The boys leaned their muskets against the logs, and, while some cut brush, others swept up the splinters and pine knots that the shot and shell had strewn over the floor, and not one of them forgot to go to the corner of the cabin and empty his haversack! It made a pile of commissary stores, consisting of meat, coffee, sugar, hard-tack and chickens (foraged from her next door neighbor), surpassing any that this poor "cracker" woman had probably ever seen.

This done, the next thing was the christening, and the chaplain came forward to perform his sacred office.

"What are you going to give her for a name? I want suthin' right peart, now," said grandmother.

She was told that the name should be satisfactory, and forthwith she brought out the baptismal bowl-a gourd-full of water fresh from the spring.

THE CHRISTENING.

General Logan now took the baby, wrapped in its swaddling clothes of homespun, and held it while the chaplain went through with the ceremony. The latter was brief and solemn, the spectators behaving with becoming reverence, and the battle-born babe was christened "Shell Anna."

The party now turned to leave the cabin and resume the march, when General Logan, taking a gold coin from his pocket—a coin that he had carried as a pocket-piece for many a day-presented it to the old lady as a "christening gift" for his godchild, and the officers and men added one by one a greenback," until the sum was swelled to an amount greater than this brave-hearted "cracker" had ever handled.

66

Before

parting, the general cautioned her to put the money in a safe place, lest some bummer should steal it, in spite of everything," and then, ordering a guard to be kept over her cabin until the last straggler had passed, he rode away. The old lady's good-by was: "Waal! them thar Yanks is the beatenist critters I ever seen!"

BATTLE OF MISSIONARY RIDGE.

NOVEMBER 25, 1863.

A GALLANT REGIMENT WON THE FEDERAL VICTORY.-A GRAND CHARGE.

By LIEUT. W. M. BOROUGHS, Company E, 24th Alabama Regiment.

ACK in anti-bellum days we frequently saw pictures of grand charges made by an assaulting army, in columns or single line. The artist probably drew more on his imagination than actual observation or experience, and hence arranged his soldiers with perfect alignment. They were apparently moving upon the enemy, prompted by the monotonous "left" of the drill officer. Actual war dissipated such pictures from the minds of the veterans of the North and South. A line or column might be formed and started out all right, but when shell, grape, and minie balls. began to pour into their ranks, all order was soon lost, and by the time the assaulting column reached the objective point, companies, regiments, and brigades would be mixed in a manner never contemplated by military tactics. The charge of Grant's columns at Missionary Ridge seemed to be an exception to the pell-mell style. I occupied a position from which I had an unobstructed view of a mile or more in front and to the right and left. Anderson's division occupied the center of Bragg's line, Managault occupied the center of the division, with Anderson's old brigade of Mississippians to the left of Managault. The Confederate line had been extended until it was not much better than a strong skirmish line without support.

Yet we had good breastworks topped with head-logs, and we felt confident that our deficiency in numbers was compensated by the strength of our position. The 24th Ala. had its breastworks far enough below the crest of the bridge to admit the

safe discharge of artillery over their heads. A battery known as the "Continental" was posted just above them. It had done gallant service hitherto, and we felt confident it could hurl death and destruction in the enemy's lines whenever he appeared in the plain below.

The morning was clear and beautiful; all the forenoon was occupied by the Federals in getting into position. The plain between Missionary Ridge and Chattanooga is about two miles in breadth. Far to our left, between the ridge and Lookout Mountain, a heavy column could be seen moving.

This was the Federal flanking column and we had no adequate force with which to meet it. About three o'clock P. M. the grand charge in our front began. As soon as the Federal lines appeared midway of the plain, shells went screaming over our heads and we could see that they exploded right in the midst of the enemy. But on they came, the grandest array of blue ever witnessed by the veterans on the ridge. When they arrived within two or three hundred yards of the base of the ridge, they moved at double quick, and soon broke into a run. As line after line came, they lay down at the foot of the ridge. They had now got within range of our small arms, but our artillery could not be sufficiently depressed to reach them. I noticed when the Federal lines dashed up to the ridge, an officer riding a sorrel horse. When he reached the base, he dismounted, and his horse went scampering to the rear. He walked up and down the line, waving his sword, and seemed to be urging the men forward, but they lay like a blue ribbon as far as I could see. I procured a gun and putting down my sword, several of us amused ourselves by firing at that officer as he marched up and down, but I saw no effect from our fire. Just to the right of the position occupied by this officer one regiment was slowly and steadily advancing up the ridge, directly in front of Anderson's brigade.

Major Pocher, of the 10th S. C., came up to our part of the line and remarked, "The enemy do not appear to be advancing on this part of the line." I called his attention to the regiment on our left, now half way up the ridge, and he directed us to fire on them. Just then, Captain Hazard came up and asked Major Pocher where he could send a detail for ammunition. The Major turned to answer when a dull, heavy thud, and an exclamation of "oh!" attracted our attention and the gallant South

Carolinian fell full length on his face. All this time the Federal regiment continued to advance in front of Anderson's brigade. The battery in our rear could now bring upon them an enfilading fire, and with every discharge some one would fall, but still the others would cluster around their colors.

By some management, or engineering, Anderson's brigade had their works so far behind the crest of the ridge that they could not see an enemy approaching in their front, until within twenty or thirty feet of the line. Knowing the material of which that brigade was composed, I remarked to some one near me, "Whenever that Yankee regiment reaches the crest of the ridge, they will be swept out of existence in the flash of a gun. However, one of those incomprehensible things happened which frequently turned the tide of success in our civil war. When this regiment reached the crest of the ridge, there did not appear to be more than fifty or sixty huddled around their flag. The gallant band hurled themselves with a yell upon the lines of Anderson's old brigade of Mississippi veterans. Not a shot was fired but with one impulse they swept them out of their works, and the little band of Federals took possession of the battery, waved their flag over it, and trained the guns so as to rake our lines. Their comrades swarmed up the ridge to their support, and the Confederate line gave way to the right and left, and the battle was won for the Union through the gallantry of that single regiment.

SHARPSHOOTER "KILDEE.”

JOHN WEST (alias KILDEE).

Thrilling Reminiscences of the Confederacy's Best Rifleman.

THE MAN WHO SHOT GENERALS BANKS AND SHIELDS AND SCORES OF OTHER OFFICERS AND PRIVATES.

(RELATED BY HIMSELF.)

WAS born and reared in Twiggs county, Ga., but went to the war from Louisiana as a private. At my solicitation I was transferred to the Twiggs County Volunteers, my home company, which I found in Virginia. The Twiggs Volunteers were nicknamed the "Jorees," because of their uniforms having three black stripes upon the tail of the coat, resembling the three black feathers on the bird called "Joree.' I was nicknamed "Kildee," because of my slenderness and agility, and because I was in the "Joree" company. In '62 General Lee received thirteen fine English Whitworth rifles that were warranted to kill at 1,800 yards. These were the best guns in the service on either side. Thirteen of the best marksmen in the army were detailed for this special service, and I was the only Georgian that was selected. We were placed under the command of a General Brown, who had no other duty than to command us. We were practiced three months before going into service. A score of every shot was kept during these three months, and at the end I was 176 shots. in the bull's eye ahead of the rest. The last day of the practice our marksmanship was tested by our superior officers. A white board, two feet square with black diamond about the size of a hat in the center, was placed 1,500 yards away. The wind was blowing stiffly and it was very unfavorable for good shooting, but I put three bullets in the diamond and seven in the white of the board. I beat the record and won the choice of horse,