oops, all thrown together in splendid confusion. Drivers cursing,
cannon rattling, soldiers singing and shouting, horses racing, and all
that sublime confusion which can never be seen except in a hasty but
well directed retreat of a vast army.

We passed Warrenton Junction and Bealton Station, and at eight o'clock
halted near Kettle Run, having marched more than thirty miles within
twenty-four hours.

We had not long to rest, for at daylight, October 14th, we were again on
the road, making quick time. We passed our old camp at Bristoe, and the
familiar scenes at Manassas Junction, and crossed Bull Run at Blackman's
Ford. We reached Centreville at three P.M. The booming of cannon in the
rear, the huge clouds of smoke, and the heavy rattle of musketry, told
us there was hot work on the ground we had lately passed over; and as we
formed in line of battle in front of Centreville, the soldiers said,
"Here is the third Bull Run, but this time the run will be on the other
side."

To the Second corps had been assigned the duty of guarding the rear of
the army. About twelve o'clock, as the rear of that corps was crossing
Broad Run, a wide and muddy stream at Bristoe Station, the rebel corps
of A. P. Hill suddenly appeared from the cover of the woods in the
vicinity, and, running out a battery, opened a severe fire of artillery
and musketry upon the column, which was in a degree of confusion, owing
to the difficult crossing of the stream.

In a moment order was restored, and the troops so placed as to defy the
advance of the enemy.

The rebels, finding that their attack upon the advance was fruitless,
now turned their attention to the rear division, which was advancing
toward the run. Opening upon the column a fierce cannonade and a storm
of bullets, they hoped to throw the division into confusion, but again
they were disappointed. After a severe fight, the rebels were forced to
flee across the run in great disorder, leaving in the hands of the
Second corps five pieces of artillery, two stands of colors, and four
hundred and fifty prisoners. Such was the battle of Bristoe Station.

At dark that evening the Sixth corps moved to Chantilly, where we rested
for the night. Next morning we took a new and stronger position, where
we waited, listening to the roar of cannon where the cavalry was
contending with the advance of the enemy, and wondering how soon our own
turn would come. Suddenly, at three o'clock, the doubts seemed to