that among the horrible, bloody, hard-fought battles of the war none could exceed that of Chickamauga, and afterwards Franklin.  From the lips of my boys, however, I often gained knowledge of deeds of magnificent bravery which cannot be surpassed by any which adorn the pages of history.  These jewels have lain undiscovered among the debris of the war.  Would I could reclaim them all.  Seen in the aggregate, they would even outshine the glory already known and visible.  Finding memory a treacherous guide while searching for these hidden treasures, I have called upon my comrades to aid me in clearing away the dust and cobwebs,—­the accumulation of years,—­but only in a few instances have they responded.  I shall here relate one incident of the battle of Chickamauga never before published, but which is true in every particular.

Austin’s Battalion of Sharpshooters, composed of two companies, the Continental Guards and Cannon Guards, both from New Orleans, was as well known to the Army of Tennessee as any organization in it, and commanded the respect and admiration of all the army.  The following lines from the pen of a gallant soldier in Fenner’s Louisiana Battery truly portray the sentiments of their army comrades towards the famous battalion: 

“In the Army of Tennessee, Austin’s Battalion always occupied the post of honor in the brigade (Adams’s and Gibson’s Louisiana) to which it belonged.  In the advance, that battalion was in the front; in the retreat, it hung upon the rear, a safeguard to the Confederates, and a cloud threatening at every step to burst in destructive fury upon the advancing enemy.

“Who is on the front?” “Austin’s Battalion.”  “Then, boys, we can lie down and sleep.”  Such were the words heard a hundred times among the troops of the Army of Tennessee, to which was attached Austin’s Battalion of Sharpshooters.  Whose tongue could so graphically picture to the mind’s eye a soldier and a hero as do these brief questions and answers interchanged between battle-scarred veterans in the gathering gloom of the night, when they knew not, until they were assured Austin’s Battalion was in the front, if they could snatch a few hours of repose from the toil and danger of battle?  Austin’s Battalion, famous throughout the armies of the Confederacy for its discipline and fighting qualities, was formed out of the remnants of the Eleventh Louisiana Regiment, which distinguished itself at Belmont, and which was literally shot to pieces at Shiloh.  The battalion is well known to all the survivors of the Army of Tennessee as a fighting organization.  During the active campaign of the army, it was almost continually under fire, and Ned Austin, on his little black pony, was always in the advance, “fooling the enemy, or in the retreat fighting and holding him in check.”