a
churchman of the straightest sect. There was no cant superstitions or
affectation in his make-up, and what he said he meant. It was doubtful
if he ever had an evil thought, and while his manners might have been
at times blunt, he was always sincere and his language chosen and
chaste, with the possible exception during battle. The time of which I
speak, the enemy was making a furious assault on the right wing of the
Eighth, and as the Major would gently rise to his knees and see the
enemy so stubbornly contesting the ground, he would call out to the
men, "There they are, boys, give them hell!" Then in an under tone he
would say, "May God, forgive me for that!" Still the Yankees did not
yield, and again and again he shouted louder and louder, "Boys, give
it to them; give them hell!" with his usual undertone, "May God,
forgive me for that," etc. But they began closing on the right and
the center, and his left was about to give way; the old soldier could
stand it no longer. Springing to his feet, his tall form towering
above all around him, he shouted at the top of his voice, "Give them
hell; give them hell, I tell you, boys; give them hell, G---- souls"
The Eighth must have given them what was wanting, or they received it
from somewhere, for after this outburst they scampered back behind the
ridge.

[Illustration: Lieut. James N. Martin, Co. E., 36 S.C. Regiment.]

[Illustration: Maj. Wm. D. Peck, Quarter Master of Kershaw's Division.
(Page 162.)]

[Illustration: Col. James D. Nance, 3d S.C. Regiment. (Page 353.)]

[Illustration: David E. Ewart, Major and Surgeon, 3d S.C. Regiment.]

Years after this, while Major Stackhouse was in Congress, and much
discussion going on about the old Bible version of hell and the new
version hades, some of his colleagues twitted the Major about the
matter and asked him whether he was wanting the Eighth to give the
Union soldiers the new version, or the old. With a twinkle in his
eye, the Major answered "Well, boys, on all ordinary occasions the new
version will answer the purposes, but to drive a wagon out of a stall
or the Yankees from your front, the old version is the best."

Major Hard, who was killed here, was one of the finest officers in the
brigade and the youngest, at that time, of all the field officers.
He was handsome, brilliant, and brave. He was one of the original
officers of the Seventh; was re-elected at the reorganization in May,
1862, and rose, by promotion, to M