voices would swell together in one tremendous chorus.

A thick cloud of smoke enveloped the boats, hiding them completely from view. Over them hovered a dense white vapor, from which quick flashes of flame leaped and quivered, incessantly followed by delicate balloon-like forms of smoke, which burst like ghostly shadows from the enemy’s shells.