e-quicked four miles to
Mitchell's Ford and a pine wood, where, hungry, thirsty, dirty, and
exhausted, the ranks were broken.

This was the night of the nineteenth. At Piedmont the brigade had heard
of yesterday's minor affair at this ford between Tyler's division and
Longstreet, the honours of the engagement resting with the Confederate.
In the pine wood there was a line of fresh graves; on the brown needles
lay boughs that shell had cut from the trees; there were certain stains
upon the ground. The First Brigade ate and slept--the last somewhat
feverishly. The night passed without alarm. An attack in force was
expected in the morning, but it did not come. McDowell, amazingly
enough, still rested confident that Patterson had detained Johnston in
the valley. Possessed by this belief he was now engaged in a
"reconnoissance by stealth," his object being to discover a road whereby
to cross Bull Run above the Stone Bridge and turn Beauregard's left.
This proceeding and an afternoon rest in camp occupied him the whole of
the twentieth. On this day Johnston himself reached Manassas, bringing
with him Bee's 2d Mississippi and 4th Alabama, and Bartow's 7th and 8th
Georgia. Stuart, having successfully amused Patterson, was also on hand.
The remainder of the Army of the Shenandoah, detained by the break upon
the Manassas Gap, was yet missing, and many an anxious glance the
generals cast that way.

The First Brigade, undiscovered by the "reconnoissance by stealth,"
rested all day Saturday beneath the pines at Mitchell's Ford, and at
night slept quietly, no longer minding the row of graves. At dawn of
Sunday a cannon woke the men, loud and startling, McDowell's signal gun,
fired from Centreville, and announcing to the Federal host that the
interrupted march, the "On to Richmond" blazoned on banners and chalked
on trunks, would now be resumed, willy nilly the "rebel horde" on the
southern bank of Bull Run.

CHAPTER VII

THE DOGS OF WAR

In the east was a great flare of pink with small golden clouds floating
across, all seen uncertainly between branches of pine. A mist lay above
Bull Run--on the high, opposite bank the woods rose huddled, indistinct,
and dream-like. The air was still, cool, and pure, a Sunday morning
waiting for church bells. There were no bells; the silence was
shattered by all the drums of the brigade beating the long roll. Men
rose from the pine needles, shook themselves, caught up musket and
ammuni