OFFICERS.
Captain, Edwin W. Ansley.
First Lieutenant, M. G. Hester.
Second Lieutenant, Jas. M. Weems.
Third Lieutenant, E. E. Dortic.
First Sergeant, Wm. K. Thompson.
Second Sergeant, Walter H. Frazer.
Third Sergeant, Geo. P. Butler.
Fourth Sergeant, Wm. A. Griffin.
Fifth Sergeant, J. D. Marshall.
First Corporal, W. H. Miller.
Second Corporal, Thos. O'Hara.
Third Corporal, Bradford Merry.
Fourth Corporal, M. V. Calvin.
Secretary, Henry P. Richmond.
Musicians, W. B. White, E. A. Young.
PRIVATES.
Anderson, W. F. E.
Bruckner, J. D.
Bunch, G. M.
Bass, Geo. F.
Boddie, John S.
Boulineau, W. A.
Cheesborough, C. M.
Carroll, J. R.
Cleckley, A.
Duke, J. B.
Duke, John F.
Duke, B. F.
Duvall, R. B.
Duddy, Wm.
Epps, W. D.
Fowler, J. C.
Gardiner, H. N.
Gates, Wm.
Hall, E. H.
Hall, A. G.
Helmuth, F.
Hendrix, W. H.
Hinton, G. W.
Isaacs, Wm.
King, Jesse.
Kerniker, Edward.
Lamback, Geo. F.
Mulherin, Wm.
Manders, J. J.
Morgan, Evan.
Mathis, J. T.
Nelson, T. C.
Peppers, J. M.
Peppers, A. H.
Roberts, Chas. P.
Roulett, M.
Robinson, James.
Shaw, A. W.
Shaw, W. D.
Stephens, E. A.
Samuels, W.
Tobin, John.
Tant, Alex.
Talbot, J. M.
Taylor, Wm.
Tuttle, D. W.
Wise, T. C.
Wolff, M.
Young, J. R.
SUPPLEMENT.
As this is my first, and will probably be my last attempt at authorship, in deference to the possibly too partial judgment of friends, I have ventured to include in the volume two additional sketches in no way connected with the memories, which precede them. Yielding to the same kindly criticism I have added also a war poem, intended to perpetuate an incident whose hardly paralleled pathos has not, I trust, been marred by the poetic dress in which I have attempted to preserve it.
ONE OF MY HEROES.
Personal courage, when from the lack of selfish ends, it rises to the plane of real chivalry, has always met with willing homage from the hearts of men. I do not know that hero-worship has entered largely into my own mental or moral makeup, and yet for thirty years and more my heart has paid its silent and yet earnest tribute to one, who in unadulterated grit and innate chivalry was the peer of any man I have ever known. I have called him my hero, but he was mine, perhaps, only by right of discovery. I found him in a little Florida village in the winter of '66. There was nothing in his appearance to indicate the hero. No title, civil or military added dignity to his name. So far as I know no stars or bars had gilded the old grey uniform he had laid aside with Lee's surrender. He was simply plain Bob Harrison. Of his lineage or earthly history I learned but little. I know that he was the son of a Methodist minister who, some years before, had moved to Florida from South Carolina, and who, by right of apostolical succession, was not only a good preacher but a good fisherman as well. I know, further, that in one of the battles in Virginia my friend had been shot through the lungs and had been left upon the battlefield to die.