leading brigade, under Gen. Burnside, encountered a vigorous fire of artillery and infantry, from an almost invisible foe. Almost at the same moment, the battle commenced in earnest along the whole line, from eight to ten miles in length, and from one to two in breadth. Volumes might be filled with its details; with the movements of its minor divisions, with its acts of heroism, with the surgings to and fro, the charges, the surprises, the retreats before overpowering numbers, the rush of reënforcements and the renewed onslaught. Such a battle-field is inexplicably complex in its movements, yet from all its complexity there is eventually evolved victory or defeat; results often depending upon apparent accidents or chances, which no human foresight could have anticipated.

Let us, for a moment, leave the assailing column under Heintzelman and Hunter, upon whose movements the issues of the day were to depend, and pass down the chasm to the Stone Bridge, where Gen. Tyler, with a 32-pound rifle Parrot gun, and Ayres's and Carlisle's batteries was making the very hills tremble with his tremendous charges, throwing his shot and shell into ravines and wooded eminences two miles distant, striving to drive the rebels from their lurking places into daylight. For half an hour he could awaken no response, and knew not where to look for the treacherous foe. At last, a scout on the right, captured a slave, who was venturing, with great fear, into our lines. Trembling with fear that our troops might deliver him back again to his master, yet anxious to commu nicate the infinitely important information in his possession he was led to headquarters. Poor fellow! well he might tremble, for, if the next day his master were to come and claim him as a fugitive, many of our generals would deliver him up, to be flayed alive by rebel vengeance, for giving us that knowledge which had saved, perhaps, hundreds of our friends from mutilation and death.

This intelligent and loyal Virginian, with probably far more American than African blood in his veins, informed Gen. Tyler that the rebels were concealed in the woods on the right, and that on a distant hill, which he pointed out, they had a battery, upon which he had been compelled to work three days, and which commanded the road our troops were about to traverse. Generals Tyler and Schenck soon saw the assailing column of Union troops, which had crossed at Sudley Ford, far above them, driving the foe down towards the point where they were stationed. They immediately put their troops in motion, crossing the Run half a mile above Stone bridge, and cautiously entering the impenetrable thickets which surrounded them, suddenly they heard a voice exclaim, "Now, you Yankee devils, we have got you where we want to!" Immediately, a battery at point-blank range opened upon them a deadly volley. Still, the line wavered not; but pressed heroically on, driving the rebels before them, and carrying efficient aid to Burnside's division, at that time sorely pressed.

Leaving them to fight hour after hour, with heroism never before equaled by raw troops, and rarely surpassed by regulars, let us pass down the river two and four miles farther, and we find the same continuous roar of battle. A portion of Miles' division, which had been detached to aid

Richardson in holding Blackburn's Ford, was here, by a vigorous attack of artillery and musketry, endeavoring to occupy the attention of the foe. These lower divisions did not attempt any advance. They mainly employed themselves in shelling the enemy, and assailing them with musketry whenever within their reach. Such was the general aspect of this extended field of battle at cleven o'clock in the morning. Let us now ascend the river, to the extreme right of the army, where Heintzelman and Hunter crossed at Sudley Ford, and where the real battle was to be fought. Gen. McDowell took his position a little in the rear of the Stone Bridge, where he could most easily be in communication with all parts of the field.

For a time, every movement was very prosperous. Height after height the rebels abandoned, unable to face the merciless storm of cannon balls and the impetuous charges of the patriots. The rebels were driven from all their batteries and fastnesses, two miles down the stream, and across the great Warrenton road, which passed the Run at Stone Bridge. Heintzelman's division had effected a junction with Tyler's, so that now they were, flushed with success, driving the foe over the hills south of this road. The enemy fought persistently, contesting every inch. For months they had been at work, aided by any number of slaves, in fortifying their positions. The Union troops marched boldly to these intrenchments, compelling the rebels to retreat over a space nearly three miles in length.

The charges of the 69th New York, Irish regiment, 1,600 strong, under Col. Corcoran,* are said to have been terrific. The gallant Colonel, placing himself at their head, shouted, "Come on, boys! You have got your chance at last!" With cheers and at double quick, they dashed forward, throwing away knapsacks and coats, and every thing which could retard the impetuosity of their onset, but grasping their guns with a tenacity which even death's agonies could hardly relax.

A very brilliant effort was made by Gen. Tyler's division to carry one of the batteries by a charge. By order of the General, a Maine regiment advanced to within one hundred yards of one of the batteries, belching an incessant storm of canister and grape. The firing now became so severe that, though the assailants threw themselves upon the ground, Keyes, in command, declares that they would have been annihilated in five minutes. They fell back under the brow of the hill, and made a flank movement, with the intention of turning the battery. They were just upon the point of attaining their object, when the order for retreat came. As this battery was deemed the enemy's commanding position, it is not improbable that, had the order been delayed fifteen minutes, we should have had a victory to rejoice over, instead of a defeat to deplore.

* Michael Corcoran was born in Sligo county, Ireland, Sept. 21, 1827. He descended from a highly honorable family. Having received a very thorough English education, at nineteen years of age he entered the constabulary force, and remained in it three years. In 1849, he emigrated to America, and became proprietor of Hibernian Hall, in New York. In this business he continued until the year 1861. He commenced his military career as private in Company I, of the 69th Regiment, New York State Militia. Rising through the grades of first lieutenant and captain, on the 25th of August, 1859, he was chosen colonel. On the breaking out of the rebellion, his regiment was one of the first to reach Washington. At the battle of Bull Run, this regiment greatly distinguished itself, but Col. Corcoran was taken prisoner. He remained in cruel captivity until August, 1862, when he was exchanged, and drew his sword again in defense of American nationality.

