bridle, saddle, spurs, gun, revolvers, and saber. Our accouterments were the best the army could afford. Then we entered active service, and I have been through scenes which have tried men's souls. I soon became indifferent to danger and inured to hardships and privations. I have killed men from ten paces distance to a mile. I have no idea how many I killed, but I made a good many bite the dust. We were sometimes employed separately and collectively; sometimes scouting, then sharpshooting. Our most effective work was in picking off the officers, silencing batteries, and protecting our lines from the enemy's sharpshooters. I am certain I killed General Banks and Shields. I was the only Confederate sharpshooter on our lines on the day those generals were killed. The enemy were fourteen or fifteen hundred yards away, and my rifle was the only gun that could reach them. I was shooting at officers, and I know that I killed them.

Artillerymen could stand anything else better than they could sharpshooting, and they would turn their guns upon a sharpshooter as quick as they would upon a battery. You see we could pick off their gunners so easily. Myself and a comrade completely silenced a battery of six guns in less than two hours on one occasion. The battery was then stormed and captured. I heard General Lee say he would rather have those thirteen sharpshooters than any regiment in the army. We frequently resorted to various artifices in our warfare. Sometimes we would climb a tree and pin leaves all over our clothes to keep their color from betraying us. When two of us would be together and a Yankee sharpshooter would be trying to get a shot at us, one of us would put his hat on a ramrod and poke it up from behind the object that concealed and protected us, and when the Yankee showed his head to shoot at the hat the other one would put a bullet through his head. I have shot 'em out of trees and seen 'em fall like coons. When we were in grass or grain we would fire and fall over and roll several yards from the spot whence we fired, and the Yankee sharpshooter would fire away at the smoke.

I was captured once. Colonel Brown and I got caught inside of the Federal lines at Cold Harbor, and Sheridan's wagon train was between us and liberty. We had on Yankee coats, and we rode along up the wagon train for some time trying to head it and escape. But we couldn't do it. Finally, Finally, Colonel

Brown rode up to a driver and ordered him to turn out to one side and let us pass.

"By whose authority?" asked the driver.

"By my own," replied Brown authoritatively.

"Who are you?" asked the driver.

"Colonel Coleman," answered Brown, who had found out the name of the colonel who was in command of the train.

The driver then began to question Colonel Brown pretty closely and was about to catch up with us. Colonel Brown drew his revolver and sent a ball crashing through his brain. We turned our horses and dashed down the lines of wagons at full speed, and we ran right into a company of Federal cavalry who were protecting the train. A shower of bullets whistled about us. We wheeled to the right, jumped a stone wall, and just as my horse cleared the wall a bullet struck him behind the ear and down we came. Brown's horse was shot from under him about twenty steps ahead, and we were both captured. As I scrambled out from under my horse, I threw my gun to one side in the grass. Three weeks after that I went back and got it. We were in a tight place. Having on Yankee coats, we would certainly be shot for spies. Night came on and we were guarded by four sentinels, who paced back and forward in a square several yards in extent. It was very dark. During the second watch I whispered to Brown that I was going to leave. He asked me how it could be done. I told him I'd rather risk four bullets in the dark than twenty in daylight at Fort Delaware. He said he would follow me. We then began crawling like snakes out of the square. Four times a sentinel passed right by us. We kept gliding along until we were entirely out. We straightened up when about fifty yards from the sentinels and struck out for the mountains. We came near perishing for want of food before we could get back into the Confederate lines.

I was within ten steps of General Doles when he was killed. A Federal sharpshooter had been picking off our men all day, and I had been trying for hours to locate him, but had failed to do so. I was in advance of our line a hundred yards and was concealed behind a rock. Several times he had shot at me. About 1,400 yards in front of us was a strip of woods. I knew the sharpshooter was in them somewhere, but the tree-tops prevented my seeing the smoke of his gun. He hadn't shot at me

in two hours, but confined his fire to the line in the rear.

