Attached to Bonham’s Brigade was Kemper’s Battery of light artillery, commanded by Captain Dell Kemper.  This company was from Alexandria, Va., just over the Potomac from Washington.  This organization was part of the old State militia, known as volunteer companies, and had been in existence as such for many years.  It being in such close proximity to Washington, the sentiment of the company was divided, like all companies on the border.  Some of the company were in favor of joining the Union Army, while others wished to go with the State.  Much discussion took place at this time among the members as to which side they would join, but Captain Kemper, with a great display of coolness and courage, cut the Gordian knot by taking those with him of Southern sentiment, like himself, and on one dark night he pulled out from Alexandria with his cannon and horses and made his way South to join the Southern Army.  That was the last time any of that gallant band ever saw their native city for more than four years, and many of the poor fellows looked upon it that night for the last time.  Between them and the South Carolinians sprang up a warm attachment that continued during the war.  They remained with us as a part of the brigade for nearly two years, or until the artillery was made a separate branch of the service.  While in winter quarters, when many troops were granted furloughs, those men having no home to which they could visit like the others, were invited by members of the brigade to visit their own homes in South Carolina and remain with their families the length of their leave of absence.  Many availed themselves of these kind invitations, and spent a pleasant month in the hospitable homes of this State.  The ladies of South Carolina, appreciating their isolated condition and forced separation from their homes, with no kind mother or sister with opportunities to cheer them with their delicate favors, made them all a handsome uniform and outfit of underwear, and sent to them as a Christmas gift.  Never during the long years of the struggle did the hearts of South Carolinians fail to respond to those of the brave Virginians, when they heard the sound of Kemper’s guns belching forth death and destruction to the enemy, or when the battle was raging loud and furious.

On the morning of the 16th of July, when all was still and quiet in camp, a puff of blue smoke from a hill about three miles off, followed by the roar of a cannon, the hissing noise of a shell overhead, its loud report, was the first intimation the troops had that the enemy had commenced the advance, it is needless to say excitement and consternation overwhelmed the camp.  While all were expecting and anxiously awaiting it, still the idea of being now in the face of a real live enemy, on the eve of a great battle, where death and horrors of war, such as all had heard of but never realized, came upon them with no little feelings of dread and emotion.  No man living, nor any who ever lived,