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March 7th After a splendid night's sleep in the fodder
loft-, I arose, ate a hearty breakfast at a campfire, and we
all left the Hospital in the charge of Dr. Thos. Wilson, who
was sending off the wounded to the oil still -- In company
with Dr. Overstreet and a Mr. Hubbard, I walked to New Port-;
seven miles; we were fresh -- had long legs, and walked fast
overtaking squad after squad of soldiers who had started before
us -- I wrote a letter to Bettie, sent by Pittman, who was
sent back -- I reached New Port a little after noon; just
as a Drumhead Court Martial had decided the fate of two
deserters, named Pelt and Fowler, who had been captured the
evening before-; two of our soldiers who had deserted to the
yankees, and were in their uniform and service -- They had
been condemned to be shot at one o'clock -- The poor creatures
had just been led out for execution, as I arrived-; they were
halted close to me, as a hollow square for the execution was
formed-; and some bandages, pinned around their eyes, were
taken from my haversack-; how dreadfully did I commiserate
their awful condition -- Pelt, whom I had known as a little
boy (his father Jonathan Pelt lived near Marianna, close to
bro. John's plantation) was trembling in every fibre-; his
face was the hue of ashes-, his lips quivering convulsively
in prayer-, his eyes closed & bandaaged --

Fowler was so different-; he was a little fellow, without
a quiver or semblance of agitation about him-; looked reckless
& defiant -- & said he "didn't care a d__n"-; they were both
led around to the centre of a hollow square-; the soldiers
standing around the three sides of the square thus |____| - two