The Confederate forces under Bragg, outside of Fort Fisher, consisted of a small body of Senior Reserves, aged from forty-five to sixty, and some little cavalry.
It was pitiful to see some of those gray-haired patriots dead in the woods, killed by shells from the fleet.
Among those who carried a musket there was Mr. William Pettigrew, brother of the heroic General—now a venerable minister of the gospel.
Kirkland placed one company from the Forty-second, under Captain Koontz, in Battery Gatlin, a small fort on the sea-beach at the southern end of Masonboro Sound, and held the rest of his command on the road covered by the thick woods and dense undergrowth.
I had found a pony at an abandoned farm-house and mounted him, so as to convey orders, but he was new to the business and did not like my spurs.
Kirkland ordered me to ride down to the beach to see if there were any signs of landing troops from the transports.
I did so, and saw the ships extending as far as I could see down