It was now noon, the blazing noon of a July day. The storm of battle was raging in its most extended and utmost fury, and all the energies of the combatants were roused to the highest pitch. Missiles of destruction were falling every where, over a space covering probably twenty square miles. Shells from the rebel batteries even penetrated the streets of Centreville, and shot from our heavy Parrott guns must have plunged into the intrenchments at Manassas. The roar of the cannonade was so deafening, that it entirely drowned the rattle of musketry, and its unintermitted thunder peal was heard even in Alexandria and Washington.

Our troops had been up all night, had undergone a long march, were faint and exhausted. But as they pressed on, driving the foe before them, new batteries, manned by fresh troops, were continually opening. From Manassas, recruits were unintermittedly sent up, to strengthen the wavering lines of the foe. The 69th New York took and lost a commanding position, it is said, eight times in succession. At length, utterly exhausted, and driven back by overpowering numbers, they threw themselves, panting and fainting, upon the ground, when the 3d Connecticut came rushing through the smoke of the conflict, swept up the hill like a whirlwind, unfurled the "Stars and Stripes" over the captured guns, and gave three cheers, which blended exultingly with the roar of the battle. It was remarkable, that as our troops advanced, the vanquished masses of the enemy were continually increasing in number, not merely from being driven in upon themselves, but from reënforcements from Manassas.

Never was a battle fought more bravely. Every regiment merited its country's pride and gratitude. Burnside there developed that heroism which has given his name national renown. And the gallant young Governor and chieftain, Sprague, of Rhode Island, carved a device upon his escutcheon, which will prove him to be one of Nature's noblemen through all coming time. The writer is not unfamiliar with the wars of Europe, with the campaigns of Napoleon and Wellington, and Marlborough, and Prince Eugene, and Julius Cæsar, and he hazards nothing in the assertion, an assertion which few competent military men will deny, that the battle at Bull Run was sagaciously planned and magnificently fought. The disaster which ensued was one of those calamities to which all armies are exposed. It was simply another Waterloo.

Three o'clock in the afternoon came, and the victory was apparently ours. Notwithstanding all the advantages which the enemy enjoyed in position and superior numbers, the Union troops had driven them, in a clean sweep, about two miles, had gained complete possession of the Warrenton road, from the Stone bridge westward, and had removed the obstructions, to enable Schenck's brigade, and Ayres's and Carlisle's battery, to join them. Wilcox's and Howard's 'brigades were on the right, fighting like veterans, supported by the brigades of Porter and Franklin, with the cavalry under Palmer. Sherman's brigade was in the centre, upon the road. Keyes' brigade, of Tyler's division, was fiercely assailing the batteries on the left, near Stone Bridge. The batteries of Ricket and Griffin were on a hill side, the target for a tempest of shot from the batteries of the foe.

Up to this time, all the men appeared cool and fearless in the midst of the storm of lead and iron which fell around them. Col. Cameron had been borne from the field in an ambulance, mortally wounded. The rear of the field seemed filled with those who were being carried on litters, or were hobbling along to the hospitals. Gen. McDowell and all his generals were in the midst of the fight, sharing the perils of the young and inexperienced troops, who needed the encouragement which the utter disregard of shot and shell by their officers presented. Our troops were quite exhausted. They had been fighting, without a moment's intermission, from half-past ten in the morning, under a blazing sun, and choked with the dust and the smoke of the battle. They had been up most of the night, and had encountered a fatiguing march, To relieve themselves from encumbrance in the arduousness of the conflict, they had laid aside their knapsacks, and consequently could not refresh themselves even with a hurried lunch.

Still, at this moment, the victory seemed to be decisively with the Union troops. "When I entered the field at two o'clock," says a corre spondent of the Charleston (S. C.) Mercury, one of the most decided of the rebel journals," the fortunes of the day were dark. The remnants of the. regiments, so badly injured or wounded and worn, as they staggered out, gave gloomy pictures of the scene, and as, up to this time, after four hours! of almost unprecedented valor and exertion, no point had been gained, the' event was doubtful-hope seemed almost gone.'

As on the battle-field of Waterloo, Wellington was looking anxiously for the coming of Blucher with a reënforcement of 65,000 Prussians, and Napoleon was watching for the arrival of Marshal Grouchy, who had been detached to pursue Blucher and absorb his energies; so, in this great and hard-fought battle at Bull Run, the rebels were looking hourly for Gen. Johnston's army of the Shenandoah, and the patriots were looking with equal eagerness, for the arrival of Patterson who, with 30,000 men, about forty miles distant, had been entrusted with the duty of assailing Johnston, and preventing his junction with the rebel troops. Johnston was the Blucher, and Patterson the Grouchy of this our miniature Waterloo.

Gen. J. E. Johnston, who had assumed command of the rebel army, immediately upon his arrival, in his official report makes the following statement:

"About 2 o'clock an officer of Gen. Beauregard's Adjutant-General's Office, galloped from Manassas to report to me that a United States army had reached the line of Manassas Gap railroad, was marching towards us, and then but three or four miles on our left flank."

As at Waterloo it was Blucher, not Grouchy, who came, so here it turned out that it was a division of Johnston's and not Patterson's army who were coming down upon the field. The rebel reënforcements pressed down with great impetuosity upon our wearied troops. Still the Unionists for a short time resisted these overpowering numbers with great valor, until overpowered, and threatened with assault upon both flanks, it was found necessary to retreat. A portion of Johnston's army had reached the field on Friday. The division which at this time arrived was that of