This request was not based upon a supposition of superior educational qualifications on my part, for the parties who made it know that my school days ended at twelve, and that the time usually devoted to instruction of youth was spent by many of us, from ’61 to ’65, on the northern side of Richmond.  Consequently, to the love that I treasure in my heart for the “Old First” is due whatever of distinction attaches to the position of recorder of actions which prove the worth and heroism of each constituent part of the brigade.  In accepting this trust I shall repress all desire for rhetorical display.  I will not even attempt to do that justice, which is beyond the power of mortals; but shall simply try to be your faithful chronicler or recorder of facts as they appeared to me and others, who have so kindly assisted me in the compilation of these records, and shall confine myself to the effort to attain my highest ambition—­absolute correctness.  It is true that inaccuracies may have crept in; but these will be found to be mostly among proper names—­due in a great measure to the illegibility of the manuscripts furnished me by correspondents.  Again, apparent errors will be explained, when it is recalled to your minds that no two men see the same circumstance from the same standpoint.  Honest differences will appear, no matter how trivial the facts are upon which they are based.

I have endeavored to be fair and just, and in so doing have laid aside a soldier’s pardonable pride in his own regiment, and have accorded “honor to whom honor was due.”  Despite all that maybe alleged to the contrary, ours was not a “War of the Roses,” of brother against brother, struggling for supremacy; but partook more of the nature of the inhuman contest in the Netherlands, waged by the unscrupulous and crafty Duke of Alva at the instance Philip (the Good!), or rather like that in which the rich and fruitful Province of the Palatine was subjected to fire and rapine under the mailed hand of that monster of iniquity—­Turenne.

How well the men of Kershaw’s Brigade acted their part, how proudly they faced the foe, how grandly they fought, how nobly they died, I shall attempt not to depict; and yet—­

  Could heart and brain and hand and pen
  But bring to earth and life again
  The scenes of old,
  Then all the world might know and see;
  Your deeds on scrolls of fame would be
  Inscribed in gold

I am indebted to many of the old comrades for their assistance, most notably Judge Y.J.  Pope, of the Third South Carolina; Colonel Wm. Wallace, of the Second; Captain L.A.  Waller, for the Seventh; Captains Malloy, Harllee, and McIntyre, of the Eighth; Captain D.J.  Griffith and Private Charles Blair, of the Fifteenth; Colonel Rice and Captain Jennings, of the Third Battalion, and many others of the Twentieth.  But should this volume prove of interest to any of the “Old Brigade,” and should there be any virtue in it, remember it belongs to Y.J.  Pope.  Thrice have I laid down my pen, after meeting with so many rebuffs; but as often taken it up after the earnest solicitation of the former Adjutant of the Third, who it was that urged me on to its completion.