General Doles advanced to where I was and asked me if I couldn't silence that fellow, as he was doing terrible execution in his lines. I told him I had been trying to do it all day, but had failed. He asked me to do my best. He then stepped in front of me, and faced the woods, exposing his entire person. I told him he had better look out, as that fellow has shaved me very close several times, and it was dangerous to expose himself. I had scarcely spoken the words when a ball struck him in the right side, passing through his body and coming out under his left arm. General Doles turned half around and fell forward, and never spoke, being killed instantly. I carried him off the field, and was detailed to carry his remains home. General Doles was a fine officer.

I was shot through the body once. While I was in the hospital, Charley Grace, of La Grange, Ga., used my gun, and it is said he killed General Sedgwick, but others doubt it. Four of the guns were captured during the war. I lost mine at the surrender, while I was trying to conceal it in my blanket, to carry home with me. I think I shall be able to get it yet, as General Phill. Cook, Joe Brown, and others are trying to obtain it for me from the government. It was private property, and I was entitled to it. The 4th Ga. Regt. regard it as a valuable relic.

G. A. R.

THE honor of first suggesting the order of the Grand Army of the Republic belongs to Dr. B. F. Stephenson, of Springfield, Ill., who had formerly served in the army. This occurred in 1866.

Breech Loading Rifles.
THE first command to fire at an

enemy with breech loading rifles
was Berdan's Sharpshooters.
It was
this corps that first demonstrated the
importance of this arm in actual serv-
ice.

By DANIEL R. HUNDLEY, Colonel of the 31st Alabama.

'HE capture of Lookout Mountain was a brilliant achievement on the part of the Federals; but their success was due more to the want of sagacity of the Confederates than to any other cause. Lookout Mountain, properly defended, could have resisted 100,000 assailants.

The mountain towers seven hundred feet above the plain on which is built the thriving city of Chattanooga. Point Lookout is the highest part of the mountain. It is a bluff of solid rock descending abruptly for a hundred feet or more to a green declivity. This terminates in a comparatively level plateau about

half way up the mountain, some hundred or two yards in width and extending back to where the road from Chattanooga to Point Lookout first begins the ascent of the bluff above mentioned. From this plateau on the western side of the mountain there is a gradual descent to Lookout creek, a small stream flowing at the mountain's base.

After my brigade had been relieved it was replaced by Walthall's brigade. This is the brigade surprised by Hooker, and

which met with such a crushing defeat. At that time we had on top of the mountain a whole division of infantry and a section of artillery, if no more. This division was Stevenson's, and I belonged to Pettus's brigade, which was a part of it.

The attack on Lookout Mountain was a complete surprise to General Bragg and his troops. The heavy fog enabled the Federals to make the surprise a complete success. There were men enough on the mountain to have held it against double the number under Hooker's command. Soon after receiving my instructions as officer of the day, I made a visit to the line of pickets extending along the whole brow of the mountain. It was more than foggy; the atmosphere was thick, almost to darkness.

As I neared the farthest outpost along the brow of the mountain, facing towards the west, there was a sudden rift in this vapory cloud, and I was startled to see the Federal army, column after column, pouring across the little stream which flowed at the mountain's base. It was for only a moment, for the rift in the cloud speedily closed. What I had seen filled me with consternation and alarm. Turning my horse I hastened to General Stevenson's headquarters. I made all possible speed, but before I could reach my destination the "volleyed thunder" told me that I was too late.

General Stevenson seemed to be dumfounded. He gave me Colonel Bibb's regiment as a reserve, and told me to hold the top of the mountain at "all hazards." He sent the rest of the division to Walthall's assistance, for he, with a remnant of his brigade, had safely retreated along the plateau before mentioned, until he reached the summer houses overlooking the Chattanooga valley, where he made a gallant stand. Here our division found him and here the battle raged during the rest of the day.

Below us the battle continued to rage with unabated fury, neither side advancing nor retreating. It filled one with emotions of awe as he stood on the brink of that fearful precipice and peered down into that miniature picture of hell.

Just after dark the combat below began gradually to die away. Reporting to headquarters, I was notified that General Bragg had ordered the mountain to be evacuated forthwith. I was instructed to go around to all the pickets in person and to notify them of this order. Fortunately, the fog had lifted, else