114 Southern Historical Society Papers.
Colonel Preston is a gentleman of intelligence and veracity, as is known to very many of the survivors of that brigade, as well as to many gentlemen in Virginia and South Carolina. He was with eral Bee, and heard what was said. It is safer to believe the story on his testimony alone, though he is not the only one who heard General Bee's remark; than to disbelieve it simply because some 4 ' army correspondent " of a newpaper helped to give currency to it.
Our battery did great execution during this battle. The guns were short-range guns, and Rickett's Battery, of the United States army, which we were firing at, was nearly at point-blank range from us. Our gunners soon showed their skill, and nearly every one ol our shots took effect either on the guns and horses of the enemy, or on such masses of infantry as could be seen. The enemy's guns were rifled guns, known as ten-pounder parrot guns, which threw elongated shells. These passed over our heads, for the most part, giving our nervous system great discomfort at first, and occasionally they fell among our infantry in rear of us. The enemy's gunners had probably very little more experience than our gunners had in actual firing. Ours were men of intelligence and coolness, who estimated the distance of the target at which they were firing, who knew the point-blank range of their own guns, and quickly learned to give such slight elevation as was necessary to be given; whereas the rifled guns opposed to us had a very long range, and, without some depression, carried their charges far over our heads. Their gunners seemed never to have discovered their error.
We were surprised, no doubt many of us, at several experiences of that day. In the first place, we may have been surprised that we were not so badly scared as to anticipate the command to limber up and get away; at any rate, we were surprised at the conduct of our horses. We had anxiously arranged what persons should help the drivers to hold them, but we soon discovered that they did not need holding, excepf to keep them from getting tangled in their harness in their efforts to eat the bunches of poor grass which were near them. The battle was raging as we went into position musketry and artillery of the enemy making fearful noises above and around us, but the horses seemed as calm as if they had been used to it all their lives. Their calmness reassured some of us, probably. We began to find out that there was a vast deal of space through which a hostile missile could find its way without having to pass through those places which our bodies occupied. No horse in the battery was killed, and very few were wounded, and they but slightly, although
