scared, saying, "Dem people trow dem t'ings about yere so careless, dey won't mind until dey hu't somebody." Just then a shell passed over the fort, and exploding in the rear, a piece cut off a leg of Lieutenant Webb's horse. "Dere now; w'at I tell you!" exclaimed Sam. "Dey done kill Mass Ben's horse."

During the early period of the war a great many of the private soldiers in the Confederate Army had their own negro servants in the field with them, who waited on their masters, cleaned their horses, cooked their meals, etc. Attached to our company there were probably twenty-five such servants. This system continued during the first year or two of the war, on the Carolina coast, but later on, as the service got harder and rations became scarcer, these negro servants were gradually sent back home, and the men did their own work, cooking, etc. As a rule, these negroes liked the life exceedingly. The work exacted of them was necessarily very light. They were never under fire, unless they chose to go there of their own accord, which some of them did, keeping close to their masters. And they spent much of their time foraging around the neighboring country. Although often on the picket lines, night as well as day, with their masters, I never heard of an instance where one of these army servants deserted to the enemy.

At this period of the war the Confederate Government allowed each soldier a certain sum yearly for his uniform, and each company decided for itself what its own uniform should be. In consequence, "uniform" was really an inappropriate term to apply to the dress of various organizations. At first our company was uniformed in gray woolen frock coats, and trousers of the same material, with blue caps; next we had gray cotton coats and trousers with gray cloth hats; then very dark brown coats with blue trousers furnished by the government, and gray felt hats; and finally the gray round jacket, also furnished by the government, which assumed to provide also the hats, shoes, and underclothing. The shoes, when we could get them, were heavy English brogans, very hard on our feet, but durable. It was in the summer of 1862 that we received our first allowance for uniforms, and our quartermaster applied to a tailor in Charleston to furnish them, but there was considerable delay in getting them, and the tailor wrote that goods were then scarce on account of the moonlight nights, but that in about a fortnight, when the moon waned, they would be in greater supply, and the uniforms could be furnished at $2 more per man than the government allowed. So in due time we each supplemented the government's allowance and got new uniforms of very inferior, half cotton gray stuff, which served us for the rest of the year. Afterwards the government tried to furnish the men gratuitously with the best it could, and we did the best we could with what we got.

In July our command was removed to Charleston, under orders to go to Virginia. These orders were countermanded in a few days owing to aggressive movements of the Federals on the South Carolina coast. The remainder of the summer and the fall were spent in Charleston encamped for most of the time at the Washington race course, doing duty on the lines of breastworks thrown up across the neck just above Magnolia Cemetery. These breastworks were built to keep any enemy out of the city, but the nearest enemy on land at that period was on Folley Island; in Tennessee to the west; and Virginia to the North. And when Sherman did come within 50 miles of Charleston nearly three years later our troops were too much occupied in getting away to think of these breastworks. The battalion then consisted of three companies, each armed with four 8-inch howitzers, and all under the command of Maj. Charles Alston, Jr., Capt. Buist having been promoted to major, and assigned to duty near Savannah.

While encamped on the race course I witnessed the military execution of a deserter. The man belonged to one of the regiments doing duty about Charleston, and had been taken in the act of trying to desert to the enemy; tried by court martial and condemned to death. On the day fixed for the execution, some of the troops in Charleston were marched up to the race course, and so formed as to make three sides of a square. Immediately after followed a wagon, with the coffin, and seated on it, the man with his hands tied, and under guard; the whole preceded by a band playing the dead march; and followed by the detail of twelve men selected by lot to shoot him. Half the rifles were loaded with balls and half with blank cartridges, but none of the detail knew how his own was loaded. As the procession halted the coffin was placed on the ground and the deserter had his hands untied, and knelt in front of it facing the twelve men who were to do the shooting, and were drawn up about thirty feet in front of him. At the word of command "aim," the man, seemingly in desperation, jerked open his shirt and bared his breast to the bullets. Instantly at the command "fire" the detail fired, and the man fell over dead on his coffin. It was the most terrible sight I ever saw, far more dreadful than anything I ever witnessed in battle, and it seemed a sad thing that a really brave man should be so sacrificed; but such is one of the necessities of war, and it is necessary to deter others from playing the role of traitor.

At this time the Federal gunboats were very annoying in Stono River, coming as high up as possible daily, and shelling our pickets, and it was determined to make a diversion. Therefore, in January, 1863, our battery with Capt. Smith's and other troops were sent over to John's Island, and ambushed at Legare's point place to cooperate with two companies of Lucas' battalion and some other troops on James Island. The design was to capture the Isaac P. Smith. This vessel was an iron screw steamer of 453 tons, and carried eight 8-inch navy guns, or sixty-four pounders, and a 7-inch thirty-pounder Parrott gun. She was commanded at the time by Capt. F. S. Conover; and her crew consisted of 11 officers and 105 men.

The affair was completely successful. The gunboat in her daily ascent was taken by surprise, and after a short fight at only 75 or 100 yards distance, as she ran trying to escape, had her steam drum torn by a shell, and had to surrender. She had twenty-three men killed and wounded, while we lost one man killed. My howitzer was at a sharp bend in the river, and as the gunboat ran past, her stern was directly about 100 yards in front of the gun I served. It put one 8-inch schrapnel shell into her stern port, and I learned afterwards that the shell knocked a gun off its trunnions and killed or wounded eight men. A prize crew was put on board immediately and the vessel towed by a tug up the river, and later on to the city. While the prisoners were being landed, the U. S. S. Commodore McDonough steamed up the river and opened fire on us, but a few well-directed shots from our batteries soon made her desist and drop back down the river. At nightfall, our command returned to Charleston.

Our 8-inch howitzers were soon after exchanged for four twelve-pounder Napoleon guns, and the battery ordered back to James Island. Here in March we took part in a land affair near Grimball's place on the Stono.

Our battery was encamped about a mile from the river, and at daybreak one morning we were aroused and hurried down the road toward Grimball's plantation. Just before we were about to emerge from the woods into a field, the musketry firing going on rapidly on our left front, and a few shells from the gunboats falling into the woods, we were halted, and told that just in front was a field reaching to the river, and as soon as we passed