[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 Major, and at the resignation of Colonel Aiken would have been, according to seniority, Lieutenant Colonel.  Whether he ever received this rank or not, I cannot remember.  I regret my inability to get a sketch of his life.

But the Rupert of the brigade was Colonel Bland, of the Seventh.  I do not think he ever received his commission as full Colonel, but commanded the regiment as Lieutenant Colonel, with few exceptions, from the battle of Sharpsburg until his death.  Colonel Aiken received a wound at Sharpsburg from which he never fully recovered until after the war.  Colonel Aiken was a moulder of the minds of men; could hold them together and guide them as few men could in Kershaw’s Brigade, but Bland was the ideal soldier and a fighter “par excellence.”  He had the gift of inspiring in his men that lofty courage that he himself possessed.  His form was faultless—­tall, erect, and well developed, his eyes penetrating rather than piercing, his voice strong and commanding.  His was a noble, generous soul, cool and brave almost to rashness.  He was idolized by his troops and beloved as a comrade and commander.  Under the guise of apparent sternness, there was a gentle flow of humor.  To illustrate this, I will relate a little circumstance that occurred after the battle of Chancellorsville to show the direction his humor at times took.  Colonel Bland was a bearer of orders to General Hooker across the Rappahannock, under a flag of truce.  At the opposite bank he was met by officers and a crowd of curious onlookers, who plied the Colonel with irrelevant questions.  On his coat collar he wore the two stars of his rank, Lieutenant Colonel.  One of the young Federal officers made some remark about Eland’s stars, and said, “I can’t understand your Confederate ranks; some officers have bars and some stars.  I see you have two stars; are you a Brigadier General?”