party, had reloaded his rifle and was standing
close to Pinkham. The rebel lieutenant said, "You ---- Yankee, come here
and give up your arms!" Tobin advanced with both hands stretched out,
the rifle in his left and a boarding-pistol in his right. When he got
within about fifteen feet of the lieutenant, he blazed away at him with
the pistol, dropped it and ran across the salt marsh to the woods, about
half a mile distant. He missed the lieutenant, but killed his horse. A
cavalryman started after Tobin and, when near to him, called him to
halt. Tobin turned around and pointed his rifle at the man. The latter's
gun being empty, he halted, and off went the Irishman again for the
woods. Another man started in pursuit with a loaded rifle, and, when
close enough, he shot Tobin in the leg, and the poor fellow afterwards
died in Andersonville Prison.

The Southerners who did not come until the fight was all over, did all
the blustering and had the most to say. They did certainly call us
anything but gentlemen, and also were very indignant because Brinsmaid
had been taken prisoner. "You Yankee ---- ----, get in line there with
your nigger brother!" was the first order we got. We were taken to the
edge of the woods and everything was confiscated, whether of value or
not. The enemy wrangled considerably among themselves, with the result
that George Brinsmaid was taken to a tree about fifty yards from us, a
horse's halter put around his neck, and he was hanged on one of the
limbs; then two charges of buckshot were fired into his breast. The poor
fellow never spoke a word after leaving the brig. In the fight his left
hand had been shot off by buckshot, but not a groan was heard from him.
Some of the Confederates proposed hanging all of us, on account of
having a "nigger" with us, and, judging from what I had seen of their
actions, I almost came to the conclusion that the proposition would be
carried out. However, in a little while the excitement passed away and
they began to be sociable. The wounded were all examined and wads of raw
cotton put into the wounds. One man came to me with his left hand
bandaged up. He inquired if I was badly hurt.

"Well," says he, "you're in luck to be alive now. I took deliberate aim
at you as you stood with your back towards me while loading your rifle.
My ---- shotgun burst and blowed off three of my fingers, and that is
what saved you."

In his eagerness to kill a Yankee, he had put too heavy a c