n its way in the cars, and is
expected to reach the battle-field before the contest closes. General
Johnston has between fifty and sixty pieces of artillery and about one
thousand cavalry.

General McDowell had also about thirty thousand men and forty-nine
pieces of artillery. His army was in four divisions,--General Tyler's,
General Hunter's, General Heintzelman's, and General Miles's. One
brigade of General Tyler's and General Miles's division was left at
Centreville to make a feint of attacking the enemy at Blackburn's and
Mitchell's Fords, and to protect the rear of the army from an attack by
Generals Ewell and Jones. The other divisions of the army--five
brigades, numbering eighteen thousand men, with thirty-six
cannon--marched soon after midnight, to be ready to make the attack by
sunrise on Sunday morning.

General Tyler, with General Keyes's brigade, General Sherman's, and
General Schenck's, marched down the turnpike towards the Stone Bridge,
where General Evans was on the watch. General Tyler had twelve pieces of
artillery,--two batteries, commanded by Ayer and Carlisle.

It is sunrise as they approach the bridge,--a calm, peaceful Sabbath
morning. The troops leave the turnpike, march into a cornfield, and
ascend a hill overlooking the bridge. As you stand there amid the
tasselled stalks, you see the stream rippling beneath the stone arches,
and upon the other bank breastworks of earth and fallen trees. Half hid
beneath the oaks and pines are the Rebel regiments, their gun-barrels
and bayonets flashing in the morning light. Beyond the breastworks upon
the knolls are the farm-houses of Mr. Lewis and Mrs. Henry.

Captain Ayer, who has seen fighting in Mexico, brings his guns upon the
hill, wheels them into position, and sights them towards the
breastworks. There is a flash, a puff of smoke, a screaming in the air,
and then across the stream a handful of cloud bursts into view above the
Rebel lines. The shell has exploded. There is a sudden movement of the
Rebel troops. It is the first gun of the morning. And now, two miles
down the Run, by Mitchell's Ford, rolling, echoing, and reverberating
through the forests, are other thunderings. General Richardson has been
waiting impatiently to hear the signal gun. He is to make a feint of
attacking. His cannonade is to begin furiously. He has six guns, and all
of them are in position, throwing solid shot and shells into the wood
where Longstreet's men are lying.

Al