The train of seven cars, backed out by a locomotive, left Alexandria about noon, and proceeded on its way, dropping detachments all along the road, and meeting with no interruptions until entering a straight line near Vienna. Then a man stepped out upon the road and waved his hand, beckoning the train to stop, and warned them “for God’s sake not to go on,” as they were dead men if they proceeded; that there was a battery and strong force of the enemy ahead. The officer in front of the Federal troops paused a moment with his hand on his forehead, as if turning the matter over in his mind, and then beckoned to the engineer to go on. They proceeded a short distance, when a battery on the high ground, to the right of the road leading to Vienna, opened fire upon the train, and poured well-aimed and rapid discharges into the compact body of Federal soldiery. Some four hundred passengers, troops and laborers, were on the train, and many of them were necessarily on the platforms and the tender. The fire of the enemy, which seemed to be more especially directed in the start to disabling the engine, was particularly destructive amongst the men huddled upon the tender. A number were killed and wounded here upon the first discharge. A destructive fire was also poured upon the troops as they leaped from the cars. The engine was struck by a six-pound shot upon a wheel-box, and next upon the cylinder of the engine, which it fractured. The engineer, finding that his engine was in danger, detached it (with one car) from the train, and started back to Alexandria. Fearful, indeed, was the effect of this deadly storm of fire and iron hail upon the soldiers, helplessly confined, closely packed in the cars. The slaughter intended for them was a species of murder, for, like sheep in the shambles, they were completely in the power of their enemies. Vain was the strong arm, vain was courage and heroism then. Vain the good cause and the longing for victory, or, at least, a soldier’s death. Confined within narrow limits, and crowded upon each other, the deadly shot was poured in upon them. It was an hour in which the stoutest heart might have trembled, and yet the men of the North met the iron death manfully. Taken completely by surprise, suffering under every disadvantage, they yet made a good stand. With desperate courage they leaped from the riddled cars and coolly formed into line. Finding the enemy’s batteries strongly posted and supported by cavalry and infantry, they could not hope to carry them until reinforced, and withdrew to the cover of a neighboring wood, carrying with them, however, their dead and wounded. The enemy’s force, estimated at 1,000 to 1,200 strong, had evidently moved down from Fairfax Court-House the preceding night.